How Brändi Dog is made
14.1.2020
Translation: machine translated
Pictures: Thomas Kunz
Dog is one of the most popular games in Switzerland. The Brändi Foundation has been producing it for over 15 years. I was allowed to visit their production facility in central Switzerland and try my hand at it myself.
Dog is Switzerland's cult board game par excellence. I remember playing it as a little boy with my family in the living room, competing for victory. We split into two teams of two. The loser then had to take over an "Ämtli" from the winner. Only winning counted for me, so my sister had to do the washing up for me or tidy my room.
Although there are several manufacturers of the games, the best-known of them is the Brändi foundation from central Switzerland. It has been committed to the professional, cultural and social inclusion of people with disabilities for over 50 years.
I've always wanted to know how the board game is made. Today is the day, I'm heading for Sursee. In addition to pen and paper for my notes, I also have our photographer Thomas Kunz with me. Once I arrive in the small town on Lake Sempach, a short walk along the railway tracks takes me to the Brändi Foundation. It shares the inconspicuous industrial building with the Swiss Lifeguard Organisation and the Lucerne Farmers' Association. I meet Michaela Wyss on site. She is head of product sales at the Brändi Foundation and is giving me a tour of the production facility today.
Almost everything is done by hand
After a brief welcome, it's straight down to business. After all, I haven't come as a silent observer, I want to make a game myself. My first job is to sort the marbles and pack them into the appropriate bags. A customised work aid is available for this purpose, which makes the work step as simple as possible. As people with mental, physical or intellectual disabilities work at the Brändi Foundation, the work processes have to be adapted to their needs and requirements.
When sorting, I have to pick out the same number of marbles of each colour. There's an ingenious system so that I don't accidentally miscount. There are several rows on a piece of wood, each with four recesses the size of the marbles. I fill each of these rows with one colour. I then pull the piece of wood towards me by a handle and all the marbles fall into the bag underneath. Voilà!
I notice how many of these small steps are carried out by hand. There are deliberately hardly any machines that work automatically, as the employees of the Brändi Foundation are dependent on such work.
So with my next post. I get to drill the recesses in the pitch. There is a row of drills next to a row of windows. Each one is set up so that it can't be operated incorrectly. I take an already printed wooden board from a box, push it into the right position on the worktable and pull the machine lever as far as it will go. I then turn the board 90 degrees and repeat this step a total of four times. The board then moves to the next drilling machine, where the next set of holes is drilled.
After all the recesses have been drilled, an external company takes over the boards. They cut the boards into four equally sized "puzzle pieces" and deliver them back to the Brändi Foundation. As the colours and wood fibres of the individual pieces need to be uniform on sale, they have to be made from the same piece of wood. I have to be careful not to mix up the order of the parts in the next step.
I am watched closely over my shoulder
To ensure that no one injures themselves on a sharp edge, the employees at the Brändi Foundation have to round off the edges of the individual parts. A special machine is also available for this. The man currently operating the machine is reluctant to make room for me. Only after asking several times does he let me get to work. He explains to me exactly how I have to proceed. The corners are particularly tricky. "Not everyone is able to do this," he tells me emphatically. He watches my every move with a stern gaze and exhales loudly every time I don't follow his instructions to the letter. I have to admit that my first attempts don't look perfect. After a few runs, however, I get the hang of it. Nevertheless, the gentleman can't watch me any longer and chases me away from his seat again. "No master has ever fallen from the sky," he tells me as a parting shot.
Quality control is written in capital letters
Although the individual production steps are already checked, an error can creep in here and there. Every game is therefore subjected to quality control. Are all holes present? Do the elements fit together? Is a marble missing? Only when everything is in order can the individual parts be sent on to packaging.
Before the contents go into the box, it first has to be folded. I am amazed at the speed at which the employees work. I can't keep up with them. On the contrary. I'm quite clumsy and can't manage a neat fold. So before I produce any more waste, I prefer to leave the work to the skilled hands again.
Finally, the game board, marbles, playing cards and instructions are placed in the box, sealed and stored. The cult game is finished. Now Brändi Dog just needs to find its way into your living room so you can play marbles with the whole family. <p
Riding my motorbike makes me feel free, fishing brings out my inner hunter, using my camera gets me creative. I make my money messing around with toys all day.
Toys
Follow topics and stay updated on your areas of interest
8 comments
later