Written on 12-6-12.
The deal was that James would play golf with us (Bruce, Reilly and me) if I would play Halo with James against them later that day. It didn’t pan out, though, and that’s a good thing.
That evening, I texted Bruce to let them know we were “ready.” James and I practiced while we waited.
What I was hoping for was a gentle tutorial. I didn’t get it. James’s teaching style: Throw Dad to the wolves. Trial by fire. Live if you can for as long as you can. The average was less than 30 seconds each time.
How do I crouch down? Okay, now may I please practice crouching until I can do it without thinking? NO! How do I switch weapons? May I practice switching until it’s “automatic?” NO! That’s what it was like.
I whined like a spoiled three-year old. “Which button makes me run? Stop shooting me! This is no fun. Would you at least give me a chance?”
James would reply, “Reilly’s not going to give you a chance. How are you going to be ready unless you learn it this way?”
When James and I just played against each other, that was the worst. He could finish me in less than 30 seconds every time. It reminded me of the Office episode when Jim moved to another branch to get away from Pam since she was going to marry Roy. They played a shooter game (James, I’m sure knows the name of it.), and Jim was a rookie just like me. His character was stuck jumping helplessly against a wall when he was rudely blasted in the back of the head. Sigh. These games are so violent, but I wanted to honor my part of the deal.
It got a little better when we played online against other players. I could follow the other members of my team and help finish someone that a teammate had weakened. They could protect me a little. I could hide. This part was not as bad, but Bruce and Reilly never got online. We still haven’t played against them, but Christmas break is coming. I am sure to be humbled again soon.
The deal was that James would play golf with us (Bruce, Reilly and me) if I would play Halo with James against them later that day. It didn’t pan out, though, and that’s a good thing.
That evening, I texted Bruce to let them know we were “ready.” James and I practiced while we waited.
What I was hoping for was a gentle tutorial. I didn’t get it. James’s teaching style: Throw Dad to the wolves. Trial by fire. Live if you can for as long as you can. The average was less than 30 seconds each time.
How do I crouch down? Okay, now may I please practice crouching until I can do it without thinking? NO! How do I switch weapons? May I practice switching until it’s “automatic?” NO! That’s what it was like.
I whined like a spoiled three-year old. “Which button makes me run? Stop shooting me! This is no fun. Would you at least give me a chance?”
James would reply, “Reilly’s not going to give you a chance. How are you going to be ready unless you learn it this way?”
When James and I just played against each other, that was the worst. He could finish me in less than 30 seconds every time. It reminded me of the Office episode when Jim moved to another branch to get away from Pam since she was going to marry Roy. They played a shooter game (James, I’m sure knows the name of it.), and Jim was a rookie just like me. His character was stuck jumping helplessly against a wall when he was rudely blasted in the back of the head. Sigh. These games are so violent, but I wanted to honor my part of the deal.
It got a little better when we played online against other players. I could follow the other members of my team and help finish someone that a teammate had weakened. They could protect me a little. I could hide. This part was not as bad, but Bruce and Reilly never got online. We still haven’t played against them, but Christmas break is coming. I am sure to be humbled again soon.
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