The Competent Game Geek
by
Pig
I admire competence. I really do. I?d estimate that in 99% of the tasks that I perform, and ask others to perform, nothing more than basic competence is required. Weirdly, that seems simply too much to ask.
I?m not an impatient man. People make mistakes, mess up, and sometimes really blunder. In situations like that, I try very hard to extend a good amount of grace to them. I hope they?d do the same for me, simply because I probably blunder a bit more than the average man.
Real-Life Incompetence
What gets to me is unmitigated, unwavering, unapologetic, persistent incompetence, both major and minor. The inability to perform the basic tasks associated with your job, for example, is pretty darn common. I recently worked with a guy who tried to turn in an important report, destined to be read at the highest levels of our organization, that was hand printed using pencil and paper. When I questioned this, he told me that he did not know how to use Microsoft Word. (Then again, he?s only worked here for six years). My landscaper once billed me three times for the same job. He honestly forgot, when making out the first bill, to include costs for materials. After making out the second bill (and getting a second check), he realized he?d forgotten to include costs for subcontractors in his employ. That resulted in a third bill, and a third check from me. When he left the job site, he also left behind a major pile of trash and construction debris. He forgot to mention that I?d have to arrange for disposal of that myself. His persistent incompetence was almost the cause of significant amusement. Almost.
I once dealt with a real estate agent that guided his client to sell his home, yet led him to believe that he and his family could live there until they purchased a new house at some indeterminate date in the future. There were numerous contracts to sign, and multiple meetings with this agent. The specifics of needing to move out just never seemed to come up. The family was very surprised 90 days later when the new owners showed up to move in.
I also once witnessed a trial lawyer who, I firmly believe, actually helped the prosecution by repeatedly summoning bizarre witnesses, and by unabashedly performing crappy cross-examination. The charge? Murder. You?d think that a murder trial would be a time in which attentiveness and competence was pretty important. Guess not.
There are a thousand other examples. Oddly, in each case, the competence-impaired person didn?t knuckle down, put their nose to the grindstone, and try to do better. They just kept it up. And at the end, in each case, they got upset at someone else. The worker and landscaper were both miffed, temporarily, at me. The realtor didn?t think the whole mess was his fault. And the trial lawyer certainly did not blame herself when her client went to prison. (In reality, this guy?s goose was cooked anyway. She just made it worse.). This type of unwavering, persistent incompetence isn?t apparently very fond of responsibility, either.
Virtual Art Imitating Life
Why then, one must ask, does it surprise us when we are faced with the exact same things in the multiplayer games that we play?
You know exactly what I?m talking about. You?ve dealt with it countless times in the past.
Virtually all online games are team-based. If you are engaged in a first person military operation against Nazi?s, terrorists, or some fictional baddies, you depend on your teammates to do their share and get you all through to the end. If your game is more strategic, you depend on your allies to secure their own borders, keep their supply lines open, maintain order in their own countries, and stick to the basic plan that everyone agreed to. If you are playing a sci-fi/fantasy RPG, you expect the tanks to tank, the healers to heal, and the nukers to nuke. If everyone does his job, everything should go, more or less, according to plan, right?
Yeah. Right.
How many times have you invested hours in a game, made significant progress, approached within a few feet of your goal, and found yourself in a situation in which one of your teammates was systematically preventing you and your buddies from ever actually accomplishing anything. Not deliberately, of course. But he?s doing it just the same. And it just doesn?t seem to strike him that this is a problem.
Proper Planning
I?ve been in numerous conversations involving the competence-impaired person. Generally, there is a plan that has been thoroughly discussed ahead of time. Everyone pretty much either likes the plan, or is willing to put up with it. At a critical juncture, the competence-impaired player somehow makes his presence known.
“Remember, everyone stay to the right. The side door is lightly defended. If we are quick, we can get in and out before they figure out what happened,” says the team leader, Pogue.
“Ok,” says Jerrysdad.
“Yup,” says Dweeble.
“I?m ready,” says Snostril.
“Ya,” says NotInTheFace.
“Okay,” says UberGanker.
After everyone has checked in and agreed, Pogue says, “Ok, let?s go. Stick together.” Pretty much on cue, the team moves to the right, toward that vulnerable door. There is a bit of fighting as the team approaches, but with their massed firepower the team gets to the outside of that lightly defended doorway. If they can get inside, they have a good chance of winning.
“Ok, it?s tight in there, but if we all rush in we can pound anyone waiting to ambush us,” says Pogue.
“Lets make sure we all go in at the same time. If not, we?ll get picked off one by one,” says Dweeble.
“Ya, everyone at once,” says Pogue. “Ready? Go!”
At this point everyone rushes the door. There is a gaggle of confusion, and random, chaotic shooting. There are two defenders inside, one with a flamethrower.
“I?m on fire, as usual,” says Jerrysdad.
“Somebody shoot that guy,” says NotInTheFace.
“I?m out of ammo,” says Dweeble.
“I?m still on fire,” says Jerrysdad.
There?s another panicky few seconds of chaotic, cartoonish violence. This involves lots of shooting and screaming. Pretty soon, everyone chimes in again.
“I?m dead,” says Dweeble
“Me too,” says NotInTheFace.
“Me too,” says Pogue.
“My corpse is still on fire,” says Jerrysdad.
“Damn, that was close. A little more firepower, and we would have made it,” says Snostril.
“Yeah, looks like the Allies are gonna lose this one,” says Pogue. “How long till we respawn?”
“A few more minutes,” says Dweeble.
There are, at this point, a few more minutes of friendly, nonsensical chit-chat. Someone comments on how handsome their corpse is, lying on the ground like that. Someone else makes a joke about a “dirt nap.” If anyone?s corpse died on top of anyone else?s corpse, the bottom person has to say “You?re getting heavy,” “Get off me, you?re a nice guy, but I don?t like you that way,” or “Usually, you have to buy me dinner first.” There are lots of other friendly, adolescent remarks. You know the drill. Admit it.
…And He Makes His Presence Known
Of course, it?s generally about this point that someone asks the one question that ends up causing oh-so-much pissing and moaning. “UberGanker, did you die? Where are you?”
There is a long pause. “At the beach,” says UberGanker. “I?m sniping.”
There is another long pause, as everyone takes a few deep breaths, stops swearing at their monitor, and regains their patience.
“What are you doing way down there?” asks Pogue.
UberGanker, busy sniping, doesn?t answer.
“Uh, UberGanker, weren?t you supposed to be helping us get into the building over here?”
After a long pause, UberGanker replies, “I always get killed doing that.”
“Yeah, but we were counting on you,” says Dweeble.
“We would have made it if you?d have been here,” says Snostril.
“Didn?t you agree, and say you were ready?” asks NotInTheFace.
UberGanker remains silent. Probably busy doing some more sniping.
“C?mon, man, what were you doing that for. We all died,” says Jerrysdad, clearly pissed off. We all hope little Jerry can?t hear him swearing.
There is more silence from UberGanker.
“This is stupid,” says Dweeble. “If everyone just does whatever they want, why do they have teams for this dumb game?”
“I think they expect people to cooperate with each other,” says Jerrysdad.
“Gimme a break, okay? I said I ALWAYS get killed doing that!” says UberGanker.
“Wow!” says Pogue.
“Take it easy,” says Dweeble.
“Ouch!” says Jerrysdad.
“Try decaf, dude,” says Snostril.
“You guys are jerks. IT?S JUST A GAME. Why don?t you all just SHUT UP,” says UberGanker.
This results in a flurry of replies from everyone, none of which are fit to print. Besides, little Jerry might read this, and I wouldn?t want him to think badly of his dad.
“SOME PEOPLE don?t know how to have fun, and just want to wreck everyone else?s good time,” says UberGanker, and disconnects.
“What a jerk,” say Pogue, Dweeble, NotInTheFace, Jerrysdad, and Snostril, all at once.
And So On…
Basically, it pretty much follows that same pattern. Unfortunately, most of the competence-impaired players do not actually disconnect. They generally stay, and blame everyone else. Ultimately, everyone else ends up disconnecting after they cannot take it anymore.
No matter what kind of game you like to play, if it involves other players, the patterns repeat. Role players know this as well as anyone.
“I?m pulling,” says BigTank. “Some tough mobs are going to be coming.”
“Ok,” says GreenArrow.
“Ready,” says Malachi.
“Yeah, ok,” says BlackRogue.
“No problem,” says Healerdood.
“Bring ?em on,” says Sir Lostalot.
Sure enough, this is followed by hacking, slashing, nuking, yelling, panicking, running in circles, and the following conversation:
“I got killed,” says BigTank. “What went wrong?”
“I died by the stairs,” says Malachi. “Can anyone see my corpse?”
“I can. I died right next to you,” says BlackRogue.
“Don?t try to grope me like last time,” says Malachi. “Hehe.”
“But you?re so attractive in that robe of yours,” says BlackRogue.
“Am I dead? I see a long tunnel, and bright light!” says GreenArrow. “Is that you, Grandma?”
“Stay away from the light dude!” says BigTank.
“Yeah, don?t head toward the light, man,” says Malachi. “Hehe.”
And then, of course, the moment we?ve all been waiting for. Healerdood utters the immortal words, “Wow, what happened to all you guys?” Of course, this is followed by the requisite amount of profanity and monitor-smacking. Additional revelations that your good buddy “Healerdood” was at the fridge getting a Coke do NOT reduce the amount of swearing, hitting, and inventing new combinations of profane words. It also doesn?t help at all when he tells the group that they should have warned him that they were pulling. Of course, he wouldn?t have stepped away if he had been told ahead of time.
So just as in real life, in the pseudo-life of multiplayer gaming the same principles regarding incompetence apply. Simple competence is really an unrecognized treasure. Those who struggle with competence impairment are commonplace. Their ability to creatively express their impairment, especially at the most inopportune times, is a wonder to behold. It is only equaled by their utter inability to understand why anyone is mad at them. This is followed, of course, by their need to blame everyone else for what occurred.
And people complain that no one ever learned anything from these games.
Copyright 2002 and 2006 by Pig. All rights reserved.
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