When the Titans Fall
I played a lot of Titanfall this weekend. I mean, I binged. Hard. I don't do this often anymore, but I wanted to see what heights of mad skill I could still achieve as a wizened gamer past the peak of his twitchiness. The answer may be the video below, but that was recorded Sunday, the day after the epic 12-hour marathon. Was I honing my synapses and tendons on Saturday to unleash my true potential on Sunday? Maybe. The clip in question was from my best round thus far.
But I'm inconsistent as hell. I have my highs and lows, my epic killstreaks and my abjectly stupid failures. Maybe it's better this way. In the past, and especially in my Counter-Strike days, I would find myself bored for lack of challenge. I was even accused of cheating when particularly dominating. But there were never any aimbots for me. I wanted to know the game so completely that I felt it in my blood.
I don't know if I will ever reach that level in Titanfall. I just have too many other games to play, and I don't obsess over one game for months at a time. I will come back, though. Repeatedly. This game scratches an itch that sometimes comes to me. The tickle makes me feel like destroying something. Brutally, efficiently, and yes, thoughtfully.