Ever played a game where simply thinking about winning was enough to ensure you lost? I had that experience Thursday night at a preview event for Wired NextFest in Chicago's Millennium Park. My wife Kerry and I threw down in a spirited match of Brainball (after throwing down a couple of martinis, natch).

The gameboard—and premise—of Brainball is simple. The playing field sits on an orange table about the size of a typical card table. There's a long, narrow strip of plastic running almost the length of the table with a small circular goal at either end. To play, you strap on a headband with three metal contacts and try to move the ball from the center of the table to your opponent's goal.

Paradoxically, the key to winning a game of Brainball is trying not win. You control the ball by relaxing as much as possible; the contacts in your headband monitor your alpha and theta brainwaves. The lower the activity, the more the ball will move.



Doing battle with my better half. You can see bits of our brain activity on screen at the top

In practice, it's a bit unnerving. My wife Kerry and I decided to square off, and we have quite different personalities. She's someone who has a hard time relaxing, always feeling the need to get stuff done instead of sitting back and chilling out. Me? I'm almost the exact opposite, so we both thought it would make for an interesting match.



Trying to pacify the ball with cool thoughts

After sitting down, donning the headband, and pressing the button to clear the game, I immediately tried to relax. One of Negro League pitching great Satchel Paige's rules for staying young was, "if your stomach disputes you, lie down and pacify it with cool thoughts," so I tried to pacify the ball in a similar manner. (My favorite of Paige's rules: "Keep the juices flowing by jangling around gently as you move.") I also closed my eyes halfway in an attempt to avoid being distracted by its movement (or lack thereof).

As I struggled to calm myself and slow my breathing, I noticed the ball lurching forward very slowly as Kerry attempted to fight genetics and relax. Eventually, the ball traveled all the way down the table and landed in her goal. We placed it in the middle of the table and hit the button once more. This time, the ball didn't start to move my way. Kerry had relaxed enough to force the ball in my direction, and that discovery was not at all relaxing.

I tried to fall into a zen-like state and send the ball back in her direction, and briefly succeeded. But my triumph was short-lived, as the ball kept slowly rolling toward me. After failing to stop its advance by imagining sunlit meadows and ocean vistas, I decided to take the opposite approach. I tensed up my muscles while ratcheting up the mental intensity. At that moment, it was as though the horns blew a seventh time and the walls of Jericho came tumbling down—the ball sped the remaining few inches down the table into my goal. In the interest of maintaining marital harmony, we called it a draw at one match apiece and vacated the table so Clint Ecker and Jacqui Cheng could do battle.

I've read enough sci-fi and fantasy in my day to know telekinesis when I see it, and that's what playing Brainball felt like. It was fascinating being able to move a physical object with my brain—even if I had to try my hardest not to move it in order to do so. Brainball offers just a small glimpse of the work being done on brain-computer interfaces, and there are hopefully much more significant advances around the corner. But given a choice of Brainball and Wii Sports, I think I'd choose the latter every time.

If you're going to be in Chicago, Wired NextFest runs from September 27 through October 12. Admission is free.