Excessive νdity – 08.11.09

As expected, Blazblue has taken over my life. Hardly a day goes by without a visit to the 13th hierarchical kingdom of Kagutsuchi, whether for a half hour beat down courtesy of Pkadden or an extended training mode session to practice my abysmal execution. Hell, even story mode sees play. Say what you will about the throw mechanics, burst system, jump frames or lack of variation in character strategies, the game has captured my attention as few before.

The most common complaint leveled against BB is invariably its balance issues, which, while often overstated, are undeniably present. I barely understand Arakune and could not play him if my life depended on it, but even I get how terrible it must be for Tager to face down the Crimson Swarm. Ara, nu, Rachel and, to a slightly lesser extent, Jin rule the roost, if general opinion and SBO qualification counts are any indication. With this in mind, and with no small trepidation, I must admit playing nu.

Now, before punching me in the face, let it be known that my choice was made upon watching the first videos of her unlocking, before her placement on the “Cosmic T-Rex” tier was known. Something about her Zone of the Enders-inspired design and Dizzy-reminiscent gameplay style sealed the deal before I had a chance to protest. Really, corny as it sounds, she chose me.

This is not to say nu never gives me pause. She’s rarely my first choice, and often does not make an appearance at all, given her ability to make many opponents leave lobbies, rage-quit mid-match and punch walls (true story). This, despite the fact that I do not even play her remotely well; my poor reflexes and tendency to fall back on simple, predictable tactics when under pressure are particularly large obstacles to advancing. However, even my meager skill with the phantom swords is enough to overcome seemingly competent players online.

The internet, admittedly a place no sane person should ever go, tells me I should be ashamed for playing such a “cheap,” “over-powered,” character. Apparently, being “too easy to learn” is a cardinal sin and “scrubs” are ruining the game with her. (Then again, Jin, Hakumen, Noel and Arakune are supposedly doing the same thing, so at least she is in good company.) Random, anonymous strangers have deemed the damage output too high, her mobility too good and her zoning too impenetrable given her escape options. Questionable credentials aside, they are probably right.

I feel guilty playing nu. Even knowing that apologizing for character choice is unnecessary and counter-productive, it bothers me in a way that no amount of Playing To Win can alleviate. Being at such a serious disadvantage at 2/3 of a screen is a foreign concept to most players and I do not always push that strength for fear of driving them away (pun intended). No one likes feeling powerless and being safely zoned from so far is the fastest way to make that happen. Though characters like Dhalsim are also most comfortable in similar positions, they cannot pressure as effectively or punish a mistake for 40%+.

In the grand scheme of top-tier characters, there are certainly more dominating, arguably broken fighters that were still accepted by their communities: 3rd Strike Chun, #Reload Eddie, SFIV Sagat, MvC2 Magneto/Psylocke/Sentinel, etc. Yet in my endless quest to improve, there is a strong desire for legitimacy and the respect of my opponents. I do not want to receive messages saying “I lost to nu, not to you” or to leave a trail of ill will for my friend’s PSN account (who is kind enough to let me play).

Perhaps to compensate, my two sub characters are currently Hakumen and Tager, arguably the worst in the game. I greatly enjoy their simple combos and punishing range, surprising unsuspecting opponents with sudden bursts of activity. Yet, as much fun as hitting 360 grabs and super counters is, it feels like time that could be better spent with nu practicing throw-dash timing and Tiger Knee Crescent Sabers.

The inevitable, and greatly anticipated, patch/revision/sequel is sure to tone down my main squeeze, perhaps even to the point of respectability, or at least fewer snide remarks. Coupled with buffs for the less capable members of the cast and a smaller, more dedicated player base that comes with iterating a fighting game, this will probably alleviate my tier shame. Hopefully. However, I really just need to get over the guilt; it is just another obstacle to getting better. Whatever changes Arc System Works deem fit, I will keep playing nu, only maybe less frequently than I should.

Pros’ Woes – 06.29.09

Shortly after his big win at the SBO quals, Live On 3 took a few minutes to talk with Combofiend about the event. At one point, DJ Wheat referred to him as a pro fighting gamer, a description that Peter took issue with, clarifying that he is not paid to play. Street Fighter is his hobby, his passion, but it is not how he makes a living.

To hear some people talk, fighting games should look to more popular competitive endeavors for direction. First-person shooters tend to be a prime example, perhaps due to the shared “e-sport” designation. Counter-Strike, Quake and Halo tournaments are often large-scale events, complete with live coverage, professional players and corporate sponsors. The latter are particularly important as large monetary incentives ensure that the stakes are high and the tension is real; this forces more cut-throat competition and ostensibly better performances. Putting people’s livelihoods on the line is a surefire way to create hype.

Interest in fighters has dropped off severely since their heyday in the early to mid 90s and it is a safe bet that most fans would like to see some of that popularity recaptured. However, I have to question whether big money is really the best way to go about increasing attention. The only reason the genre survives to this day is love of the game; money matches and cash prizes are a large part of the scene, but they are not la raison d’être. Not to say that is the case with FPSes, but I feel as though the fighting game scene, though small, does a great job of sustaining itself on the dedication of the community. Evo is not a monetized event, it exists and thrives solely because people like Seth Killian, Joey Cuellar and the Cannon brothers work to create a place for enthusiasts can come together and geek out.

It would be a real shame to lose that sense of community by introducing threats to players’ living wages. There is enough pressure to represent yourself and your character as it is, why add the stress of fulfilling an endorsement? Money introduces a greater incentive to hide information and strategies, stifling growth of the general knowledge base and further scaring off new players. Friendly rivalries would turn bitter. Dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria.

I understand the draw of expanding the genre to the point where professionals can exist; hell, at times it sounds like a dream job. Keeping the games we love healthy obviously requires funding on top of all the commitment. I just hope that this current fighter resurgence and push to make them more mainstream does not sacrifice some of the things that make the scene so great.

Polynesian Warrior - 07.22.09

My family chooses the worst times to take vacations, insofar as there is a bad time to spend two weeks in Hawaii. I really should not complain, but this is a fighting game blog, so let's get on with it.

Our flight departed two days after the greatly anticipated release of Blazblue and between shipping delays and a full day of work/travel, I had only a couple of hours to play it with Pkadden before leaving for the islands. That brief taste made the ensuing wait even more difficult than the past few months have been; even while relaxing on idyllic beaches I could not help but pine for Arakune's gooey embrace. STSD has been rather Street Fighter centric thus far, but Guilty Gear X2 was my first love and Arc System Works' follow-up had induced a fair amount of frothing demand. Expect to see more about BB soon, if I can tear myself away from it long enough to post. Only two days back and the game has already consumed most of my free time.

Compounding the withdrawal was my lack of access to Evo coverage. I was ready to lose an entire weekend watching the stream, but for some reason never bothered to check the actual tournament dates, assuming it to be sometime in August. Consequently, I spent most of the 17th - 19th draining my phone's battery constantly refreshing the site brackets that never updated. Our hotel's crappy connection, coupled with the strain of several thousand other viewers, meant that I only got to watch slideshows of two SFIV matches. In some cruel twist of fate, the live chat worked fine, simultaneously lowering the IQ of all involved and giving no useful information about the event. While not representative of the community as a whole, it was a sad display nonetheless.

The little information that came through felt disjointed, as when semi-final brackets were posted and many of the big names I expected were nowhere to be found. Somehow I ended up on Twitter of all places, as the players' and official Evo feeds were the most consistent source of news to be found, especially towards the end. A forum may have yielded more updates but venturing into SRK for something like this was not terribly appealing.

Miraculously, my flight home landed in time to catch the great Daigo vs Justin grand finals, a much better fight than their contest at GameStop tournament. Is it just me or has Daigo improved considerably of late? I have not been following much Japanese SFIV since the game was released on console, but his Ryu seemed even more impressive than memory tells. The way he moved was simply incredible; it was like watching Poongko wreck some poor fool, but less predictably aggressive and one-sided. Frequent focuses, sloppy but unpunished footsies and, of course, psychic dragon punches made for a veritable whirling dervish of Shoto beat down. That Justin drew out the set as long as he did is quite a feat, but even with the all the whiffed low forwards and narrow comebacks, it was clear the Beast was going to win.

Despite the somewhat foregone conclusion, it was difficult deciding who to root for. On one hand I like the idea of Daigo as this completely dominating, though not unbeatable, figure that everyone is gunning for, it makes for great drama. On the other, America has really stepped up its level of play and deserves recognition and respect. Beating the Japanese would do a lot for the genre's hype and popularity, so here's hoping for a great SBO showing.

combos are confusing

I've never really been good at comboing. The timing in older capcom and SNK fighters is so strict I could never do the more complex combos, nor try to create my own. capcom's Vs. series is too friggin' crazy for me to deal with.
But I played so much Guilty Gear that I got a pretty good handle on its combo system, and over the years was able to develop combos that worked (enough for me, anyway).

In contrast, one of my good friends is always thinking about combos when he plays fighters. He's always trying to link something new together, testing what will work. I pick stuff up as I play, but this guy is really into it.

I was trying to figure out how to better play Ragna today, and I tried a variation of a combo I had been doing. To my delight, it worked! A quick scan of Dustloop showed me that of course what I did worked, but I was doing it the stupid way for idiots with more hits but less actual damage.

Hell, it only served to remind me that I used to do Baiken's dustloop beginning with a 2k. When I was practicing the night before a tournamet, I finally figured out the 2K I thought was totally awesome was actually prorating massively and cutting the damage roughly in half.

I still don't think I'm that good with combos.

Who is your main?

Years ago in the back of Playstation Magazine, the secrets section described how to unlock Testament, Baiken, and Justice in the original Guilty Gear. They went on to describe Baiken as being possibly the first handicapped character in a fighting game, as she is one-eyed and one-armed.
I myself lack vision in one eye, and I felt that at some point in time I would have to learn Baiken.
We'll guesstimate heavily and say maybe 5 years later I started playing Guilty Gear X2. Baiken was the first character I used. I had to. We had an eyeless bond.
And together with Baiken I learned how to guard-cancel. I learned how to combo. I learned how to dustloop.

And springing from that (particularly from learning how to combo, which I didn't really understand back when I used to play Street Fighter II with my brother), I learned the basics of the rest of the cast. And then I branched out into other fighting games.
But if the blame has to go somewhere, it is Baiken.

Blazblue came out recently, and I feel lost. Three of my good friends are playing it as well, but the big difference between us at this point is that they all have mains. jcdenton is going to play Nu, and he's going to be crazy-good at it. Twinkiebomb (perhaps of note to SFIV players) took to Noel so quickly I'm already afraid for the next time we play together. And a guy I know who never got into Guilty Gear seems pretty determined to learn Taokaka.
And I'm floating, confused.

Fighting monogamy, indeed.

Further Misadventures In Recruiting: “They still make Street Fighter?” – 06.24.09

“Do you have Street Fighter?” The conversation floated into my room from yet another group of people I did not know. For once, the revolving door of strangers appeared to be yielding fighting game dividends. A few more name-drops of the franchise later, one of my roommates called me in to partake. “He’ll kick your ass,” he said, pointing to me.

Silently I hung my head in dismay; this was possibly the worst thing he could have said. Presumably this new challenger was not that great, but assessing his skill would be a lot harder if he got scared off and did not even attempt to play. However, this turned out not to be an issue, as he was looking to play a drinking game (one shot per game lost) and decided on SF because “It goes quickly.”

With this in mind, I bowed out and let the rest of the party go on button mashing their way to inebriation. Amusingly, a fair number of the matches resembled this Portuguese TV show, flailing Blankas and all. Fights dragged on, especially once I told them how to perform the perennial scrub favorite electricity. After about 20 minutes, I was challenged and barely eked out a victory on a Dualshock 3; the combination of erratic opponents and pad execution made matches closer than they probably should have been. My roommate ended up being my easiest match, interestingly enough; even though he had no trouble beating everyone else, he knows just enough about the game to be predictable and intimidated.

Shortly thereafter it was clear that interest and sobriety were waning. Smash came out, only to be replaced by Tiger Woods PGA 2007, then Wii Sports, arguably following the deterioration of motor skills. The highlight of the evening occurred when one person noticed the “arcade setup” under the TV and gave me an un-ironic high five; I hoped his amazement and compliments were signs that he too enjoyed fight sticks, but alas, this was not the case. Once again, an evening that began with such possibility ended in disappointment, though it was naïve to believe it would turn out otherwise. Back to the laggy online jungle for me.

Fighting Monogamy – 06.15.09

Listening to top players talk about how they became so good can become somewhat repetitive: practice, then practice some more, then continue practicing. From the sound of it, champions know their games inside and out, to the point where execution and technical knowledge become nearly irrelevant. Instead, matches are battles of wills, nerves and minds, each coming down to a few key moments where one player finds/forces an opening and deals massive damage. Case in point: Kokujin is clearly no slouch, yet guessing incorrectly against Makoto is a fatal mistake.

However, this level of ability comes at a price. Pyrolee is a great SFIII player, but on the first Denjin Video podcast he mentions that he has no interest in other fighting games, or even versions of the game not played on a physical CPS3 board. He has honed his skill to the point of inflexibility; playing anything other than 3S under ideal arcade conditions is a non-starter. Mike can engage opponents incredibly well on his terms, but even small deviations will greatly affect the quality of play.

To be fair, he could still annihilate me blindfolded, with one arm tied behind his back, on a Dreamcast pad. On the other hand, I think the necessity for this level of devotion is somewhat detrimental.

Unless you’re Alex Valle or Justin Wong, playing a fighting game well is a monogamous affair. Its vaunted depth is as much a liability as it is an asset; the sheer number of systems and variables to learn in any given fighter demand years of undivided attention. That the classics hold up so well under such scrutiny is amazing, but it makes the skill divide rather steep. To compete in tournaments means, at the very least, knowing locations of invisible boxes, the durations of various stun states, inscrutable priority values, movement arcs, spacing, recovery and a million other things that govern gameplay. Without an intimate understanding of your character and how they stack up against the rest of the cast, you do not stand much of a chance.

Part of the problem is that fighting games, while strategy intensive, are not like Chess; you cannot explain the rules to a new player and reasonably expect them to read the board. Understanding how to counter an opponent in Guilty Gear requires far more than merely extrapolating from piece positions in front of you. The actual backbone of Street Fighter is largely invisible; images of two brawlers interacting rarely represent the framework of colliding rectangles and number crunching that rule the true game.

In the end, there is probably too much information at work for sprites or models to convey without severe over-stimulation. Knowledge of these values and behaviors is only gleaned from countless hours spent with the game. When one sixtieth of a second can spell the difference between victory and defeat, determined players will always train themselves to react perfectly to every possible situation; only then is it possible to match wits at a tournament level. It is simply unfortunate that it takes so much effort to and creates so specific a skill set.

I am sure many people are willing to tell me that spending time is the point, that the drive to improve is what separates “casual” from “serious” players. This argument has merit, but at some point it must be worth picking up a new game rather than practicing even more for increasingly diminished returns. If people were willing to branch out more instead of dedicating themselves to absolute perfection in one area, I think the genre would be in a better place today: more players crossing between communities, sharing play-styles and strategies to give worn-out titles new life, increasing sales and lowering the entry barrier due to weaker, but more general, skills.

However, this mentality will never take hold. The desire to be number one is especially ingrained these games and their fans; as long as someone can gain an edge by slowly chipping away at the frame data, they will. Ultimately, without the passion and dedication of hardcore players though the arcade death spiral, it is doubtful the genre would be even a shadow of what it is today.