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// Filed under: Video Games, Life on Tuesday June 12th 2007, 9:30 pm For the last three days, I have been unable to stop thinking about how much I want to play Mario Strikers Charged. That sounds retarded I know, but I played it for maybe a mere half an hour at Felix’s going-away party and am absolutely entranced. The ridiculously intuitive gameplay grabbed me by the metaphorical testicles from the first minute, and with only the most basic knowledge of the controls I was able to pass, charge and tackle like a maniac. Even a half an hour in, I could easily pick out the levels of gameplay and tactics that were shining through, and the merits of team selection and captaincy. It was such a beautiful thing. Everything about the game has a tangible impact. Even the most basic tackle, the simplest steal, shakes the screen with a grinding, slow-motion impact that makes you want to do it again and again and again. When you make a particularly great tackle, or you fire off a beautifully charged shot that the game thinks will probably cannon into the back of the net - the game time slows to a crawl, the interface vanishes and you get to see your play happen in deliciously slow motion, successful or not. You can feel the crunch as Wario puts his boot into the face of an unsuspecting Shy Guy. You can hold your breath as your shot careens towards the goal at crawl speed, and the whole room can groan in frustration as the goalie picks it effortlessly out of the air. Then it’s game time again, and you’re passing the ball around like a maniac and shooting and screaming and sighing and it’s so freaking seamless that it feels like every pass, every shot, every tackle is a part of your motherfucking soul. I’m not kidding. This game has crawled beneath my goddamn skin in less than half an hour. I don’t know what it is, but I am more excited about this game than I have been about any Wii game so far. It could be the thing - the thing other than sweet, sweet Super Smash Bros. Brawl - that actually rekindles my long-flagging interest in this console. I can’t wait to get a copy of my own and experiment with team selection, power-ups and special moves. I can’t wait to play the free online mode against my friends. I can’t wait for Simon to finish his motherfucking exams so we can beat the unholy shit out of this game without it distracting him. Study, you bastard. I know you’re reading this. Speaking of untidy segues, talking with Ross in the car on the way home from the Perthcomics meet last night really made me miss the days of the old RIFTS and Palladium games. Ross has just been hired to re-write Cyberpunk - not the genre, the actual game - had his own system published (the Awesome system), and is basically living the beautiful dream of the writer. Damn you, Ross. You and your stories, they make me miss the good days. The days when I would craft what were probably terrible stories, put on terrible Dwarven accents, and let Jimi critical-hit a motherfucking baelrog for ((6D6+8)*2)*2 motherfucking damage direct to its hit points* because goddamn that shit is just cool. I’d love to GM again. I love telling stories. I’m probably rusty as fuck now, but hey. I guess it’s just another thing to stack on top of the already overloaded pile of things-I-wish-I-had-the-goddamn-time-for. Sigh. *This actually happened. // 6 Comments
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Sonictail says:
June 13, 2007 at 5:24 am
lightguard says:
June 13, 2007 at 7:16 am
Tom says:
June 13, 2007 at 10:28 am
reds8n says:
June 13, 2007 at 10:34 pm
_Cronos_ says:
June 17, 2007 at 1:20 am
Jim(i) says:
June 23, 2007 at 3:19 am