GeekUp Bit Sets: The Challenges and Surprises of Production

Many of you are probably familiar with the various GeekUp Bit Sets that BGG launched in August 2018. They're a simple little thing that adds to the gameplay experience by upgrading the cardboard in a game to bakelite-like plastic with a heat transfer label to apply the graphics.

Ooooooh, shiny!

However, what seems like a simple little thing is not quite so simple to make! I wanted to share the story of what all goes into producing these shiny little bits so that you can appreciate what all goes into them, and more importantly, the often unappreciated work that goes into all of the games you buy, which are far more complex to produce that a little set of bits!

The process of producing a GeekUp Bit Set starts with the game's original publisher. I approach them with the idea, and in general, they agree that yes, this sounds like a cool idea. After all, most of them are gamers themselves, and they want these bad boys to play with! We agree on a royalty, and they send me the graphic files. Easy peasy.

I then set out to isolate the graphics I need, saving the files in the correct sizes and formats. This is generally another simple task as the publisher has already done all of the graphic and layout work on the punch sheet files for the game. I'm just grabbing what I need.

After getting the files ready, I bring out my trusty Pantone chart along with a copy of the game to determine which colors of plastic would look the best with each graphic. The manufacturer has the exact same Pantone color chart, so if I tell them I want Pantone 801, I'll get the same pretty blue color that I intended, without the potential variance that can be caused by a difference in computer monitors or printers — or at least it will be very close as converting Pantone colors into plastics isn't an exact science.

Yes, 801 should do nicely

Once I get all that information rounded up, I send off the order to the manufacturer with an accompanying graphic that looks like this, verifying the plastic color, what should be applied to both the front and back of the tiles, and how many of that tile per set.

Order, please!

Usually within a day, the manufacturer gets back to me with a quote. I say, "Cool, sounds good!", and we finally get to work.

The manufacturer first makes a set of blank plastics so that I can approve the colors. Generally, this is no problem as they can shoot me pictures of the tokens on top of a Pantone color chart so that I can give a thumbs up that the match is close enough for my liking. They also send me a digital proof of the label sheet layout to ensure the graphics are being printed as intended.

Once I give the thumbs up, they make a sample set and FedEx it to me for final approval before production starts. There's generally some back and forth here to verify a few details and make sure everything is perfect for the production run.

Check out those samples — nice!

Once we make sure the details are set, I give a thumbs up, and production starts. A few weeks later, I get a package containing several sets from the production run.

*record screech*

This is where the problems started in the first production run. That really nice sample I received where every piece was perfect? Well, the final production sample has a lot of perfect pieces, but there are also a lot of pieces that look like this:

Not cool, man!

I email my factory rep, asking what the deal is. Why were the first samples so perfect, while the production run is so...not? I realize some small amount of variance is to be expected, but a lot of these piece are unacceptable.

It's explained to me that while the sample was carefully done by hand, label by label, the production process actually looks like this:

A human is trying to eyeball the centering on every rack, a rack that gets slid and lifted all over the place without any way of securing the tiles from shifting. Yeah, I now see how the labels can be significantly off-center, and wish I had inquired about the actual production process earlier!

After some back and forth on fair compensation for the difference between samples received and the final product, we set to work on solving the problem. The factory suggests a custom rack for the tiles that will keep them in place as the rack is passed around. I agree this would be helpful, but it doesn't solve the issue of the centering of the label sheet.

I propose that registration marks be printed on the label sheets, with those same registration marks being etched onto the custom trays. Now, the workers only have to align those marks, giving them a solid point of reference rather than having to eyeball things. This would also allow them to see whether the labels adhered in a way that was centered as the registration marks could be checked prior to peeling the label sheet back off.

Sample rack with registration marks

Sample label sheet with matching marks, complete with spoiler for an upcoming set

The factory says, "Bazinga!" or something to that effect, and sets off to work. A couple of weeks later, I get this preview of the new process:

I say, "Well, poop." The rack is definitely holding things in place, but where are the registration marks? I make it clear that we shouldn't proceed with production until this is solved as I can't afford a second run of tiles with centering issues. You were all kind enough to accept our solution to the issue the first time around, taking two bags of bits for the price of one and sorting through them for a complete set of perfect pieces; I want these to be as near perfect as possible in the second run.

The factory says they need to redo the process with a metal tray anyway as the wood is warping under the heat of the transfer machine.

A week or so later, I receive this image as a proof to approve on the printing of the next label sheet:

Oops, could this be...yet another spoiler!?!

Cool, but where are my registration marks? It's explained to me that the black rectangles are even better because they're marks that a machine can read.

A machine? I ask some more questions but don't really get a grasp of what this new process will be, other than that a machine is somehow centering and applying the labels now. I'm assured that this will be far more accurate than before, though, so I give another thumbs up, with the caveat that I want to see some video of the process so that I can understand exactly how it works.

A few more weeks pass, then I receive this:

My jaw hits the floor. How the heck did we go from a bunch of people shoving racks of loose tiles around a table, to a laser-cut wood tray still moved around manually, to this all of a sudden? It's amazing, but leaves so many questions!

a) Did they buy a new machine and implement it in this short time?
b) Did they have a machine and not use it before due to the relatively small production run?
c) Are the employees transformers who just forgot to transform during the first go-round?

I still don't know the answer as I just received the video in early October 2018 and was so intrigued, surprised, and excited about this turn of events that I decided to share as it's such a wacky and unexpected turn. We'll see how this production run turns out now, but darn if I'm not excited about it, and the potential to do oodles of these sets going forward!

Hopefully, this behind-the-scenes peek was an interesting one and helps you to appreciate everything that comes with your next game. Keep in mind that this is just

one

component we're producing here and that the next game you buy might have cards, punch sheets, minis, tokens, digital integrations, etc. that all present their unique hurdles to the production. Certainly no simple little thing!