It's not the winning that's... no, wait, it is
A couple of years ago a group of us started playing computer games after work, just a single evening a week usually. Mostly we stuck to a game called Unreal Tournament, where the basic idea, as with so many of these games, is to run around in various mazes and shoot each other with guns. Lots of guns. I don't think of myself as a violent person - really, I'm not. But I am extremely competitive, to a degree I think most people would find surprising. It's not one of my more charming personality traits. Anyway, we didn't play for more than a few of months before a shift in offices and the application of a slightly harsher management regime put an end to our game playing. Last week, however, someone suggested starting it up again, and tonight Geno and I (the sole remains of our original group) took the first step by breaking out the installation disk and launching into a round (or several) of UT.
Geno is very good at these sort of games. Absurdly good. When I first played against him, I was embarrassed at how quickly he beat me. To call it an outright massacre would be to overstate my success - it wasn't a pretty sight. My pride was salvaged only by the fact that Geno rode roughshod over everyone. But I kept at it. I don't take much joy in losing consistently at anything, but at least I can take pride in improving. I'm pretty good with computer games in general and over the course of time I did get better, perhaps even to the point where I could stand toe to toe against Geno. I could certainly run rings around most of the rest of the group... which I may have taken some pleasure in doing. The problem with being so competitive is that I tend to make quite a bad winner. Even if I don't actively gloat, I can still barely disguise my inner smirk. In short I'm exactly the sort of person I find irritating in these situations.
Of course that was all a couple of years ago now, and given that I hadn't really played the game since then, I was slightly worried I'd be out of practice. But earlier tonight it all came flooding back to me - it was just like old times again. The atmospheric tension within the game, the rush of adrenalin as you hunt around the level searching for your prey, the getting pounded into a gooey mess by Geno within seconds of entering a new level.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Ah yes, just like old times indeed.
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I love FPS games, especially in DM. I could (and have) play them for hours, especialy with a good sized group.
The only problem is that I'm quite terrible at them.
I normally do well at the low-G Unreal levels, and am competent when we play with the instant frag option (I forget what it's called). But my game of choice - Half-Life - leaves me well and truly fragged on a regular basis. I think it's a lack of mouse-eye coordination :-) I can see the targets, but if I'm moving, I have a hell of a time tracking them. I suppose I just need practice! (Huh,.huh, anyone?)
There was one moment of glory when I and my opponent/partner of choice (brother-in-law Jon-Mikel) took on all other attendees at a LAN party in a Half-Life Team Fortress contest. It a LOT of fun. True, they were even more novice than me, but it's the one time in my FPS career when my frag ratio soared above others in the game. Ah, good times... ;-)
Mark, I never knew you had this bloodthirsty side to you. Very interesting... so many layers.
:)
I'm not bloodthirsty, I just have an overpowering need to prove myself by beating my opponent into a squishy pulpy thing.
Completely different matter altogether...