December, 1983. My brother and I are disconcerted with the fact that
there is one present under the tree with both our names on it and a shocking lack of
anything else that could be construed as a possible present for us. When we opened it, lo
and behold: A brand new Atari 2600, complete with every game a child could want: Battlezone,
Galaxian, Pitfall, and Asteroids.
I had already been used to playing larger games in video arcades, when I could talk my
parents into letting me go to one, but this was my very first experience with playing any
type of game at home. Needless to say, it was not a dreary winter for us that year. That
was when I first experienced the syndrome known as gamer’s thumb, when, after a
particularlly long Asteroid session, I stood up to walk away and realized my thumb was
still jerking in a short, spasmodic motion, as if it were still striking the firing button
on the joystick. It stayed that way for at least an hour after the game and caused me to
realize some of the physiological effects that game playing could have on my life down the
road. It was also at this point that I realized cursing at a game screen was appropriate
and that video game characters do have some form of free will, because I SWEAR I hit the
jump button and Mario just decided on his own to run off the side of the platform, and I
could have sworn he flipped me off just before he did it . . .
The summer of 1999. I was a poor, struggling undergraduate student – though the
only real difference now is that I am a poor, struggling graduate student. I desperately
sought something that would take my mind off the pressures of school, work, and all the
other aspects of my life. As I drove down the main street of the college town in which I
found myself, I saw a sign advertising a Used Video Game Store. Intrigued, I pulled into
the parking lot and walked into the store, unaware of what was about to befall me.
It was if I had entered into H.G Well’s Time Machine and traveled back to the days
of my childhood. On the shelves, I saw old, beloved Atari cartridges bearing such titles
as Frogger, Battlezone, Galaxian, Donkey Kong, and last, but never least, Asteroids.
Admittedly, they were a bit dusty; why would kids of today want to look at games created
so long ago when games like StarSiege: Tribes and Command and Conquer: Tiberian
Sun were on the market, with their sleek boxes, flashy graphics, and sexy
CD-ROM’s? It was a valid question as I myself walked by them and found myself staring
at that beautiful, black cover with the hostile, shadowed faces staring back at me with
their glowing eyes.
The title said Starcraft, but what it said to me was "Kiss your time
goodbye, buddy boy. You ain’t gonna sleep for the next two weeks." The faces on
the cover were veiled and mysterious, alien and dangerous and the inside cover graphics
were bright, flashy, and impressive. As I had played other Blizzard titles before, I was
well aware of the kind of game I was going to be playing. Since I had enjoyed playing
them, I felt as though getting this game would be well worth my time and money, especially
since the game was used and would only cost me $19.
It was the first video game I ever bought for myself. I would reckon that I spent the
next two weeks playing that game non-stop, pausing only to eat, work, stand up in order to
revive sensation in the lower part of my legs. I would also estimate that I slept for
about twelve hours during the first week of playing and about ten during the second. I was
hooked. I couldn’t get enough of the characters and simply lived just to get to the
next cut scene so that I could see what would happen next.
March 2001. While surfing around at CNET Downloads, I find a reference to the Unreal
Tournament download. As I am at school and have a T1 connection, downloading and
installing the file takes only a few minutes. I have heard quite a bit about the Unreal
engine and its impact on the online deathmatch scene and am interested to see what all the
hype is about. Since I have a few minutes, I decide I will play a round or two and see if
the game is all it’s cracked up to be.
About five hours later, all the lights in my apartment are off, the sound on the stereo
is cranked up to about one hundred decibels. I am still eating up every second of the
carnage, brutality, and sheer savagery of a game whose graphics and speed leave me
absolutely breathless. I have played other multiplayer FPS’s before and feel as
though I am somewhat proficient in the art of the strafing kill and the long distance
snipe, but nothing really prepared me for playing in this kind of immersive environment.
Now, I know that console players, specifically N64 players, feel that PC gamers, like
myself, have been deprived of many of the joys of these kinds of games and that our
universes are limited, but nevertheless, I have never played this kind of game before. It
was awe-inspiring. I mean, many times, I would run away from the battle just so I could
admire the level of effort that was put into creating the small details that make up so
much of the game. The sound effect of dripping water in some of the lower levels, the
exploding chunks of flesh when a grenade connects, the exalting spiritual experience of
loosing six rockets at a target in an isolated room where there is no room for evasion or
escape. Honestly, I have never experienced Nirvana, but I have a feeling that
deathmatches will somehow be involved.
