Short story: Turn off the console

Turn off the console!?’ I hear you scream.

‘Is he mad?’

Many of my friends would disagree, but no, I am not mad.

*Spandex....

For many years my vocation was my playstation. For many years before that, I studied the fine works of Nintendo, Sega, and Sir Clive Sinclair. Technology has come so far so quickly, and my generation have been riding this ‘revolution’ for some time now. Consoles have been keeping our minds off our mind for a while, and nobody seems to mind. I didn’t.

I mean…

What else is there to do?

Euro 96 was well under way, and Chay and I determined that college could wait for a day. It had been waiting for a week already, so we decided that another day probably wouldn’t matter. Anyhow, football was way more important, and England had an old score to settle with Italy. Chay had beaten me severely down the arcade earlier that morning, and we decided to resume our fight on another battleground.

The Nintendo.

I’ll put my hands up here and be honest. Chay was the King of arcade football. I was certainly the Prince, but he was the King. Although it hurts me to admit it, he was the Pele of the virtual pitch. His intensity frightened me. Blisters and cut fingers were just every-day injuries when he played, and he played a lot. Yup, Chay was the Don.

But the console was a different ball game entirely.

He was crap.

Really bad.

I beat him repeatedly. Over and over. Again and again. With each hour that passed, Chay was becoming more and more agitated. It didn’t help that I would make some sarcastic comment with an irritating timing…

‘Cor! You’re crap mate!’

Shut up Kris.’

‘Oooo, how the mighty have fallen!’

‘Shut up Kris.’

‘Bloody hell mate! That one went into row D! Houston we have a problem.’

‘…’

And on it went. Later that evening Matt and Jamie turned up, and sat on the couch to watch the big game. They were both aware of Chays footballing prowess, and defiantly expected me to lose.

No chance.

Well, no chance except for the nine goals that the git put past me. I couldn’t believe it! I had been kicking his ass all day! And now that Jamie and Matt are here, he’s turned into some football prodigy!

‘He’s been like this all day.’ Chay sneered.

He was getting his own back.

And loving it.

I felt the rage building up inside me after every ball hit the back of my net. And with every goal, Chay would rub it in some more.

‘Dammit Kris. Why don’t you just give up?’

Matt and Jamie had no idea what was going on here! They believed he had been beating me all day long!

And with the ninth goal, and the nineteenth sarcastic comment it happened.

snap.

It took a very confused Matt and Jamie a lot of effort to pull me off of poor Chay. I went crazy. Ballistic.

‘Kris! Its only a game mate!’

I didn’t care. It felt like more than a game. It felt very personal.

Thankfully, Chay and I are still very good friends. And if ‘It moved in a puppet like manner’ taught you that what isn’t there has the ability to scare you, then this should surely teach you that ‘What isn’t there has the ability to make you beat up your good friends.’

I see it all the time. People punching walls, and kicking the cat. They are just pixels on our T.V screens and monitors, but we believe it to be real nonetheless. Again, the heart rate rises, we sweat, we beat up our friends etc. Ever noticed the horrible atmosphere when you go into an arcade? I believe this manifests from thousands of virtual conflicts between players.

It isn’t healthy.

Take up a martial art and do it sincerely.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe that competitiveness can be good if it is used in the right way. Sitting behind a T.V screen isn’t the right way, believe me. Your mind believes that you are kicking, driving, jumping, dancing, running, punching, flying, and your body is just sitting there static. You are receiving mixed signals.

One day you may mourn your youth.

Turn off the console…I dare you.