WSUCougar
10-13-2005, 04:54 PM
This is going to be a long post, so be forewarned.
“Cheating” as a concept has bounced around in my head for a long time, but I’ve never felt particularly inclined to put my thoughts on it into print until now. What prompted this is the cheating issue(s) with regard to multiplayer FOF. As most of you realize these topics have been discussed and thence beaten to death at FOFC.
Let me first say that I’m not trying to pontificate or make myself out like a saint. Nope. I’m just exploring the subject matter. An abbreviated version of my thesis is “I don’t get it.” Better still would be to state “I can’t relate.”
So I want to address the subject of cheating, but to do I must first establish myself in the context of competition and winning.
I have always been a gamer, at least as far back as I can remember. Starting out simple (Game of Life, Sorry, Uncle Wiggly, etc.), working my way up in terms of complexity (Stratego, Risk, Scrabble, etc.), and then getting serious (wargames and APBA baseball), and ultimately heavy into computer games and text sims. This still holds true today. Rare is the occasion that I’m not willing to play a game, whatever it might be. My wife knows this, my friends and family know this, and I think most of FOFC knows this.
At the root of this is the fact that I am ultra-competitive. It’s buried in my DNA somewhere. I was a pretty good athlete in my younger days, but I had a temper that often exploded when the competitive juices started flowing. That combination was like a chemical reaction at times, and here’s why. Playing a team sport, I hated getting dicked on something…bad call, unfair advantage, poor sportsmanship, whatever…and I’d pop off about it because it was ruining my concept of what, in my mind, we were competing for. The essence of competition. It’s a battle of sorts, my/our skill against yours. My/our strategy against yours. Don’t mess with the formula which determines who wins and loses.
But it isn’t just about winning or losing. I love to win, of course, but I don’t mind losing, either. Truly, I feel that I am a gracious loser, and equally so a gracious winner. What galls me to no end, however, is losing for tainted reasons…basically when the essence of competition has been lost. A ref blows a call (see: Denkinger, Don), or a team wins due to a fluke or luck (see: Dame, Notre), or somebody cheats.
Two real-life examples to cite:
The first involves this boardgame called Speed Circuit. A long time ago (let’s say around 25 years ago), me and some friends were playing this game. It’s a race car game in which you plot your use of acceleration, brakes, tire usage, etc., against the limitations of a race course like Monza. You get X points to build your car’s capabilities at the beginning, then apply those ratings each turn of the race. Well, the bottom line was that we caught my friend Dave cheating, red-handed. He was continually erasing and adjusting his starting ratings so his car could take advantage of the course as necessary. He fessed up immediately, and his response was basically along the lines of, “It’s just a game, no biggie.”
Well, horror of frikkin’ horrors to me! Game over. Now, 25 years later, this guy is one of my very best friends in the world. We were locker partners in junior high and high school, and roomed together two years in college. He was the Best Man at my wedding. We are ultra-compatible in every way, except when it comes to games. TO THIS DAY I will only play a game with him where I know he can’t cheat at it. And I love this guy like a brother, and I know he’d take the proverbial bullet for me. Yet he permanently wrecked that essence of competition for me, in that particular way.
Petty on my part? You might say that. But what I’m getting at is that this is not a conscience thought process for me. On some weird level, I value the pure essence of competition that much. And I’m not saying I’m better than anyone who doesn’t feel that way…it’s just that cheating or otherwise impinging on the competition in that manner destroys the point of the exercise. Why play a game if you’re going to cheat to win? What is the point? We’re not matching wits or skills at that point…we’re matching the ability to cheat well. We’re not playing Speed Circuit, we’re playing Cheater.
Some might counter with a win-at-any-costs response. Well, that isn’t me. This isn’t a battle for survival. And that’s where I lose the ability to relate to cheaters. I hear suggestions or stories about how, in multiplayer FOF, you can do XYZ and thus gain so-and-so an edge by manipulating the program and/or league rules. I just read those and sort of scratch my head. Why would you want to do that? Are you playing so much for the adulation inherent in winning, even if the victory is soured in your heart of hearts by the knowledge that you achieved it only by cheating? Is there really a sense of accomplishment if you cheat and win?
I’m not saying I’m above cheating. I’m saying I don’t see the value in it.
The second real-life example is a foot race. In high school, I was a sprinter on the track team and acknowledged by my friends as clearly the fastest of the group. A couple years later, while away at college (WSU), a friend (who was just as competitive as me and who had a ton of dedication to personal goals) from UW decided to challenge me to a foot race over the summer, which was several months away. At the time, it was considered something of a joke, since he’d never had a prayer catching me in high school. Yet he kept after me, to the point where the bravado had to be taken seriously. So the race was on. As summer neared, he said we should race on the high school track (some kind of finely crushed rock surface) but made it clear that only tennis shoes were allowed. Okay, fine. Fast forward to summer, and the race day. I show up in flat-soled tennis shoes, and he shows up sporting this new pair of super-duper running shoes with these killer soles. Plus he’s got this shit-eating grin on his face. Turns out he’d been training like a madman for this race to boot. I wasn’t happy about the shoes, but we went ahead and ran anyway. And I slipped badly at the start, just as he’d intended, while he started clean. In 40 yards that’s all he needed. I caught him at the finish but the race was deemed a tie by the two friends who witnessed it. And I’ve never heard the end of it. I demanded an immediate re-race on the grass, no shoes, and beat him by three lengths, but that didn’t matter. To this day, he asks me how my 40 time is. And I just smirk back at him. He cheated. Didn’t he?
I’m not sure where I’m going with this thread, really. I guess I’d like for someone to explain, outside of the angry environment of an accusatory thread, where you’re coming from if you don’t feel the way I do.
Sorry for the novel.
“Cheating” as a concept has bounced around in my head for a long time, but I’ve never felt particularly inclined to put my thoughts on it into print until now. What prompted this is the cheating issue(s) with regard to multiplayer FOF. As most of you realize these topics have been discussed and thence beaten to death at FOFC.
Let me first say that I’m not trying to pontificate or make myself out like a saint. Nope. I’m just exploring the subject matter. An abbreviated version of my thesis is “I don’t get it.” Better still would be to state “I can’t relate.”
So I want to address the subject of cheating, but to do I must first establish myself in the context of competition and winning.
I have always been a gamer, at least as far back as I can remember. Starting out simple (Game of Life, Sorry, Uncle Wiggly, etc.), working my way up in terms of complexity (Stratego, Risk, Scrabble, etc.), and then getting serious (wargames and APBA baseball), and ultimately heavy into computer games and text sims. This still holds true today. Rare is the occasion that I’m not willing to play a game, whatever it might be. My wife knows this, my friends and family know this, and I think most of FOFC knows this.
At the root of this is the fact that I am ultra-competitive. It’s buried in my DNA somewhere. I was a pretty good athlete in my younger days, but I had a temper that often exploded when the competitive juices started flowing. That combination was like a chemical reaction at times, and here’s why. Playing a team sport, I hated getting dicked on something…bad call, unfair advantage, poor sportsmanship, whatever…and I’d pop off about it because it was ruining my concept of what, in my mind, we were competing for. The essence of competition. It’s a battle of sorts, my/our skill against yours. My/our strategy against yours. Don’t mess with the formula which determines who wins and loses.
But it isn’t just about winning or losing. I love to win, of course, but I don’t mind losing, either. Truly, I feel that I am a gracious loser, and equally so a gracious winner. What galls me to no end, however, is losing for tainted reasons…basically when the essence of competition has been lost. A ref blows a call (see: Denkinger, Don), or a team wins due to a fluke or luck (see: Dame, Notre), or somebody cheats.
Two real-life examples to cite:
The first involves this boardgame called Speed Circuit. A long time ago (let’s say around 25 years ago), me and some friends were playing this game. It’s a race car game in which you plot your use of acceleration, brakes, tire usage, etc., against the limitations of a race course like Monza. You get X points to build your car’s capabilities at the beginning, then apply those ratings each turn of the race. Well, the bottom line was that we caught my friend Dave cheating, red-handed. He was continually erasing and adjusting his starting ratings so his car could take advantage of the course as necessary. He fessed up immediately, and his response was basically along the lines of, “It’s just a game, no biggie.”
Well, horror of frikkin’ horrors to me! Game over. Now, 25 years later, this guy is one of my very best friends in the world. We were locker partners in junior high and high school, and roomed together two years in college. He was the Best Man at my wedding. We are ultra-compatible in every way, except when it comes to games. TO THIS DAY I will only play a game with him where I know he can’t cheat at it. And I love this guy like a brother, and I know he’d take the proverbial bullet for me. Yet he permanently wrecked that essence of competition for me, in that particular way.
Petty on my part? You might say that. But what I’m getting at is that this is not a conscience thought process for me. On some weird level, I value the pure essence of competition that much. And I’m not saying I’m better than anyone who doesn’t feel that way…it’s just that cheating or otherwise impinging on the competition in that manner destroys the point of the exercise. Why play a game if you’re going to cheat to win? What is the point? We’re not matching wits or skills at that point…we’re matching the ability to cheat well. We’re not playing Speed Circuit, we’re playing Cheater.
Some might counter with a win-at-any-costs response. Well, that isn’t me. This isn’t a battle for survival. And that’s where I lose the ability to relate to cheaters. I hear suggestions or stories about how, in multiplayer FOF, you can do XYZ and thus gain so-and-so an edge by manipulating the program and/or league rules. I just read those and sort of scratch my head. Why would you want to do that? Are you playing so much for the adulation inherent in winning, even if the victory is soured in your heart of hearts by the knowledge that you achieved it only by cheating? Is there really a sense of accomplishment if you cheat and win?
I’m not saying I’m above cheating. I’m saying I don’t see the value in it.
The second real-life example is a foot race. In high school, I was a sprinter on the track team and acknowledged by my friends as clearly the fastest of the group. A couple years later, while away at college (WSU), a friend (who was just as competitive as me and who had a ton of dedication to personal goals) from UW decided to challenge me to a foot race over the summer, which was several months away. At the time, it was considered something of a joke, since he’d never had a prayer catching me in high school. Yet he kept after me, to the point where the bravado had to be taken seriously. So the race was on. As summer neared, he said we should race on the high school track (some kind of finely crushed rock surface) but made it clear that only tennis shoes were allowed. Okay, fine. Fast forward to summer, and the race day. I show up in flat-soled tennis shoes, and he shows up sporting this new pair of super-duper running shoes with these killer soles. Plus he’s got this shit-eating grin on his face. Turns out he’d been training like a madman for this race to boot. I wasn’t happy about the shoes, but we went ahead and ran anyway. And I slipped badly at the start, just as he’d intended, while he started clean. In 40 yards that’s all he needed. I caught him at the finish but the race was deemed a tie by the two friends who witnessed it. And I’ve never heard the end of it. I demanded an immediate re-race on the grass, no shoes, and beat him by three lengths, but that didn’t matter. To this day, he asks me how my 40 time is. And I just smirk back at him. He cheated. Didn’t he?
I’m not sure where I’m going with this thread, really. I guess I’d like for someone to explain, outside of the angry environment of an accusatory thread, where you’re coming from if you don’t feel the way I do.
Sorry for the novel.