There's a new club in town that meets behind closed doors, speaking in hushed tones as they huddle around wooden tables.

The men, women and at least one child talk politics, the economy and even trash talk each other a bit, although that is in jest.

And, every once in a while, someone cries out, arms raised in either victory or defeat as a game of crokinole is won or lost.

The club, or league as organizer Jorgen Sveistrup, 65, calls it, met for the first time Wednesday night at The Smorgasbord Deli on Seventh Avenue for a few rounds of a Canadian game dating back to 1876.

Sveistrup has played consistently since his family got a board as a Christmas gift when he was eight. It's his game of choice during the off-season from golf.

"That's what got us started and we've never stopped playing," he said between games. "It's an indoor game. It's a family game for all ages."

League co-organizer Dalton Strong, 59, was introduced to the game by his wife, Anita Strong, 30 years ago.

He's developed a passion for crokinole, studies its history and even makes his own game boards. He likes the game because it's an opportunity for people to sit and socialize.

"It doesn't matter if you are a four-year-old kid or a 94-year-old grandmother. You can all play together," said Strong. "It's a way for people to do things together."

Which is why Sveistrup and Strong formed the crokinole league: so players can engage in friendly sport with each other and against other communities. Strong said a league in Oliver has already put a challenge forward.

"My hope is to get approximately a dozen or two dozen regulars together and play once a week, all winter," said Sveistrup.

Sveistrup explained the rules of crokinole: the game is played with two players, or by four players in teams of two. Players take turns shooting their discs from the outer edge of their quadrant onto the playfield.

Shooting is done with the flick of a finger. Which finger is used is up to the player, and if the finger hurts by the end of the game, the player is flicking too hard, he said.

Scoring occurs after all pieces have been played. The player or team with the higher score is awarded the difference between the high and low scores for the round.

The players arrived in groups of two last Wednesday. Bob Gamble, 67, introduced son Jeff, 36, as "the crokinole champion of Saskatchewan."

"I thought this was a crib tournament," said Jeff.

He said this is the second time he's visited his dad in Kamloops and ended up playing crokinole. The previous time was a Canada Day tournament.

Soon Jeff and Sveistrup were firing disks back and forth across the board. Jeff leaned to one side of his chair in an attempt to strike one of Sveistrup's disks and came dangerously close to rising from his chair.

"One cheek on the chair, son," Gamble said, reminding Jeff that the bum cannot leave the seat.

The Gambles have played crokinole most their lives. Gamble played as a boy and he passed it on to Jeff.

"It was more popular than Monopoly when I was a kid," said Jeff.

One of Jeff's shots bounced off the table. Sveistrup's counter attack went wide, hitting nothing.

"I've got you rattled," said Jeff. In the end, Sveistrup emerged the victor.

Heather Crowe-Bohay and son Zack Crowe, 11, played against each other a table away. Like others in the league, Crowe-Bohay was introduced to crokinole as a child. Wednesday night's game was her first in years.

Zack came along willingly, saying he likes to spend time with his mom. A game into the night and he was enjoying the activity more than video games.

"It's just like curling," said Zack, an avid curler.

Zack happened to be losing that game to his mom, which isn't usually the case when the two play against each other. Zack responded to each missed shot or point scored against him by shaking a fist in the air.

Crowe-Bohay said she will buy a board and introduce crokinole to the rest of her family.

"My other son would like this. My husband would love it," she said.

Anyone interested in joining the league can phone Sveistrup at 250-573-5140 or drop by The Smorgasbord Wednesday night's at 6:30 p.m.