The luck of the draw. These words never were more relevant than how they pertained to a simple but nerve rattling game of Stay Alive. Your once mighty fleet of marbles had been whittled down to one lone sphere, amidst a sea that could open up any minute and swallow your prized sole possession like the Bermuda Triangle.

It all came down to the levers, the evil levers. You had to pull them. Everyone had to pull them. And with each ginger tug, one made with all the apprehension one might expect from a bomb squad and a pair of wire snips, you were either going to victoriously sink your opponents marbles, or lose your own. Unlike the game of Ker Plunk, you could breathe a little easier knowing that a virtual marble avalanche wasn’t on the horizon. Although, at least Ker Plunk allowed to see what you were doing and estimate the consequences. Here, it was simply blind faith and that last marble was all that stood between you and defeat.

Stay Alive was played on a 7x7 grid of holes. A series of slides that surrounded the board were moveable into three positions, some which covered the holes and some that didn’t. Each player placed five color coded marbles onto the playing field and the fun began. As players took turns at the levers, they opened and closed holes on the surface of the board. Any marbles atop one of these opening holes had the misfortune of falling in. The player with last marble above deck won the game.

Normally, you wouldn’t wish death upon something, even the possessions of your adversaries. But there was sadistic glee that accompanied the sight of submerging enemy marbles that made the game so much fun to play. Of course, you also had to possess nerves of steel. This was one perspiration-inducing game and not for the faint hearted. And as a result, it was also a favorite of many a kid who didn’t mind a few wracked nerves.

Introduced in 1971, Stay Alive, produced by Milton Bradley was a popular staple of the 70s game closet. When it was repackaged in 1978, the company missed a prime opportunity to slap the faces of those loveable Bee Gees on the cover in all their disco glory (they were enjoying much success thanks to a hit song by the same name). It seemed so logical but it just didn’t materialize and the ramifications were severe. Neither the game, nor the pop music act, enjoyed much success into the next decade. That’s what happens when you ignore the obvious.

And yet, Stay Alive, the ultimate survival game, lives on in the hearts and minds of many. One can only hope that the traumatizing memories of pulling those sinister levers were replaced over the years by fond recollection.