Watch Out for Me
At a work-related party at Dave & Buster's this evening, I decided to try the new virtual reality boxing game they've setup there.
Before I get into the details, let me mention that I think while video game technology is astounding these days, most of the games released in the past several years are, well, sort of underachievements. Almost like the modern blockbuster summer movie, most of the games out there (and arcade games in particular) seem to be recycling the same fewer and fewer themes.
I mean, sure, there was never that much variation, but at least you could choose between space games and robot games and games with cute bouncy cartoon characters, and so on and so forth. But really, you walk into a place now, and you can play games where:
1. You race something (literally)
2. You shoot someone (literally)
That's about it, really. Remember the days when there was a premium in video games for uniqueness? Building hamburgers in Burgertime, or defending cities from a nuclear attack in Missile Command, or rescuing girls from evil gorillas in Donkey Kong, or being the evil gorilla and destroying buildings in Rampage. . . . I could go on and on. I think people have just given up now.
"A game about evil gorillas. Hm . . . interesting. So are you saying you want to shoot evil gorillas? Or perhaps — OH how novel! — you want to RACE evil gorillas? Let me get that to our marketing department right away!"
Ah, where have all the good games gone? (I mean, wow, how cool would a virtual reality full cockpit first-person version of Spy Hunter be? Oh my god, that would kick so much ass, I think — complete with vibrations from the hood-mounted gatlin guns and a rear view mirror to see when those bulletproof purple limousines are creeping up on you, and a great bump and squeal effect when you drove up into the weapons van — I always wanted to drive up into a truck like that and see what it would be like — too much Knight Rider as a kid maybe. . . . Okay, I think I've gotten myself too excited now. Breathing deeply.)
Anyway, nostalgia issues aside — back to me playing the boxing game. Okay, I found myself having to admit that, despite all my aforementioned video game jadedness, this was a cool game.
While not much different than Mike Tyson's Punch-Out or something in terms of the general rules (I mean really — how much leeway is there in a game about boxing in the first place? At least the opponents were real looking boxer type people. . . .) the thing was setup with two kind of pretend boxing gloves that you hold in your hands, and a marked area in which to stand, where motion sensors can see you leaning or stepping or ducking, and then you, well, pretty much just hit the other guy where he's open and try not to get hit yourself.
I'd watched another guy play it first, and he was getting schooled pretty bad. I was fully prepared to be embarrassed, should anyone be watching too closely, so I kind of wandered away from the crowd to play it.
Perhaps it was a few weeks of pent up work angst — I don't know — but I took out the first guy on a technical knockout in three rounds without even getting a scratch myself. Not a single slice gone from my virtual health meter thingy. Second opponent was tougher, but I knocked him out cold in the second round.
At that point my CFS was kicking in something serious from all the sudden exertion, and I suddenly realized I felt like I was going to faint, so I quit the game even though I was still in the running, but not before several coworkers had started chattering about wishing they'd brought a camera, and another coming up and saying meekly, "Um, dude, remind me never to piss you off. That was, like, amazing. Ha ha."
Sort of made my day, it did.
Reflecting on the experience a few minutes later, I was sort of laughing at myself. Granted, a boxing video game is only that, but for a 29-year-old who has, honest to god, never been in a fist fight in his life (and is vehemently opposed to physical violence like that anyway), it was really amusing how naturally it came. Weird.
Anyway, next we'll see the Dalai Lama tipping cows or something. Who knows what's after that. . . .
Before I get into the details, let me mention that I think while video game technology is astounding these days, most of the games released in the past several years are, well, sort of underachievements. Almost like the modern blockbuster summer movie, most of the games out there (and arcade games in particular) seem to be recycling the same fewer and fewer themes.
I mean, sure, there was never that much variation, but at least you could choose between space games and robot games and games with cute bouncy cartoon characters, and so on and so forth. But really, you walk into a place now, and you can play games where:
1. You race something (literally)
2. You shoot someone (literally)
That's about it, really. Remember the days when there was a premium in video games for uniqueness? Building hamburgers in Burgertime, or defending cities from a nuclear attack in Missile Command, or rescuing girls from evil gorillas in Donkey Kong, or being the evil gorilla and destroying buildings in Rampage. . . . I could go on and on. I think people have just given up now.
"A game about evil gorillas. Hm . . . interesting. So are you saying you want to shoot evil gorillas? Or perhaps — OH how novel! — you want to RACE evil gorillas? Let me get that to our marketing department right away!"
Ah, where have all the good games gone? (I mean, wow, how cool would a virtual reality full cockpit first-person version of Spy Hunter be? Oh my god, that would kick so much ass, I think — complete with vibrations from the hood-mounted gatlin guns and a rear view mirror to see when those bulletproof purple limousines are creeping up on you, and a great bump and squeal effect when you drove up into the weapons van — I always wanted to drive up into a truck like that and see what it would be like — too much Knight Rider as a kid maybe. . . . Okay, I think I've gotten myself too excited now. Breathing deeply.)
Anyway, nostalgia issues aside — back to me playing the boxing game. Okay, I found myself having to admit that, despite all my aforementioned video game jadedness, this was a cool game.
While not much different than Mike Tyson's Punch-Out or something in terms of the general rules (I mean really — how much leeway is there in a game about boxing in the first place? At least the opponents were real looking boxer type people. . . .) the thing was setup with two kind of pretend boxing gloves that you hold in your hands, and a marked area in which to stand, where motion sensors can see you leaning or stepping or ducking, and then you, well, pretty much just hit the other guy where he's open and try not to get hit yourself.
I'd watched another guy play it first, and he was getting schooled pretty bad. I was fully prepared to be embarrassed, should anyone be watching too closely, so I kind of wandered away from the crowd to play it.
Perhaps it was a few weeks of pent up work angst — I don't know — but I took out the first guy on a technical knockout in three rounds without even getting a scratch myself. Not a single slice gone from my virtual health meter thingy. Second opponent was tougher, but I knocked him out cold in the second round.
At that point my CFS was kicking in something serious from all the sudden exertion, and I suddenly realized I felt like I was going to faint, so I quit the game even though I was still in the running, but not before several coworkers had started chattering about wishing they'd brought a camera, and another coming up and saying meekly, "Um, dude, remind me never to piss you off. That was, like, amazing. Ha ha."
Sort of made my day, it did.
Reflecting on the experience a few minutes later, I was sort of laughing at myself. Granted, a boxing video game is only that, but for a 29-year-old who has, honest to god, never been in a fist fight in his life (and is vehemently opposed to physical violence like that anyway), it was really amusing how naturally it came. Weird.
Anyway, next we'll see the Dalai Lama tipping cows or something. Who knows what's after that. . . .