Rush, Operation Metro, the BF3 beta, PS3. I died. I think I died 18 times, not getting a single kill that first round. Or maybe the 0-18 round came later when I was starting to do a little better. I died. There were people everywhere, shooting at me, but I didn’t see anyone. All I saw were little red crescents on the screen and then my hand when I hit the ground. My hand outstreched, pleading, blood-soaked. I died. My first lesson ws to understand the respawn system, and my conclusion was that I needed to be recon so I would get a spawn beacon. I held it tight to my chest, running across the field. It is possible that I died a hundred times before I got my first kill.
It was such a pretty, green park. Lush, with small steps and stone walls. Maybe that was why I persisted, so that I would one day see the other side of it, instead of dying in my deployment and then spawning in a tunnel somewhere where my hand would plead in the lonely darkness. Maybe it was the park. Maybe it was the same irrational mechanism that make people stay in destructive relationships – the idea that only the one who hurt you can set things right, by taking back the hurtful words and assuring you of their love.
I would never stay with a man who made me feel half as bad as I felt in that park. But I stayed with Battlefield. I stayed until I, humiliated and abused beyond all reason finally got those three magic words. You know.
”ENEMY KILLED 100”
It was probably the best make up sex I ever had. From that moment it was me and Battlefield foreverandeverandever. Like I <3 bf3 carved into the living room table.
There was just one problem. A small gnawing worry. One kill does not a ratio make, and I was horribly bad at shooting people.
And 99% of the other players have played these kinds of games for at least half their lives, I’m sure. Of the million players now populating the servers I would estimate the number who hasn't played through the whole genre of fps-games to amount to about 7 badly raised eleven-year olds and me.
I decided to stay with Battlefield, to adapt or die. Or rather die trying to adapt. And this is my blog about loving Battlefield 3, always trying to do better and sometimes succeeding.