LAN
A couple months ago, I spent the entire day gaming. When I say the entire day, I mean it. I started at about 9:00 am and finished up around 11:00 pm. I took short breaks for lunch and dinner but nearly every minute of my day was spent staring at my computer monitor. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one; about twelve guys stationed to all around me did the very same thing. See, I was invited to my very first lan party. My activities were encouraged.
While LAN gaming surely isn’t the necessity it once was — broadband access can make it seem like thousands are right there in your living room (hey no crumbs on the couch, please) — it’s still a worthy exercise. The camaraderie of close quarters provides an experience that the solitude of my office desk cannot reproduce. Something can be said about hearing the cries of your victims from across the room.
What surprised me about the event (outside of the absolutely incredible setup the host of the party possessed — network cables and power wires seem to lurch from every crevice of his basement) was how several moments of the day have become solidified memories. I’ll attempt to describe a couple here. If you can imagine a room lit only by the glow of computer monitors, the sounds of running computer fans, and occasional scream of anguish while you read below, so much the better.
My most prized moment of the morning sprung from a match of the Battlefield 1942 mod, Desert Combat. After some intense battles on the Weapon Bunkers map, our team was falling on hard luck. Two of the map objectives, which involved blowing up bunkers of weapons, had been destroyed, leaving only the last objective, a third bunker, left standing. The problem was that our tickets — and tickets are what determines the winner and loser of the match — were rapidly approaching zero. I raced to the third bunker, with very little hope that anything could be done. Upon arrival, I rapidly laid explosives, noting that the bunker was already smoking and heavily damaged. My immediate problem was that much of my team had been wiped out by staunch defenses and I could see the enemy approaching from all sides. I would never make it down from the bunker alive to flip the switch and time was very nearly up. I made a snap decision and pulled the plunger, sending both the bunker and myself sky high. We won the match by a single ticket.
Another Desert Combat map left me with memories of a furious tank battle. Throughout the match, two of teammates and I fought to keep control of one of the map’s two capture points. It was a long battle and the hectic activity required to raise a proper defense gave me a sniff of that “in the bunker” feeling. The three of us shouted locations of mined entrances at each other. One of us was always directing the others towards the direction of the latest attack.
At one point we were all ousted nearly simultaneously, leaving the base in the enemy’s hands and the three of us respawning in front of pretty new tanks back at our home base. Those three tanks left the base at full speed in an effort to reclaim our lost prize. The result was a glorious exchange of gunfire as all three tanks rolled into and then recaptured the lost base. The only missing was the music from the “Ride of the Valkeries”.
Unreal Tournament’s Leviathan provided the parting shot of the party, at least from my perspective. This vehicle seats about 5 and is pretty powerful even when used for a leisurely drive around the battlefield. Its main weapon — which must be deployed in a special sequence, leaving it immobilized, is something to behold. I wasn’t prepared for the massive explosion that could erupt from this lumbering beast. Neither was the other team.
All in all, the event was a blast and something I very much hope I get a chance to repeat. If there was any doubt, gaming is better as a community experience, especially without the convenience that the internet provides. It’s even better when you control the Leviathan.
