Monday, March 19, 2012

80 INCH SCREEN OF SHAME

A few of you will recall our days playing Unreal Tournament on-line, and on our home networks on the Pentiums PCs with our keyboards and our mouse.

The game provided some fond memories. Unreal Tournament takes place in a time way into the future, where the favorite sport of the general population is a brutal death sport  It was my first fast action first person gamer.  

Every evening the game offered adrenaline pumping action, included at least one broken keyboard and give my mouse buttons always received a workout. Control in the game was the  W,A,S,and D keys for movement, the spacebar for jumping  and the left / right mouse buttons providing primary and secondary weapons fire.

I was hooked. There were hundreds of fan levels. One of my favorites was a bathroom, we would hide behind the soap dispenser, slide down pipes, and snipe from the toilet flush tank. The sure surge of pride when you made a head shot makes me grin. Of course, there was the putdown of receiving a head shot right out of the blue from some camper.

There have been a number of releases since the original. I have not played either of them. Recently I picked up Unreal Tournament 3 for the X-Box 360. It was in a discount bin, a wave of nostalgia overcame me. The though was the boys would like it as well. 

In fact, Unreal was no match for Halo 3. This afternoon, I asked my youngest if he wanted to play a shooter game with dad. His first thought was Halo 3. I proposed Unreal Tournament. He said sure dad sounds cool, if you like it.  I dusted off the case, inserted the DVD in the machine and waxed nostalgic for a while about the great weapons and the anti-gravity levels.

Conor, adept as he is with the controllers quickly, learned the maps leaving me in the dust. The mechanics of the game controllers are not as intuitive to me as they are to him. I wanted my keyboard and mouse. While he was fiddling with the controller and looking at the screen, I was desperately looking at the controller hoping for a response.  He kicked my ass, time and time again. The whole time he was on X-Box Live telling his buddies that he was owning his dad!

I have to dig out some of my old CD's and some PC's and take him on old school! Perhaps, than I might have a chance.

Most likely, the result will be the same.

Which reminds me, I had better take him to Dairy Queen. I have to learn to stop betting with this kid.



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