Does Last Light feel less inspired by virtue of breaking from the comfortable shores of its origin in the novel, or does its sheer sequel-ness drag it down?    Did it all used to be fresh and shiny?

In a well-established world where the punishing actuality of a post-apocalypse provides little room for changes in scenery, the atmosphere is bound to lose a bit of its punch.  Had 4A Games reached into left field for the sake of variety it would have been very disappointing – I definitely didn’t want any betrayals of the fiction just for a big set piece.  But 2033 just did such a damn fine job of soaking the original in happenstance that the net effect is a watering down.

The effect is not unlike Fallout 3 with New Vegas: the grey desert became sand paper on the eyes.

Like the inescapable reality of the Metro inhabitants, it’s just not fair.  It’s not fair that Last Light can feature levels every bit as compelling as before but with a handicapped effect;

It’s not fair that improved game mechanics actually detract from the experience this time around.  Yes, I enjoyed my Metro bleakness a bit more when the gameplay was a little sloppier, more off the cuff.  Something about the clumsy controls made me think I actually was drunk on vodka, just like everyone else in the game.  There’s a sense of immersion lost when a game grows up, reaches out to expand its audience, and in the process sheds some of its personality.  2033′s rough edges somehow made it feel like it played like a Russian game.   That was really cool.

2033 was full subtitled, just like watching a foreign film. Last Light has certain sequences though that are only dubbed, No Russian. Why?

The muddled controls played directly into the captivating hand/gun animations within the first person format.  Reloads felt slipshod, ladders were climbed frantically, knife slashes executed erratically.  Everything flowed with a chaotic dynamism that was convincing in the same manner of Mirror’s Edge or Bioshock – it made fantastic use of the FPS perspective.

Chalk it up to Artyom being a lot more experienced now, but he’s a little too proficient in his gunplay.  He glides across the dark environments with such ease that a bit of the vulnerability is lost.  It’s too clean, despite the putrid environments.

On paper the numerous stealth sequences are a welcome addition to mix up the gameplay.  But brain dead enemies are the only reason they work, nixing the possibility for genuine tension.  Frankly, it plays a bit too closely to more conventional FPS’s that want to shake in some variation without making any pacing sacrifices or risking player frustration.

It’s hard to tell, but weapon recoil seems to be more forgiving. Otherwise the guns are just as makeshift-Russian.

The only area that could have used additional polish is the final couple hours.  Whether it was a time crunch or lack of creativity, the final moments don’t stick with me when I go to bed like 2033’s final decision did.  The narrative tension rackets up but it doesn’t resonate.  Perhaps this is where that distance with the original novel hurts Metro?

Something was lost when Last Light decided to be a more all-around complete game, a more satisfying experience.  Overall it’s a gut twisting game, one that shouldn’t worry so much about living up to pre-conceived notions about how an FPS should handle.  Other franchises in a similar situation should take note – just say no to CoD proclivities.

Imagine an action movie series long past its due – think 15^th iteration.  That’s Blood Dragon.  The harried protagonist is now more machine than man, his effects are neon embodiments of instant death, his lame sentimentality for the main friend-turned-villain forever survives even the silliest encounters.

Many of the models will be familiar to Far Cry 3 players – except they’re cyber versions!

Ubisoft Montreal was told they have 6 months to whip up whatever they want, Far Cry style.  They earned the benefit of the doubt – FC3 did very well, critically and commercially.  Even still, Ubisoft is a Tier 1 publisher and they tend to treat their flagship series conservatively.

But there wasn’t a better route to take – Blood Dragon ultimately makes much better use of the Dunia Engine 2.  Imagine if conventional wisdom prevailed and a series of side missions were tacked on.  Irrespective of the quality of the writing, it would have merely been conceived of as another drop in the bucket.  With so much stuff staring the player in the face, it’s hard to construe another couple story arcs as meaningful in the grand scheme of things.  Oblivion’s expansions faced this problem.

Did you really do everything?

There are material benefits to producing this kind of tangential mini-game, as opposed to the standard DLC fare. Let’s point out how everyone wins with the road less traveled:

Potential Spinoff Material For Publishers

First let’s note that Blood Dragon raked in bookoo bucks, apparently five times what Ubisoft projected to make off the project.  But they’re also conjectures that the creative director is talking about a sequel and separate franchise for the titular hero Rex.

Even assuming a nice ROI, standard DLC just doesn’t hold this kind of potential.

Unique Experience For Gaming Public

Not to say that the guys at Ubisoft Montreal couldn’t have whipped up some witty, well composed material that fit within the typical confides of their universe…but there’s no comparison.  Generalized into a rule, wouldn’t any gamer rather play an out-of-left-field take on a franchise right after putting down the retail copy?  Same mechanics, familiar routines, fresh zeitgeist.

Flight of Fancy For The Development Team

After working within the same narrative structure and looking at the same textures, it must be exhilarating to put their hard earned know-how to use in a completely novel universe.  I haven’t spoken to anyone on the team, but it must do wonders for moral, especially compared to the rote activity of whipping up additional missions.

A New Game For Critics To Dissect

Hey, not a lot happens in the lead up to E3.

Transposable Business Model For Their Peers

The most important dimension.  There are plenty of other games that have the same problem: an impressive but expensive engine that can only be used on one series and its sequels before being remade or tossed entirely.  Since all of the above is a good thing, shameless copycatting should be encouraged.

Here are the candidates for the highest form of flattery:

Assassin’s Creed 3

Engine:  Anvil Next

Dead Space

Engine: Visceral Engine

Rage

Engine: id tech5

Blood Dragon is not unlike the flashy science experiment concocted by the brightest 8^th grade whiz-kid.  Hopefully the guys above are taking notes for next year.

I have long enjoyed the Halo franchise’s intriguing universe, immersing storyline, and unmatched multiplayer experience. 

The original Halo has been paramount to all others for the immense tale it undertook.  Beginning with the “Star Wars”-esque chase from the Covenant to the discovery of a planetary installation and finally to the introduction of the Flood.  The layers of history and back story created a truly unique world to inhabit.  While Halo has always been about the multiplayer, I have personally always paid more heed to the single player story.

When Halo 2 came out I was ecstatic to see what new treats the Halo Universe had in store for me, but I was more or less let down by the sequel.  We were introduced to the Elites and given an understanding of the Covenant as a religious group, although other than that it was more of the same.  There were new maps featuring locations on earth, and of course there was the ability to duel-wield weapons.  Extremely exciting, but it didn’t push the story anywhere for a marquee selling point.

Halo 3 continued offering more of the same as Halo 2, but mundanely never introduced anything new to the universe.

After that we saw some reboots starting with ODST that took a refreshing break from Master Chief to show off the moves of non-Spartans in the New Mombasa invasion featured in Halo 2.  This choice along with wonderful voice acting from a few cast members of Firefly (the greatest TV show ever) aroused a new vigor in the series.  Then Halo Reach offered a similar experience as the game centered in events alluded to in previous games.  With no fear of losing respect for Master Chief, Halo Reach was a hit.

Initially I was worried about Halo 4.  Halo 2 and 3 were basically a wash when it came to the single player, but I was admittedly excited due to the reinvigoration provided by Reach and ODST.

I was not disappointed.  We found a new planet (thank god I didn’t have to spend time aimlessly blowing up another ring), met new bad guys, and received insight into the Universe’s rich history.  I felt fulfilled for the first time since Master Chief escaped from the Pillar of Autumn, but little did I know the excitement that lay ahead of me.

As I began to play a few rounds of team slayer I found Halo: Infinty.  A single player/co-op storyline that assists you in unlocking multiplayer prizes as well as gives you experience in the multiplayer map layouts: a revolutionary idea!  The game play is a simple seek and destroy all targets, but it works well as a training ground.

While it doesn’t hold the same excitement of wondering what’s around the next corner, it does cater to science fiction nerds like myself by delivering beautiful cut scenes that further engrave this world into my heart.

Awwww!

It’s been rightly pointed out that Riptide is a virtual clone of its predecessor.  That’s true, there’s no denying it.  But…this is a bad thing?  Let’s be clear: Dead Island (either one) is the best zombie RPG out there, period.  Hopelessly look around for something better – have a run with War Z if it suits – and then come crawling back to Dead Island.  It’ll be waiting, arms open and ready to chomp.

First let’s focus on what Dead Island has actually improved on since its original version (taken from our original Bad Cop Review):

Dead Island’s core slash and burn melee fighting has…a lack of mechanics beyond body-specific bashing…

The focus is still precise blows to break bones, but there’s a bit more strategy this time around.  The new special zombies require honed strategies to quickly dispatch, calling for certain weapons or effects. The addition of meat bait allows the zombie hunter to toss a distracting hunk of gore for zombies to surround, ideal for a Molotov follow up.

The ‘Butcher’ zombie type is resistant to slashing damage, and has weak points at both shoulders.

Even if you run out of stamina and can no longer run or muster a swing, you can still spam rapid fire kicks in every direction…there are no timed missions or real threats to the characters you run into…

The kick has been nerfed: no more swinging legs around without detriment.  The activation time has also been neutered. Admittedly, there’s still little reason to care if different characters die, but at least that possibility introduces a small sense of urgency in certain sections.

…[of] the missions you’re sent on, 90% are fetch quests…

There are a few great missions that necessitate a defense of the homestead, demanding barrier construction, mine placement, and more.  “Dead Zones” areas found in the wilderness are self-contained areas full of harder zombies with strategic placements and scripted behaviors.

The intense boat mission challenge you to simultaneously defend your craft and save your floundering teammates. Should have taken those swim lessons…

 Another way to look at Dead Island is as a case in point, a litmus test for detecting inherent problems in the attempt at a zombie RPG.  Consider that, in a wide open world outside of restricting corridors and darkened rooms, it’s tricky to make a cooperative zombie game compelling or challenging when guns and ammo are aplenty.

Left 4 Dead sidesteps this problem by introducing hordes of zombies that periodically spawn then sprint past invisible walls towards the survivors.  Dead Rising has the luxury of not taking itself seriously, content to let players run over tsunamis of undead in golf carts or bop them with whiffle bats.  Resident Evil 6’s solution is frustrate the player with broken mechanics.  To each his own.

This is all to say that Dead Island made the right call by majoring in melee oriented combat and only opting for a minor in shooting.  Picking off ‘classic’ zombies from afar over and over again would not make for compelling gameplay.  It’s similarly doubtful that anyone would be pleased with a strictly scavenger approach where avoidance is tantamount and combat is rare.

If that is what you’re looking for, wait for The Last of Us. It won’t have any kind of story coop though.

Heady analysis aside, Riptide is a content-packed adventure, good gory fun if you can look past its small drawbacks.  Don’t think, just swing.

Riptide plays like a photocopy of the first Dead Island, pulled right out of the Xerox.  Like little specs of dust on a document that become progressively darker and more obfuscating per copy, all of the little glitches that stuck to the 2011 original are amplified upon repetition.  Every single blemish was duplicated to the point of laziness, such that you may as well just read our previous Bad Cop Review.

Come to think of it, there is a new problem that I hadn’t experienced last time with the console versions: there are no hard saves.  This is especially frustrating when John Morgan gets carried away hacking off undead limbs in the middle of nowhere – now he must find a new mission, fast travel, or do something else to trigger a save.

This scene of chaos looks like fun, yes? The typical encounter bears little resemblance unfortunately.

There are some elements of surprise to be found, but the default showdown still breaks down to: 1) survivor gets a few shots in the surprise round; 2) managing rushing zombies to one-on-one bouts; 3) swing away until nothing is moving.

Dead Island is sorely lacking some kind of overarching mechanic that touches every facet of gameplay and introduces a new dynamic into the well-established usual.  Maybe an AI director (similar to Left 4 Dead) tasked with flinging zombies at the player when it decided that an interesting scenario would come of it.  It could also select special zombies based on the character’s strengths and weaknesses.  Maybe next time?

Every once in a while it pours rain, severely obscuring vision. But it’s only the germ of an idea – I’d love to see more of these kind of environmental variables to mix it up. Maybe quicksand, or giant waves during beach raids.

 Riptide ends up unintentionally posing a unique question for open world RPG’s: when is it too much when it comes to bugs?  Skyrim, the greatest RPG of its kind in the past decade, is still plagued by certain bugs even as its being actively expanded upon.  Ditto for Assassin’s Creed III, Far Cry III, you name it.

So where’s the threshold between funny and endearing and understandable versus grating and embarrassing and unforgivable? Does it matter that Dead Island habitually commits the same sins over and over, whereas Elder Scrolls games figure out fresh ways to fuck up every iteration?  What about the pedigree – is it relevant that Dead Island is still a new IP from a company out of Poland?

One of the first lines from the indispensable Sam B: “Aw you mean I’m stuck on an infested island again?!” Rinse and repeat son.

That answer will likely be different for different people, both within the RPG community and from without.  It also involves a fair bit of self-integrity – fanboys are gifted apologists for their special series.

I’d bet that gamers new to the budding franchise will harbor less revulsion for the numerous infractions seen in Riptide since it’s an original experience.  The jungle setting here is certainly well stocked with stuff to do, but there’s also a prevailing “been there, done that” sense to carving up zombies in the jungle.  The opportunity to import previous characters aside, this Riptide may be best savored by new comers.

For a game administered its own comic book series for run-up promotion and produced by NetherRealm, the story is a tad disappointing, even for a fighting game.  Injustice had a shot at making the case for the genre – even fighters could have a grand, overarching plot that evolves smoothly over multiple sequels.  When dealing with the potential dynamism of super heroes and multiple dimensions, fresh game mechanics could always be whipped up for each iteration without fear of jumping the shark.  Those aspirations aren’t here – it simply won’t happen.

While the premise of the plot line may be intriguing, the story beats themselves invoke equal parts confusion and head slappers.  Not long after landing in a new dimension with the Joker, the #1 priority for the ever-pragmatic Bat is a distracting, meaningless scrap?  DC comics surely revolve around violence, but this degree of pulp fit more in the Mortal Kombat universe, where any 10 minute stretch without fist-a-cuffs was cause for concern.

The script is similarly atrocious, forcing groans from even the most jaded comic book fans.

Netherealm wisely repeats their methodology of seamlessly interspersing transitions into fights from the cut scenes.  But it’s also a Trojan Horse for the only real technical flaw in Injustice – the visuals deteriorate into crappy textures during close ups and overblown action scenes.  These blemishes only stick out when compared to the otherwise slickly composed fights themselves.

This could still happen…but I seriously doubt it.

Nothing about Injustice ever suggested that it would take a more ambitious approach to the “lunch table debate” premise of caveat-free hero/villain match-ups.  It didn’t really need to – there’s tons of enjoyment to be had without the need to be fastidiously nerdy.  But something like Ray Carsillo’s glee barometer is just so wrongheaded that he must be stopped mid-sentence.

 Would Bane be able to go toe-to-toe with Solomon Grundy? Could Green Arrow ever stand up to Superman? Could Shazam, Earth’s Mightiest Mortal, strike down Ares? Could Nightwing surpass his teacher and beat down Batman? Now, NetherRealm Studios has provided me with an outlet for my musings that’s so perfect, so tailor-made for geeks like me, that there’s only one possible explanation: Ed Boon is psychic.

This really couldn’t be further from the truth – even Mr. Boon knows that.  For better or worse, it’s very possible for Catwoman to beat the snot out of Superman…despite the fact that it’s probably not even possible for her to injure him at all in other mediums.  Balance was placed above an accurate lore – there doesn’t need to be any apologizing for that.  The relatively equal viability ends up outweighing the silly scenes of Doomsday obliterating Harley Quinn with a hit that knocks her through buildings…for 17% damage.

Could NetherRealm have taken a hint from the fighting game pariah that is Naruto: Gekit? Ninja Taisen series?  It has long been known for its flagrant disregard for balance, acknowledging that certain characters are unquestionably more dominant than others.  Some efforts are made for balance, but it’s not the traditional commitment.

The big super moves are definitely cool, but there’s only one per character and some are a bit too long.

That’s what I really wanted here.  While satisfying, Injustice fails to scratch that uncompromising, totally unmarketable itch for a game where Superman betrays humanity and no one can stop him.  I want two-on-one battles with Krypton laced brass knuckles; I want a legitimate fight against the ultimate Boy Scout.  No dice.

The great lunch debate will have to continue.

Injustice walks a fine line between respectable hardcore fighting game and fanboy cream dream.  Gods Among Us is similar to the collective epiphany experienced by Star Wars nerds and Lego geeks when the two combined forces: there was a general feeling of Duh, and then only greatness.  Similarly, both sides are given their due in this holy consummation of awesomeness.

All of the little details of Injustice just make sense for DC fans.  Superman’s uppercut feels devastating, Nightwing flips around nonsensically, the Joker cracks sick jokes, Green Lantern can cheese out victories better than anyone, etc.  Everything is in its place.  Such is the appreciation for detail that is absolutely essential to creating the kind of atmosphere absolutely necessary for comic enthusiasts.

The S.T.A.R.S. lab is a series of missions and mini-games with creative victory triggers. It’s a direct evolution of MK’s Tower.

All of the levels and special moves follow suit: fan service comfort food is in grand celebration here, made feasible with the multiple dimension story line.  While the quality of the story telling might not be commendable, the premise is definitely intriguing.

What if Superman, after being pushed too far, decided that slinking in the shadows was no longer fitting for the sole survivor of Krypton?  By extension, what if his perspective on humanity shifted?  Their shot at executing concepts like Democracy, freedom of speech, etc. has run its course; it’s time to lead by force rather than example.  When faith in the system crumbles, heroes and villains show their true colors and realign allegiances.

Similar accommodations await fighting game fans: every last move for each character is broken down into damage percentages, activation/recovery frames, and more.  Simply pulling up the button input cleanly displays all of this information, no digging around on Gamefaqs or stepping through frames of captured video.  How was this not included in any one of the Street Fighter 4 iterations rolled out over the past five years?

Those fluent in Mortal Kombat will speak Injustice’s language just fine. The cadence of the combos are almost identical.

But Injustice renders itself equally serviceable to all echelons of fighting expertise.  Casual acquaintances with the genre will immediately notice that each different fighter falls into a general archetype that governs their abilities and limitations.  There are heavy hitters, grapplers, acrobatic fly-weights, etc.  Even a player completely ignorant to the DC universe can quickly size up the roster and correctly sort out the different options.

All the basics are covered for the expected fighter matchup experience.  The online multiplayer is well supported with options robustly configured for plenty of different mayhem scenarios.  More importantly levels of skill are well accounted for within the different matchups, ensuring that you never face inappropriate fights too many times in a row.

Give Mr. Boon credit for refusing to force monotony on his players: all 24 characters come unlocked without any fuss.

My sense is that Injustice only intended to create a staging area for “who beats who” debates.  The final experience is much more ambitious, featuring a fighting system that iterates well on Mortal Kombat and could make for a viable tournament IP.  Even if it doesn’t make it into the halls of EVO NetherRealm should be proud of a game with small expecations.

Bioshock Infinite is very, very good.  It’s rare to see a reimagining like this start from the ground up and skillfully retain the themes while jettisoning the narrative mass.  The art style is there as well, tagging Infinite as a Bioshock even at first glance.

The Vigors are largely the same as the previous two. What’s worse, the alternate fires are all mines now.

But that’s not to say they share all the same strengths.  Ditching anything similar to the Little Sister Save/Harvest choice was wise.  But Bioshock doesn’t fill the hole left in its place and fails to deliver on the heightened expectations for meaningful player choice that follows a hyped up sequel.  Such decisions still play a part, but they’re too few and far between to meaningfully brand the campaign.

Levine spoke of Booker inspiring jealousy in Songbird. How would we know this again? Seems like it wants to kill him like everyone else…

Bioshock games were known for their engrossing ambiance, compelling in part because of their clean production values.  So many little scenes of lunacy and depravity were sprinkled in so as to paint Rapture as truly horrifying and in general set the franchise apart from other FPS’s.     

Infinite attempts the same feat but fails to stick the landing – bugs and poor deliver drag down these encounters.

Too many of these random exchanges feel meaningless or just broken – NPC’s fail to react after shooting their friends or continue their canned action in the middle of a fire fight.  Even allowing DeWitt to loot food and money freely in a slum seems a little silly.

Running around and searching every trash can for loot has admittedly grown old.

The problem is often magnified by the scope of the levels.  The riot scenes in particular demand a perpetuated atmosphere of interactive chaos wherever DeWitt turns.  So it’s especially unsatisfying when preemptively shooting prostrate soldiers does nothing – they’re locked into a preset animation and will only fall when the Vox militant fires. 

There’s nothing wrong with predetermined sequences like this, they just can’t allow the peak behind the curtain.  Infinite just misses too many beats like this.  This is as much to say that Infinite suffers from similar ailments seen in other games that open up the world in terms of scale and possibilities for exploration.  But does that mean Infinite should get the same pass as Skyrim?

Complaining about bugs is only pertinent here because the answer is no, and because there are such lofty expectations for immersion associated with the series.  It’s all the more disappointing since Elizabeth’s implementation mechanically is watered down at best.

It wasn’t long ago at E3 2011 where trailers premiered Elizabeth getting grabbed by a soldier and kicking him off  in the middle of gameplay.  There were scenes of her crushing goons and promises made of her dynamism in combat.  The game reminds you that “Elizabeth can handle herself” in fights, and that this isn’t RE4.

This is all true, but disappointingly because enemies simply ignore her as she cowers in the corner.  In the opening scenes, Booker remarks that he’s not afraid of God, but he is afraid of her.  Good for Columbia’s police that they don’t need to be – she will continually toss you supplies or create weapon caches but fails to directly engage in shoot outs.

There are plenty of ambitious new strides made in Infinite that set it apart from the world of Rapture, but Elizabeth is clearly the centerpiece.  It’s a significant let down to slowly discover that, although indispensable for the narrative, she doesn’t serve a profound purpose in the bread and butter gameplay.

Would it have been so dramatically different if Elizabeth were a magical hologram like Cortana?

There’s no way around it: this bait and switch for Bioshock hearkens to Peter Molyneux’s style of promising grandeur only to be crushed by reality.  Fortunately, the end product is still so gripping that it’s easy to forget these early wide eyed promises.

2K and Irrational have spent the past three years well, honing an experience centered around high intensity action while demanding it be savored throughout.  The game’s backbone is ostensibly the highly customizable and strategic shooting experience, but there is ample time made for flights of fancy into the beckoning world of Columbia.

Infinite creates a fresh level of strategy by allowing Booker to summon in cover, weapon caches, automatronic help, and more to turn the tide of fire fights.  It’s limited to one at a time, encouraging a run and gun strategy of moving from one setup to the next while carefully planning the next move.  Overall the combat is an easy affair, but that’s not to say that lifting dudes into the air for that trick headshot isn’t supremely satisfying.

The weapons look straight out of a floating city.

Pacing is a perennial focus for Bioshock games – between gun fights Booker is encouraged to explore Columbia and familiarize himself with the stories and characters that comprise her.  All of the voice acting is up to the high standards set by the previous games.  Found pre-recordings do a phenomenal job of teasing out the hidden motivations and struggles of the minor characters, firmly grounding the momentous plot points in the fathomable actions of those behind the gears.

The voice acting is award winning material throughout.

What’s more is that the 80 or so tape recordings are cleverly hidden, ensuring that each play through will reveal some but not others.  The result is that only certain perspectives will be attained each time through, promising different perceptions of the events that transpire.  It’s makes for a more profound kind of replayability that goes above and beyond different weapon load outs and the like.

Bioshock Infinite schemes.  There’s a prevailing sense that quite a bit is carefully hidden behind the curtain, that a larger epiphany is waiting in store when you finally hit the credits.  That kind of delivery is here, no question.  Without giving anything away, it’s important only to note that the twist treads in subtlety and has more depth compared to Bioshock’s “Would you kindly”.  It gains its power from its contextualization – any spoiler would be cheap in that it’d be incapable of conveying the impact to someone ignorant of the plot points.

The relationship between Booker and Elizabeth gains serious traction over the course of the adventure.

In summary: Irrational has shamed similar developers locked into their cash cow franchise.  Others struggle to create compelling arguments for relevance after that crucial second game.  Bioshock ignores the problem entirely and boldly swoops into new terrain largely unscratched.

Infinite feels like a game that other diminished dev teams release only after letting the franchise settle for several years, then ride the phoenix of a new console generation.  That this Bioshock released in the death throes of this current gen and capped off a spurt of what is possibly the greatest early year releases ever seen is a testament to their bold vision and self-confidence.

This is the man responsible for masterfully weaving into a FPS themes of racism and social theory.

I mean nothing against this game when I say that the next Bioshock shouldn’t be a first person shooter.   Shooting fire and lead is endless fun and the mechanics feel responsive.  But it’s ultimately the weakest link in the equation.  Ken Levine and his art directors have whipped up truly a masterpiece in Bioshock series and they should be proud.  But another genre ultimately bears more promising fruit for their team.

Relating the two is a long shot since one group is dominated by HGH addicts and the other by harmless Koreans.  The NFL meeting itself is largely pompous ceremony and Starcraft didn’t really initiate a rule change per se, they released an expansion that overhauled the game.  One has cheerleaders, the other has…

Grass is always greener?

In any event, the coincidence of the two is a perfect opportunity to highlight just how easy (conventional) sports coaches and players have it. 

RULES OF ENGAGMENT

Consider the relatively minimal changes in the sports leagues over the years – in the grand scheme of things, very little is altered.  Even a potentially monumental 2013 that saw a significant new rule limiting running backs is negligible compared to the upheavals seen in the Starcraft world.

Let’s look at a few of the changes brought about by a typical Starcraft II patch and try to relate them to rule changes in our favorite sports:

Players can no longer block off ramps with two 2×2 buildings.

This would be like eliminating holding for centers in the NFL.  

 Void Ray Now deals 20% more damage to massive targets. Flux Vanes speed upgrade removed.

Imagine if guards could not be assessed flagrant fouls against larger centers in the paint.  

Ghost Snipe damage changed from 45 to 25 (+25 vs Psionic).

Runners are no longer allowed to lead off of Third Base, but can perform illegal slides against the catcher.

Just imagine how dramatically this would alter these respective professional leagues.  Better yet, consider how much players, owners, coaches, fans everyone would bitch.  And these are just patches – changes made between expansions are far more dramatic. Consider the overhaul to the Terran Reaper:

The Reaper has changed significantly. The Reaper no longer deals bonus damage to buildings or light units. The speed boost upgrade has been removed from the game. Reaper’s base movement speed has been increased (up to about 3.8, which is faster than un-upgraded Reapers but slower than a Wings of Liberty Reaper with Nitro Packs). Additionally, Reapers heal outside of combat and now have 60 HP (instead of 50 HP). Finally, Reapers produce in 40 seconds instead of 45 seconds and no longer require a Reactor on the Barracks.

The tennis racket has been replaced with an Alaskan Halibut.

Pour onto this the reality of different tournaments further tweaking rules, often capping populations, disallowing units entirely, and peppering in custom maps.  It’s the equivalent of an NBA coach entering the playoffs and being forced to draw up plays only for players under 6’9 on a court 20 feet larger on each side.

PHYSICAL PROWESS

It cannot even be said that the purely physical arms race is exclusive to professional sports.  The continuing evolution of freakish athleticism in the major arenas is obviously more profound than in video game communities.  But that doesn’t prevent the average Actions Per Minute (APM) of top level players from increasing over the past several years.  Furthermore, there’s an exponential narrowing in the gulf between average accurate APM between players as you move down the league chain.

The professional players of course enjoy the widest margins, suggesting that the .1% truisms you hear about in the world of sports are equally true in Starcraft.  The point is that you cannot simply be a brilliant strategist or continually practice – physical limitations are also a concern.

STRATEGERY

Scene from a Sky ProLeague match; there are hundreds of thousands on hand.

Both have to deal with shifts in strategies over time, where dominating minds institute new tactics to keep each other sharp.  Jock versus Geek arguments centered around who is more strategically clever are all misguided.  Even so it’s again an uneven comparison.

Starcraft players are battling literally 24/7.  In one night a player can log off having fleshed out a new play only to wake up to find this new idea iterated on, morphed radically, and already discarded by the community.  If defensive coordinators, bullpen coaches, and the like thought their job was tough, just imagine keeping up with the Jonses as a Starcraft player.

Conversely, tide changes in the NFL and NBA are measured in years, sometimes decades.  The MLB is so rigid that changes in the actual game (as opposed to the draft and recruiting) are exceedingly rare – so many plays have gone unchanged for a century.

Sliding isn’t going anywhere.

There’s a lot of nuance being glossed over here, no question.  Comparing the old time traditions of our nation’s venerated sports leagues to a video game formally married to the Internet is also not fair.

Nonetheless, Starcraft players have as much at stake as pro athletes: sponsorship contracts, celebrity street-cred, media attention, their fat paychecks, years of diligent practice, etc.  They have justifiably larger anxiety complexes when it comes to their future.  Millions watch their games and live attendees clap for excellent performances.

DOG EAT DOG

As Geoff Robinson of Evil Geniuses stated in an interview, it’s an extremely tumultuous scenario:

…players live on borrowed time and they know it.  We make our money solely off of how successful we are and how much attention we get.  If something challenges either, or both in this case, because of change or the need for adaptation then we are very afraid.

Sounds pretty similar to an NBA hot shot, no?  The only difference is that everything happens at 100x the speed and memories are far shorter for internet junkies.  There may be fewer fans following them, but that hardly matters when you’re being stared down by hundreds of thousands at an international tournament battling your fellow best of the best. So let’s have a little more sympathy for Starcraft players.  Or at least this guy: