For the Love of the (Video) Game

I can understand why sports video games leave certain things out.  We don't need to see play stopped because some fan threw a beach ball into the outfield or watch some guy mop up the floor after a guy takes a charge on the basketball court.  Do these things happen?  Yes.  Do they happen pretty often?  Yup.  Do I miss them when I'm playing a video game?  Not at all.  These are things that only a hardcore sports fan thinks about, but I think the majority of us (yes, I love my sports, but not too much...) are fine with these omissions.  These are artificial things that don't really affect the players, physically, emotionally, or psychologically.  Unfortunately, there are things that are omitted from the games that do effect players on the emotional and psychological level.  Do I feel like they need to be in the game?  Yes.  Why?  Because it definitely effects the people playing the game, as it would in real life.

I was playing Mario Baseball against my friend, who owned the game and the Game Cube.  I realize this is a very unrealistic version of baseball, but it's still grounded in the rules and strategies of baseball.   I know there are special trick pitches and "star" swings that automatically hit home runs if you hit the ball, but you can still use hit and runs, and more importantly play mind games with the opposing manager (my friend).

For some reason my friend would always pick at least one of the Baby Mario characters and one of the female characters (Daisy or Peach).  I say this not because I think women and children are terrible at baseball, I say it because I care my friend never seems to learn his lesson.  I would always pick Waluigi (because I value pitching over hitting, like a real baseball fan) and a bunch of adult male baddies.  If my friend would gain some momentum while batting (getting a couple of guys on base), and one of the aforementioned characters would come up to bat (Peach, Daisy, Toadette, Baby Mario, Baby Luigi), I'd immediately bean them with a fastball on the first pitch of the at bat.  While this gives the batter a free base (like a walk), it really would infuriate my friend.  He would be so filled with rage that he wouldn't be able to concentrate, and I'd be able to strike a couple of his batters out, if not all of them.  Am I playing "dirty"?  Sure.  But what do I care?  I'm the bad guys anyways.  And even if I wasn't, this is baseball and this is what happens.  When a guy hits a home run, you bean him the next time he's up.  You send a message.  

The basketball equivalent to beaning a batter is to commit a "hard foul" or a flagrant foul.  Either way you're looking to send a message.  In video games, there is no way to differentiate a hard foul from a regular one (not sure about flagrant).  So in basketball video games, I use the Hack-a-Shaq technique on my friends when one of their players seems to be on some sort of hot streak.  If you're not familiar with this strategy, it became famous in the earlier part of this decade when teams would foul Shaquille O'Neal every time he touched the ball (in the fourth quarter especially), forcing him to shoot free throws.  O'Neal was a terrible free throw shooter so it often was a better alternative than letting him score at will.  In a video game, I don't need to be playing a friend that has Shaq on his team.  I will foul whoever their best player is and force them to shoot free throws, not because they're less likely to score, but because it'll cause my friends to get frustrated.  Either they'll start missing free throws because of its tedious nature, or they'll start launching terrible shots trying to beat my foul.  Either way, it gives me a chance to get back into the game.  

Of course there are times where I don't get to play against friends, so that means I'm playing against the computer or someone who doesn't understand the hilarity of my mind games.  Honestly, my friends don't care too much when I do it, they're as angry as they are serious about the trash they talk.  Unfortunately,  I've met people (usually kids) who like to play games with the sole intention of whaling on their opponent.  They refuse to play other games and they're just brats in general.  They take any enjoyment out of the game with their piss poor attitudes and they really like to rub it in.  They think winning 10-0 is more entertaining than being in a tight game with both players on edge of their seat.  This is why I'm sad that the Mutant League Franchise of the mid 90s failed.  In a Mutant League video game, if a kid was running up the score on you, you could just try destroying his team to make him forfeit.  Getting frustrated? Take out the ref.  No matter how far behind you are, there's always a way to win or do at least go down swinging.  Maybe the games of today could learn something from that defunct franchise to teach the children of today.  It's not if you win or lose, it's literally how you play the game.

My Issues With Averman (and the Rest of the Mighty Ducks)

There is something special about a TV or movie character that grew up/lives in the same area as you.  I'm not talking about the actor playing the character (while that is nice as well), but the actual character on screen.  There's a strange kind of validation and this is not specific to the small town folk.  At a screening of Anchorman in San Diego, I saw the audience erupt in laughter as Will Farrell tried to convince Christina Applegate that San Diego meant whale's vagina in German.

I saw Anchorman twice in the theaters (once in San Diego, once in Irvine), and while the joke got laughs both times, I could tell that the San Diego crowd appreciated the joke a lot more.  It was almost as if the laughter beamed "he's talking about us!"  I think sitting with the hometown audience actually made the experience more enjoyable.  To see a movie taking place in San Diego with the local folk (even though San Diego is a population of 1 million plus) is pretty surreal.

Unfortunately movies often perpetuate stereotypes, which kind of kills that enjoyable hometown experience.  Anchorman takes place in San Diego but doesn't make fun of San Diego.  Fargo, on the other hand, takes place in Minnesota and gives their characters the Minnesota "accent".  It's ironic that Fargo makes Minnesotans look ridiculous since Joel and Ethan Coen, the writers and directors of the film (whom I love dearly), are both from Minnesota.  I don't believe that their intent was to ridicule Minnesota or show how all Minnesotans talk, but as a result of the film, this is one of the first misconceptions about Minnesota that I need to fix whenever I meet someone who wants to know where I'm from.  Don't get me wrong, I love the movie, and I blame this annoyance on the viewers not being able to discern fact from fiction, not on the Coens.

This leads me to The Mighty Ducks, a film that I have a strange connection with.  It was aimed at me in so many different ways.  I was a kid, I was from Minnesota (where the movie takes place), and I loved hockey.  So on paper this movie was heaven on earth for me, but actually things get kind of complicated (Flying V's and triple deeks aside).  

I love the underdog story, I love the fact that they make allusions to the good team being from Edina (one of the richest cities in America, people say Edina stands for Every Day I Need Allowance), and I love the fact that they make pee-wee hockey seem like it's broadcast TV worthy (not a huge stretch, high school hockey is amazing in Minnesota), but there are two things that stick out like a sore thumb.  The Minnesota North Stars in which they attend, and the fact that Les Averman is from Brooklyn Park.

I was a huge Minnesota North Stars fan and I believe this was the last game of theirs I saw before their movie to Dallas.  It was a game against the Hartford Whalers.  It was the game the kids attended in the movie, which we were told at the time was going to be titled Bombay.  The North Stars ended up losing the game in the waning seconds after Adam Burt flipped a shot over Jon Casey off of a face off with about 4 seconds left.  It left a bad taste in my mouth and I have to relive that every time I watch the movie.  They conveniently left out the heartbreaking end of that game.

Les Averman is probably the only kid in the movie that I don't like and I don't like him at all.  At then end of the film the kids all say where they're from.  I was hoping to hear Brooklyn Park, but I was hoping to hear it from someone else, not Averman.  A lot of the kids improve in the film or start to stick up for themselves, but not this kids.  He's just dead weight who tells bad jokes.  I wasn't expecting Charlie Conway (Joshua Jackson) to be from Brooklyn Park, but I was hoping we'd get represented by someone who I didn't think was completely lame.  Fortunately I haven't received any criticism from anyone comparing me to him since we're from "the same place".  

Currently I reside in a weird place, Southern Orange County.  There have been plenty of TV shows, fictional and reality and movies about this specific location, but I have no connection either way.  Perhaps it's because I called Minnesota and San Diego home, while I call South OC just a temporary place live.

Cock Block

I went to DC a couple of years ago for St. Patrick's Day.  I was single, had a green shirt, and I had a place to crash.  If I was making more than your typical retail salary, it would be the ideal situation.  Other than Bruce, who's place I was crashing at, I had no ties to anyone there and during St. Patrick's Day, everyone there was ready to party.  What happens in DC, stays in DC, no?

Bruce knows me better than anyone else, but all that basically means is that there are very few things I could do that would surprise him.  So if I decided to be someone else this weekend, he probably wouldn't of even thought twice about it.  I didn't really have a set plan when he picked me up from the airport.  I just planned to have a lot of fun.  I asked him what he had planned for St. Patty's Day, he didn't really have a plan, just to grab a bit to eat and perhaps drink at his place.  His two single and female roommates decided otherwise when we got to his apartment after dinner.

So the two girls, (lets name them Barbara Ann and Rhonda because of their ties to Beach Boys song titles), brought us to a bar where Barbara Ann was supposed to meet with this guy who she thought liked her.  She didn't seem too enthused by the idea but was willing to meet with him.  We'll name him Carl.  Carl brought his friend who had also flown out from California.  This guy was in total "wing man" mode.  While I had no interest in Barbara Ann (probably not a good idea to try to hook up with your best friend's roommate while in town), I decided who I was going to be for the weekend.  Carl's cock blocker.  

Carl would buy us a round of shots, presumably to get Barb pretty plastered.  His douchey friend would try to have interesting conversations with Bruce, Rhonda and I.  But whenever Carl muttered anything about going to his place, I would enter the conversation with some sort of alternative idea.

"Hey Barbara, if we go back to the apartment, I'll play you a Brittany Spears song on guitar!"

This would excite Barbara and cause Carl to order another round.  I would dance with her and find ways to make her laugh.  I knew what was going on and I wanted to make Carl pay for it.  See, what was going to happen was inevitable.  She was going to go home with him.  It sounds callous, but this was just her way, but since I wasn't informed of this until the middle of all of this, I reveled in playing the role of the spoiler.  I was doing the right thing and was being rewarded with drinks that I couldn't afford.

On this trip to DC, I decided that out of all the personas I could've chosen for the weekend, I wanted to be the hero and I failed.  Unfortunately you can not save those who do not want to be saved.  I think Barbara ended up dating this guy, which puzzles me, and is probably a worthy story in its own right, but I will never be able to tell it, because the second I stepped on that plane going back to California, I was no longer the hero, I was just me, and what happened in DC was going to stay there, as far as my conscience was concerned.