Games you play to win, games you play to keep playing
Some contests want an ending. Others quietly want to continue forever.
There is a useful split between games organised around producing a winner and games organised around continuing. The first kind has an ending built into its structure. Someone crosses a line, the position resolves, the scores are compared, and the thing is over by design. The second kind has no natural terminus. It runs until people are tired or hungry, and the aim, whether anyone says so or not, is to keep the thing alive and interesting for as long as everyone is enjoying it. Both are legitimate. Confusing which one you are in causes most of the friction at a table.
The confusion usually runs in one direction. One person is playing to win a contest that the others thought was a way of spending the afternoon. That person is not doing anything wrong by the letter of the rules, and is often puzzled by the cooling of the mood. What they have missed is that a group can hold an unspoken agreement about the kind of game being played, and that this agreement is every bit as real as the printed rules while being considerably easier to breach without noticing. Saying out loud at the start which sort of evening this is costs nothing at all and prevents a surprising amount of quiet resentment.
Once you have the distinction, you can choose deliberately. Some nights want a clean result, a decisive finish and the small satisfaction of a settled question. Other nights want the loose kind, where the shape drifts, side deals form, someone invents a variation and it sticks. Neither is superior. What matters is that everyone at the table is playing the same one, because a group half committed to a result and half committed to continuing will produce an evening that satisfies neither impulse, resolves nothing in particular, and sends everybody home mildly deflated.