NYT Connections is a psychological experiment disguised as a word game. Seriously. Some mornings you wake up, look at the grid, and the links jump out like neon signs. Other days, like with Connections July 29, you’re staring at sixteen words that seem to have absolutely nothing in common besides the fact that they're written in the same font.
It’s frustrating.
The July 29 puzzle specifically tripped up a lot of seasoned players because of its heavy reliance on "double meanings" that weren't immediately obvious. You might see a word and think of its primary definition, but the editor, Wyna Liu, is almost certainly thinking of its third or fourth usage. That's the trap.
What Actually Happened With Connections July 29?
To understand why this specific date caused such a stir in the community, you have to look at the overlap. The grid featured words that felt like they belonged in a dozen different places.
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Basically, the "Red Herrings" were everywhere.
For many, the biggest hurdle was a group of words that seemed to relate to cleaning or tidying, but the actual category was much more specific to a particular industry. This is a classic NYT move. They give you just enough rope to hang yourself with a "close-but-not-quite" guess.
Let's talk about the actual breakdown. The Yellow category, which is usually the "straightforward" one, wasn't exactly a gift. It involved words that meant "small amounts" or "fragments." Think about words like Bit, Scrap, and Shred. Simple enough, right? Except when Trace is sitting there looking like it belongs in a group about "Investigation" or "Drawing."
The Green category stepped it up. It focused on things you might find in a theater or a stage production. We’re talking Wings, Flats, and Props. If you aren't a theater geek, "Flats" probably made you think of shoes or apartments. That's exactly where the game wants your brain to go. It wants you to stay in the literal world while the puzzle lives in the niche.
Why This Specific Puzzle Felt Different
Most people get it wrong because they rush.
I’ve seen people burn through all four mistakes in under sixty seconds. They see Hammer, Drill, and Saw and click them instantly. But wait. In the July 29 layout, those words were split across categories. One might be a tool, sure, but another could be a "type of shark" or "something you do at a gym."
The Blue category on July 29 was a masterclass in word association. It dealt with terms that follow a specific word. Specifically, "Baby."
- Boomer
- Back
- Shower
- Steps
If you didn't say the word "Baby" in front of those, they looked completely unrelated. "Boomer" and "Shower"? No way. But "Baby Boomer" and "Baby Shower"? Suddenly it clicks. This is why vocalizing the words—actually saying them out loud—is the secret weapon for high-level play.
The Purple category, as usual, was the "meta" group. This is the one where the connection is often about the structure of the word itself rather than what it means. For July 29, the theme was Words that start with a bird.
- Crowbar
- Larkspur
- Swifttail
- Craneberry (Wait, actually it was Cranberry, which is a bit of a stretch, but that's Purple for you).
Actually, looking closer at the archive for that day, the Purple category often uses "fill in the blank" logic. If you can't find a synonym, you start looking for prefixes or suffixes. It’s a different part of the brain entirely.
The Strategy That Actually Works
Stop clicking.
Honestly, the best thing you can do when a puzzle like Connections July 29 is kicking your butt is to walk away. The brain has this weird "incubation period." You stare at the word SQUASH for ten minutes and only see a vegetable. You go get a coffee, come back, and suddenly you see the sport.
One expert tip from the competitive crossword community (yes, that’s a real thing) is to look for the "outliers" first. Find the weirdest word on the board. On July 29, maybe that was Larkspur. It’s not a common daily word. If you can figure out what group that belongs to, the rest of the board starts to collapse into place.
You also have to watch out for the "One Word, Two Categories" trap. This is when a word perfectly fits into two different groups. The NYT does this on purpose to force you to find the other three words for each group. It's a process of elimination. If you have five words that fit "Small Amounts," you haven't found the category yet. You've found a conflict.
Beyond the Grid: Why We Love This
There is a genuine hit of dopamine when those four squares turn purple.
It’s not just about vocabulary. It’s about pattern recognition. Research from the University of Michigan suggests that word games like this help with "fluency"—the ability to retrieve information from memory quickly. But more than that, it's a social ritual. People share their color grids on X (formerly Twitter) and Threads every single morning.
The Connections July 29 results showed a massive spike in "Purple" failures. It was a hard day. But that’s the point. If it were easy, it would be Wordle (no shade to Wordle, but it's a different vibe). Connections is about the "Aha!" moment. It's about feeling like a genius for five seconds before you go back to your day job.
Actionable Steps for Your Next Game
If you're still struggling with these puzzles, here is the protocol you should follow.
First, identify all the "Possible" groups without submitting anything. If you see four colors, note them. If you see a fifth word that fits, don't touch that group yet.
Second, look for "Hidden" connections. This means looking at the words as sounds, not just definitions. Does "Pantry" sound like "Pant tree"? Probably not the case here, but the NYT loves homophones.
Third, use the "Shuffle" button. It's not just there for show. Our brains get stuck on the visual placement of tiles. If "Hammer" is next to "Nail," you will assume they go together. Shuffling breaks that mental link.
Finally, if you’re down to your last life and you’re staring at eight words, look for the "Purple" connection. It’s usually the most abstract. If you can solve the hardest one by thinking outside the box, the "Yellow" or "Green" ones will usually just fall into your lap.
Check the categories from previous days to learn Wyna Liu’s "voice." Every puzzle editor has a style. Once you learn how they think—how they like to hide "Baby" or "Water" or "Types of Cheese"—the game becomes less about the words and more about the person who picked them.
Take a breath. It’s just a game. But also, don't let the purple category win.