As obsessed with theology as I am, religion is not my only interest. Now that the scourges of finals and COL Junior Comps took their tolls and subsided at last, I finally get a portion of my sanity back. To make up for the occasional missed column here-and-there, and to make clear that I am actually not a hyper-religious extremist/zealot/militant/ascetic/all of the above, I am devoting a series to things deliberately outside religion.
I write to discuss one of the most well-known, well-reviewed, and yet most-maligned video games of the past few years. People express their beliefs to me that it is, in fact, not a game, too free-form, a step backwards from its predecessors, the worst game ever, and something so bad that no thinking person would ever dream of stealing it.
One of the highlights of my last Spring Break, the subject in question is the (in)famous Super Smash Bros. Brawl.
The sheer mention of it will cause others to either recoil in disgust or to have their eyes light up. Many in a competitive mindset will lapse into a two-to-five minute discussion about Meta Knight and how “broken” he is. The only thing discussions on that topic prove to me is the human need to complain.
Meta Knight’s supposed sheer power is one reason why this game is often maligned, but this is largely because people in general—myself included—prefer to gripe about the circumstances rather than think about them.
Even if any fighter were flawless, a human player controls him/her/it, and all humans are imperfect and have weaknesses. Rather than realize this fact, and thinking of ways to somehow adapt to the player as opposed to adapting to Meta Knight (who’s the one in power, must I ask? Hint: think of a master-slave relationship), people choose to take up the aforementioned mindset.
I often find myself losing to the characters not with the high tier rankings (or the ones who my host deems the most powerful), but instead the ones which I do not know well enough, and for whom I have not developed a sound strategy. Competitive or not, player would do well to learn that “mind over matter” applies to all things concerning video games.
Another gripe I often hear is that it is not a game because it is not befitting for tournament play, with vexations such as random tripping at unforeseeable instances. Above all, no game should be judged primarily for its competitive quality, but for its being as a whole.
I play games to have fun. If I want to compete, then I’ll do an academic activity with the Wii console nowhere in sight. Concerning Smash Bros., it is only one or two wins (or not consistently last place) that will ensure that I still have an ego once I turn off the console. I’m not for the money or the glory.
There’s only so much that two hammer-clad Eskimos can do in the temperate climate of Yoshi’s Island (with an enemy Samus). The sheer constancy—monotony, I would say—of a no-items tournament setting can lead some to quote Hegel, Hume, and Homer Simpson out loud (once Spartan war cries get banned for the rest of the tournament).
There was certainly a reason that the residents of my house last year always spoke of arranging a tournament but never actually did it. We saw the console as a means community time, not for intense competition, and I think that the majority of my friends at Wesleyan and elsewhere hold this mindset.
By and large the games I have seen that are most consistently popular as fun games have a heavy randomizing aspect. It is no mistake that Mario Kart is a far more renowned name than Smash Bros is, and its not just because one is older than the other. Mario Kart is also far, far more renowned than its sister series F-Zero, without any items or “silly gimmicks”.
Controlling every single variable results in a mentally taxing process that actually reduces fun in many respects. I cannot think of a single person who would be willing to play a tabletop role-playing game without dice. For the true experience of any Smash Bros. game, I keep all items turned on, and detach the whole issue of competition from it. It is not only the most capable method of having fun in the game, but also the most capable of creating funny moments and lasting memories.
I know I am not the only one of this opinion, though it is possible to have fun without items—if you’re talking about Plato, Sartre and eliminating world poverty during most of the matches, and in complete sentences.
Ultimately I find that those who dislike Brawl as the worst iteration of the Smash Bros. series only dislike its quality of no-items stock matches. However, there really is so much more—for which they are not judging anything. In its full spectrum, it really has the unmatched “wow!” factor that all casual gamers (and non-gamers) are fully enchanted by.
I plan on playing some five-odd coin matches with my brother when he gets home—items on, of course. Just for laughs, I’ll play the Ice Climbers, like I did in my first tournament. We won’t let any competitive ruleset or tier list get in my way of enjoying myself when we do that.