 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||
|
|||
What Dio did for his holidays. I’ve been stuck in the States for two weeks.This isn’t the pain in the neck it used to be, as instead of an extremely expensive rectangular box with attached shower and air-conditioning unit (i.e. a Silicon Valley hotel room) I’m able to stay with long-time friends who work for the same company. They’ve got the Fox Soccer Channel, always keep the fridge well stocked, and despite a slight mosquito problem this year because of the wet spring, it’s made travelling out here far more enjoyable. And of course, where there are friends and beer and nights in, there are videogames. And, because this is America, I dig out the latest Madden. Mate isn’t sure if I’ll be able to cope with it but I remember my glory days and whack it in anyway. Then I get a look at the manual. Crikey. It never used to be like this when there were only three buttons on the pad.
I’ve a great fondness for John Madden. Not the portly ex-coach who’s the Andy Gray of the US of A, but the games. They were the first of the really huge Megadrive games we stocked at the console shop, and led to the Hotline Rule on the phone – if you had two callers who only asked for one specific game in a row then put the phone down, you had to pick up the phone as the hotline. Hence, “Hello, the John Madden hotline”. The first few Megadrive iterations got a right bashing from us. Everyone developing their own tactics and favourite teams, house rules such as the banning of the rubbish shovel pass (HB Toss Left, if I remember correctly), great fun all round. That was what beer and console evenings were supposed to be like. The disk spins up, we click through the obligatory introduction screens and the game starts, and before I’ve worked out what I’m looking at, the play clock’s timed out and I’ve lost five yards. Second time, I’m looking through the options for offensive plays. I recognise the formation I want and pop up the play list. Whoa. What happened to “RB Draw”? All the plays are, err, confusingly named to say the least. The diagrams are jazzed up to make them look good, which means I can’t work out who is going where. I run the play. Before I can work out which button to press to pass I’m stuffed. Or did I pick a running play? So it’s three and out, and the punt inevitably goes wrong because I didn’t whatchamacallit the doodah in the right way. Oh well, defense should be easier…
Afraid not. I never bothered working out defensive play diagrams – I never needed to; 3-4/4-3/goal line and zone/man/blitz was all I needed to know. But these plays are, once more, named creatively, and therefore I can’t work out what’s going on. After my mate long-bombs a touchdown on his second play, I put the Wavebird down and state “No point.” There isn’t. I wouldn’t make a play if I played all night. Surely this is wrong. I watch the Superbowl every year, have no trouble following the commentary, know all the rules – hell, I’ve even been to a few live games and don’t find any of it remotely confusing. So it’s not the game, it’s just the game, if you see what I mean. What happened to American Football games? When did all this happen? Why wasn’t I told? Other EA sports games seem to have survived relatively intact, NHL, FIFA, NBA are all still as playable in current iterations as they were on the megadrive, but Madden? Maybe it’s what games design guru Greg Costikyan describes as Grognard Capture, after a phenomenon observed in tabletop wargaming, where hardcore fans demand so many rule updates and changes that the game becomes so convoluted that nobody can play it. Each rule change, each ‘enhancement’ loses a portion of the players who simply no longer understand what’s going on. More importantly, if you haven’t been privy to every iteration of these changes then they appear to be so complex that you simply have no way of understanding the final result. Our American cousins have been feverishly hoovering up EA’s customary bi-annual updates while those of us with a slightly more casual attitude to the delights of American Football can only watch from the sidelines, astounded at the sheer mass of information required simply to throw a ball.
Football seems to have survived, as have Hockey and Basketball – probably because we instinctively understand ‘point at the goal (or hoop) and shoot’ – but American Football, a sport defined around it’s ability to confuse and befuddle the opposing team, has become inaccessible to newcomers to the game. Of course, it is possible I’m just shite. It’s another day. I’m staying with another friend. I write this at 2am. We came in from the pub four hours ago and picked up another wavebird. We played a couple of perfunctory games of an old version of FIFA and a swift pint. Another pint, another game, or bedtime? And then Super Monkey Ball 2 surfaced to the top of the game pile. It’s 2am now, and I’m pissed, and my face hurts from smiling so much. Sometimes, simple games really are more fun. February 2006
|
