CONFESSIONS

I have a confession to make.

I play a game.

It's an online first person shooter called "RETURN TO CASTLE WOLFENSTEIN" that was released in 2001, which a.) pretty much makes it an antique as far as games go and b.) pretty much makes me a complete tool for taking the time to look that up specifically for this blog.

This is not my confession.

For many, many years I went by the screen name Johnny The Face. I killed and was killed and people knew who I was.....I'd like to THINK people knew who I was. I didn't want to change my name because I thought it would kill my e-reputation.

So I kept this name for about five years, solely because I wanted people like Bernhard, Toy Soldier, Rambo Balboa and the closely related Ram Bro Ski to remember who I was and to respect my gaming abilities.

To give you an idea of what kind of warzone I'm used to being entangled with, I've taken the liberty of including some screen grabs.




I mostly like to play as a medic - it allows me to revive downed teammates as well as the ability to slowly regenerate health myself. You can see I've chosen to be a medic for the sake of realism in these stills - those are my feet hanging out of the bottom of the screen there - I've been shot while taking a screen grab.

You can also see on the left side of the screen one of my teammates avenging my death - shooting that axis evil-doer right in the back.

On the right side of the screen stands another teammate - he's just watching, unphased - he's been exposed to this sort of bloodshed before.

Also, what you're seeing here is called the "Forward Bunker". We've captured the flag and will now be spawning inside of here rather than down on the beach front. 1 POINT TO THE ALLIED TEAM! GO AMERICA!



Here you can see that one of our engineers has successfully blown apart the sea wall breach and a small team is trying to push on alone - up the ladder to find the war documents.

GO TEAM!



The Axis have reclaimed the forward bunker, forcing us to respawn at the beach. You can also see at the bottom there that Shaik Kaleem is shouting for some ammo - you can activate certain voice commands by hitting 'V' and then a series of numbers.

(For ammo, it would be "V-2-2" For MEDIC! it's "V-2-1")

Pepito Grillo is also shouting "Yee-haw!" That's a term that is strictly American. If you choose to be on the Axis team, your shout / celebrate turns into a menacing snicker.



Here's me. I've died again and am waiting for a fellow medic to come and revive me. (This is where I'd press "V-2-1". MEDIC!

Also, there's not much time left on the clock - 4:29 - BUT IT'S STILL ENOUGH TO WIN!!!








Game over.

We lose......again.



Now that you're a little more familiar with my situation, let me get back to my confession.

I was playing the other night - it was late, perhaps 3am.

I had just respawned in the forward bunker and was going to press on to kill all my opponents, capture the war documents, transmit them, save the day and take the victory for all of us.

As you all know, the journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step - and I couldn't take mine because some freaking new guy who hadn't even bothered to change his name from the default Wolfplayer was standing in the doorway with a big rocket launcer firing at anything that moved. (The rocket launcher is often considered a 'noob' weapon - it takes little accuracy and almost no skill).

I couldn't get out - I COULDN'T SAVE THE DAY - this frustrated me because I was on a blood lust of my own and I KNEW I was a much more skilled player than this guy. Who was he to be holding up my plan for domination?

So my journey COULDN'T begin thanks to this 'noob' as they say (I don't say this - I've always felt it was a little TOO gamery for my delicate tastes).

So Wolfplayer and his stupid rocket launcher are blocking the door and I can't talk to him because I don't know the voice command for "MOVE!" so I just keep bumping into him, hoping he gets the point.

Eventually he does.

He steps aside to reload and I walk past him just as an air raid team begins to fly in. If I stand where I am, I will die....so I try getting back into the forward bunker but this frigging NOOB is STANDING IN THE DOORWAY AGAIN with that big dumb noobite rocket launcher of his.

I don't have time to bump into him until he gets the point - I try once or twice, but he doesn't get it so I just plant a couple blasts between his eyes and shout, "F*ing NOOB!"

This is not a voice command.

This is me, alone, in my house, at 3am, talking to a kid probably a decade my junior, located who knows where that can't hear me.

This is my confession. I'd never used the word 'noob' before - not seriously. It had always been joking around (mostly with my wife concerning sex). But this time, I let it rip with true malice in my heart.

I wanted this guy to know that I thought he was a nooby - I suddenly felt inspired to tell people that I was no nooby - I was a pro.

A real killer.


I decided it was time to put a rest to Johnny The Face and start a new identity. Yes, the guys would forget Johnny The Face - he would fade from their memories, but someone else would take his place - someone greater, someone with FIVE YEARS OF WAR EXPERIENCE.

Someone who was a pretty f*ing good shot and wasn't afraid to break a few eggs to make an omelet.




NoobHunter was born.


Now when I log in, I usually say, 'I'm here to hunt some noobs - I hear they're pretty big game in these parts"

That's not a voice command, either.

I actually take the time to write that every time I log in and sometimes during gameplay if I feel I killed an especially noobious player.

I've embraced what I am.

I've embraced who I am.

And I hope this blog empowers anyone out there who is struggling with embracing their inner gamer.

I have.