8. A Gift From The Game Gods?

“Everyone has one special thing” – Dirk Diggler, Boogie Nights

What’s your thing? Bit of a whizz with the accounts? Inexplicably adept at orchid cultivation? First pick at the pub quiz? The Hoover King?

Here’s mine: I’m good at videogames. Not quite up with the hard-wired hardcore who can zip through Ikaruga in two-player mode, controlling a ship with each hand, while undergoing major cardio-pulmanary surgery and having their ear tongued by a lady. But… I’m there. Something in my spacial make-up is definitely a little more concentrated than the average. I have the skillz gene.

The Mighty Flynn. I thought he was real, I truly did.

When I was a directionless teenager – a slave to peer status – this was fine. In relation to the people who mattered to me, I felt strong, respected, admired. As a grown man-child settling into his mid-thirties, being a bit too good at videogames is not fine. It is bad. Like most blessings, it is also a curse.

Pull up a coffee table. Here comes a bit of self-psychoanalysis. I’ll keep it brief.

I went to a dog-rough comprehensive school where the concept of sport consisted of a fag-puffing ‘PE’ sadist telling us to fuck off and run around a lake twenty times. No care was paid to any of the things that kids can actually get out of sport (camaraderie, teamwork, leadership, self respect…).

When me and a few of the others discovered – almost by accident – that we were pretty zippy runners, we simply made our own sport. We decided who we were going to ‘be’ (various inappropriate football figures, super-heroes and pop stars) and we lifted ourselves up and away from the casual callousness of our ‘teacher’ by turning the round-and-round-a-lake thing into a private competition. We set up our own little races from this tree to that bench, timed ourselves, paced ourselves. It was fun, winning was satisfying and addictive, and we soon developed a decent network of friendly rivalries.

Michael Schumacher. Ace F1 driver. Admired.

So, when videogames – particularly public, arcade-based videogames – came along, it was never really me against the machine. It was me against the other players. The urge to topple long-standing scores was what drove me to battle through to the next level. There was kudos in being ‘known’ as a ninja on certain machines and a healthy notoriety in the domination of high-score tables. I once put a high score on a Defender machine at an arcade in Rhyl. A year later, when I went back for a repeat holiday, it was still there.

Some people might think that high-score competitiveness is ‘sad’ or ‘taking it too seriously’ or – that classic British stand-by – just ‘competitive’ (in a pejorative sense). But, as life grows ever more practical and safe and modulated, peer competition reminds me of those manic childhood days, when rising above the crowd for a while just felt good – lighting up a dank patch of urban scrub with a spontaneous bike-jump ramp challenge… the ‘hardest in the class’ thing… who can hold the most gobstoppers in their mouth/keep their hand over a flame for the longest/dribble out the stringiest ‘greeny’/get the ungettable girl…

Ronaldo. Ace footballer. Admired.

So, anyway. The Curse thing. Here’s why videogame skillageness is overrated…

1. Being Too Good For Your Own Good.
Back in 1985, the arcade owner at Mr. Nudge in Hanley got so fed up with me hogging machines and squeezing extended play-time from minimal outlay, he actually told me that I wasn’t allowed to play any ‘new’ games until they’d been “worn in a bit” by other players. These days, there’s probably an EU directive which would send him down for ‘emotional anguish to a minor’ or something, but back then I had to sneer and bear it.

2. Nobody Likes A Smart-arse.
At multiplayer gaming sessions, you either don’t play or you piss people off by winning too often. The ‘holding back’ option is no good, because it’s joyless for you, and it patronises the people you’re playing with. I once beat a close friend at SNES Street Fighter 2 by holding the joypad in one hand, while keeping the other behind my back. I milked it, he sulked. Only now can I appreciate how grindingly, punchingly, murderingly smug that was.

3. It’s Expensive.
I regularly spend 30-odd quid on a game that I sail through/fully unlock in two or three sessions. This feels like some kind of karmic payback for those teenage 10p-milking arcade marathons.

4. You Can’t Make Money With It.
Unless you’re a masochistic Korean willing to leave sleep – and sanity – far behind, being above-average at videogames is not a talent that leads to financial gain. I’ve walked away from poker and pool sessions with an extra few quid in my pocket, but, for some reason, no-one ever responds to my plea for: “Ten quid all-in. Highest score on DoDonPachi. Winner takes all”.

Billy Mitchell. Ace videogamer. Sniggered at.

5. Girls Do Not Care About How Good You Are At Videogames.
In fact, they’d probably equate it with some kind of innate deviousness and go for your reassuringly inept mate.

6. NOBODY Cares About How Good You Are At Videogames.
Other individual feats of dexterity are fine – a pin-sharp passing shot in tennis, a well-executed football volley, the crowd-pleasing panache of a dough-flipping pizza chef… But extreme gaming skill seems freakish and wrong. Sure, the dedicated souls who run web-sites like Twin Galaxies and MARP will always be there for you and they’re nice guys and all, but… well… see 5.

The main problem is that a thirtysomething man comes with a pre-judged skill-set – DIY, car maintenance, the odd bit of whisky knowledge, nappy-changing, assertive complaining, basic back-rub proficiency… Finishing Virtua Tennis 2 in ‘Hard’ mode without losing a round does not enter into it.

I have this awful feeling that I did indeed waste my videogaming youth, because I was too preoccupied with being good at the games to appreciate them for what they were. So, with a new year on the way, here’s a resolution… I’m going to ease up, try to enjoy my gaming a bit more and stop being so obsessed with high scores and fast completion times and perfect-chaining. It’s time to leave the skillz to the kidz...

In fact, I’m gonna write that down and keep the note with me at all times - just to make sure I stick to it. Hang on… I don’t have a pen or paper to hand.

I’m sure I’ll remember it.

SICKBOY, December 2003

- Ignore me and go compete at Arcade Mania, “early next year”…

- MARP.

- Twin Galaxies ‘Intergalactic Scoreboard’.

- A top little high-score site with movies of super-fast GoldenEye runs.

- Incredible Metroid Prime 100% speed-run – 1 hour, 37 minutes.

____________________________________________________________________