The big news this month is that Susan Polgar is to join the scientific advisory board of Infectech (Sharon, PA). Polgar is the women's world chess champion and the rationale behind her appointment is that as a "brilliant strategist," she can help direct the entrepreneurialism of a medical technology company like Infectech. Chess-like logical thinking and planning many moves ahead are, of course, two of the more prominent attributes of a well-run biotechnology company. But other indoor pastimes may also serve as training grounds.

Biotechnology patent counsels, for instance, should practice Monopoly. Poker-playing CFOs will be able to tell potential investors that the target-binding compounds the company discovered last week were "on the verge of advanced clinical trials" with a straight face.

The CSO, meanwhile, will have honed his talents at the darts board. Keeping a proscribed distance from the sharp end of research, he will nevertheless insist on throwing everything at just a single target, even though there is a high probability that most of his shots will miss. Our CEO would probably excel at a game like Pictionary: In your very brief time with investors, you have to convey a picture of your company's prospects that is convincing even though it is derived from an ill-defined notion drawn from an obscure corner of science.

But the game that biotechnology executives like to play when they are actually at work is Jenga. A start-up company in its early days has a clearly defined, solidly interlocking shape, and the task of management is to grow it in a particular direction. This is usually done by removing components lower down in the structure that seem to be nonessential and promoting them to the top. Eventually and inevitably, however, the whole top-heavy edifice collapses and a new management team comes in to pick up the pieces.

What is the ideal game background for a venture capital investor? A lifetime at children's parties practicing "pinning-the-tail-on-the-donkey" might be just the thing.