The Prize of Passion

1st October 2007

"You wanna try?" asked 1 of the formally-dressed 6,000-point players with an outstretched arm and the end of the controller facing me.

“Try? TRY? Hah. I'll show you 'try.' When I play, it's not about 'trying,' it's about showmanship, it's about competition, it's about going for the kill,” my inner voice rang in my head. But before my competitive arrogance had time to fully settle in, I felt a cold shiver running through my spine... a shiver of Performance Anxiety. The change in the play environment, the difference in the feel of the all-too-familiar controller were all potentially valid factors, but none of them stacked up against the fear of underperforming, especially not when it was in a semi-public environment, and people (albeit not much) were going to watch. And of course, being touted as the office Golden Boy didn't make matters any easier either.

It was going to be beyond a matter of pure skill, it was going to be more than just a game; it was going to be an act of showmanship, a performance. Me against the music, if the "music" came in a literal form of one quirky German boss, and a small room of onlookers. With butterflies in my stomach, I took a deep breath and firmly grasped the controller. “Sure,” I said.

Time to Play the Game

I started out slow, hiding in my usual bottom-right corner, taking out the familiar Blue Diamonds and Green Squares with great ease. Yep, if every performer has his/her signature entrance, then mine would surely be this display of (false) confidence. The score raked up.... 20,000.... 40,000..... 60,000.... that's it! The screen was starting to flood with all manner of shapes and colours, and touching any one of them would entail a bright burst of on-screen fireworks and the loss of a precious life. “Every 75,000 for a life, every 100,000 for a bomb”, I kept repeating in my head, as I was forced to start moving.

"When did you start playing this game?" the question from a conversation with a colleague a few days back rang through my head.

"Actually, I only started playing when I came into this company," I recalled my answer.

"Wow, and you can score so high in such a short time, you must be talented in this," he replied.

I smirked.

Talented? Perhaps, you could say that I am, but I believe that the essence of my talent is not so much of being exceptionally good at a single game, but rather it is in the art of Adaptability, being able to adapt quickly to a new game mechanic and quickly picking up the nuances of a new system; an Art that naturally came with the amount of dedication that put into my passion, and this adaptability probably shines through in my everyday life as well. A random Green Square did a quick turn and rammed into my ship, causing it to burst into light. I lost my first life... as I peered up to the top of the screen to see 6 remaining lives.... 6. The score... 343,000.

I smirked as my ship respawned, knowing that I had already overcame the initial Performance Anxiety. My score for 1 single life was already more than what most in the house could do in 1 entire sitting, now I had to watch out for my other nemesis, Carelessness. The chase was on again.

Yes, dedication was the order of the day. The dedication to pump in a few hours everyday in the post-office hours to leisurely train with my 2 partners in psuedo-competition rules, and and additional amount of dedication on top of that by playing some more after getting home. Discipline has never been one of my stronger suits in most aspects of my life, but I guess if there is anywhere that I applied it, it had to be here. Yes, it is this dedication to achieve and outdo that divides the Greater from the Lesser, the Hardcore from the Casual; and of course, I am hardcore.

The Training Buddy, Paul

A flood of small fly-like enemies I nicknamed 'Beezebulb' started to flood the screen from all 4 directions. I hopped a little on my toes, in an attempt to get some blood rushing to the rest of my cold limb body. I skillfully shot and manoeuvred through the blinding mass of enemies. "Whoa," could be heard coming from the background as I made my way through them. I had caught the attention of the crowd as I felt all eyes on me; but I had no time to think, I had to keep my thoughts in place if I wanted to take home the prize. The biblical mantra of “The Spirit is willing, but Flesh is Weak” proved true as Greed drove my temptation to steal a glance at the coveted prize from the corner of my eye, causing me a life as a collective "aww" echoed in the background.

DJ EEBlank promised that it was not going to be easy, and he kept true to his word, pumping up the sounds and mixing up the beats as he score escalated. Surprisingly complimentary to the intensity of the game, his beats; only a little less surprising that realizing that your boss has a talent in DJ-ing perhaps.

DJ EEBlank aka The Boss

But he was up against more than a mere mortal; he was up against the Immortal himself, a Gaming Colossus conditioned to pounding sounds and resonant to the groove of club beats. The beats raised my adrenaline, as the screen filled with enemies and the intensity of the game multiplied. I drew circles around them, I had hit my Limit Break, I had reached my State of Zen, as my mind stopped thinking and pure reflex took over. 800,000... 900,000... 1,000,000, the escalating score was beautifully accompanied by the increasing volume of the "oohs" and "ahs" that followed each beautiful evasion I made.

Yes, this was Geometry Wars, an accurate representation of an era of gaming that has passed us. A era where games were visceral, gameplay concepts were easily grasped by any onlooker, no multipart goals, no endings, no fanciful story lines; just pure skill, reflex and motivation to beat the high score; and the experience came from the core gameplay alone. Not everyone in the room played the game, but everyone sure as hell could appreciate skill when they saw some it being displayed.

I was down to my last life, as the people around me watched with baited breath. There was a general air of tension in the room underneath all the hardcore beats. No one was trying to disrupt my focus anymore, all eyes were on the screen. I pulled my last bomb, clearing the overcrowded screen. I snaked around the screen, a Purple Square flew towards me as I blasted it and turned around quickly to avoid its flying remnants, but right into the path of a red magnet ship. My ship burst into light, the punishing "Game over" screen flashed for all to see, but yet, despite the display words of defeat, it was ultimately a victory. I looked down at the center of the screen to see my final score... 1,683,595.

Applause started ringing behind me, as the audience showed their appreciation for the exciting display of skill and showmanship that I had brought to them. I had done it, I had overcome distraction of bystanders, I had survived the intense sounds of DJ EEBlank, and most importantly, I had conquered Performance Anxiety, and completely put my fear of under-performing to rest. The show was over indeed, I turned around, waved and took a short but fitting bow.

The rest of the night was indulged in a premature celebration. Sure, there could have been any member of the public coming in to attempt to challenge my high score, and wrest the prize from my hands, but I couldn't care less, as I felt that I had already performed to the mark of my expectations, and probably a little blindly confident that 1.6 million was suffice to claim the prize. A galore of White Wine and Whisky Green Tea defined the celebratory mood in me.

Red Marks the Colour of Victory

Later in the night, DJ EEBlank came out of his DJ stand for a drink. Standing next to me at the bar counter, he said "Congratulations, I'm very proud of you," as he raised his wine glass to offer his cheers.

"I'm very proud of myself too," I said haughtily, as the rim of my wine glass clashed with his.

The cab ride home was one suspended in a semi-drunken stupor and a state of semi-disbelief, as I held had my arm around the Prize, joy running through my bones as I laughed to silently laughed to myself for pulling it off. Sure, it was great to win a Nintendo Wii out of nowhere, considering that it was an eventual purchase for me either way, and to have it drop like Manna from Heaven straight into my lap was pure bliss.

You would look this Maniacal too if you were Me.... just maybe not half as Drunk

But the real Prize in the night was the symbolic meaning behind the material prize.

"I like how you did it with so much class . Going in on your 1st try and immediately scoring 1.6 million, while you celebrated the rest of the night away waiting to take the prize home," I recalled Paul's congratulatory words.

Indeed, the Pride that came from the recognition of my excellence in my Passion, the Pride of knowing that I had managed to EARN the biggest material desire on my wish list purely realized by the results of my Passion, was the REAL prize behind it all.

The Pride behind the Prize of Passion... simply Priceless