01-31-2010, 10:30 PM
An Apology to the Blitz:
Wargamers enjoy competition. We live for it. We spend endless hours, huddled in dark basements, risking asbestosis and agoraphobia with every isolated and moldy breath, pondering the success or failure of taking that second shot, trying to scout that one hex your unsure of, deciding who's going to pay the butcher's bill when you scout, whether or not the other guy moved that last AA unit in behind the King Tiger he's been spotting your world with and if it's worth the risk, taking that objective even though you know that's what he's expecting and your going to get shelled into infinity the next turn, knowing he just reset his OP fire settings with that platoon of Shermans but determined to find out the hard way, not having the formula but being almost certain if you toss in that last flamethrower halftrack from the rear on the third assault your almost certainly going to finally take that hex, etc., etc.
For me and countless others both here in the Blitz and elsewhere, it's one of the best things in our lives. It keeps us sharp, keeps us focused, and helps us become better thinkers. Over the years we become fanatics as it were, developing skills and seeing nuance that the beginners can only scratch their heads over. Then we experience the joy of bringing a beginner in, a new individual that you see the same potential in, and you start the process of showing them the wonderful and complex world we enjoy. This I believe is where most of us make the turn, and realize this game, and indeed all serious gaming, is about community.
As we work through the years, we can always look forward to that joyous moment when we see our inbox has a new PBEM turn in it. It can even make a Monday a good day when it's a game so good you can hardly stand the wait. Opening the move...cursing your opponent with envy for every move he pulled off you didn't see coming no matter how hard you tried...chuckling at the monitor every time he took the bait...inventing new words when he doesn't...and immediately deciding on the course of action you'll take to unhinge him for his temerity next turn...only to revise it six times as you play it. The only selfish pleasure left being the secret joy you feel during your turn...saying to yourself..."He's going to love watching this on the replay"...and knowing it's true only because of the joyous rage you felt watching what he just did to you.
The unanointed will never see it.
The new players sense it, see it, and wish to learn it.
The old players, having come full circle, realize it's no longer so important who we beat, but rather who we're playing.
We finally close the loop on all that pent up adolescent rage, once spent furiously trying to prove our ability by conquering a game that eludes those who lack the drive, intelligence, and determination. We realize the game transcends us. We see the true meaning of competition from both sides, and that golden moment arrives when the win-lose column really doesn't seem to matter as much as it used to. It's a wonderful moment. Still, we live for the competition, and it's a rare day when we pull our punches. The best way to show and mentor is to do it, which we do, and then explain when asked how.
Some, still driven to pay devotion and desperate for a creative outlet, turn to design. Some then step completely away from the competition aspects of it, and find their true joy is finding a way to help fill the needs of these like minded, driven souls who get it. If left in a room with 2 or 3 million hexagonal shaped tiles when I was a child, there is no doubt I'd still be there, happily yet myopically sighting from one high spot to the next.
Myself, and indeed most of this community, while driven to try to create scenarios still like to keep their hand in the game. If nothing else it serves as a reminder and constant tutor that guides us while designing. It reminds us repeatedly of the tactical and strategic nuance this marvelously fractal and delightfully complex landscape provides. No, better to say requires. We owe it to the game.
It may not be the greatest game ever made, it may not be chess, it may not even be checkers, but it's our game.
It's the best one I've ever played. I did spend seven years straight running a dungeon but even that has to take second...
Now I'm going to speak from the heart, but don't worry, it doesn't mean we're engaged or anything.
I recently lost sight of that reality and allowed my personal feelings to over ride almost two decades of devotion to this game and it's predecessors. From the time I first saw one of my high school friends overturn our month old game of Red Star-White Star in a fit of rage I had created through dumb luck rather than any tactical ability, I saw what mattered. The end result of that unfortunate incident was to realize my friend was still a good guy, actually turned out to be one of my best friends in life, and that wasn't really representative of him or his worth to me. He's got a temper. Something we share. It did cause us to institute the glass cover over the mapboard technique however. He is my second daughter's God Father, and one of the kind of men we all know and wish we knew more of. He's the one you'd want next to you in the foxhole.
We don't have the luxury of establishing life long histories with most we meet on the Blitz. What we do have is the ability to seek them out, game with them, design with them, and sometimes just exchange ideas with on the forums. I'm sure I've discovered quite a few more mates on this site, and there's always room in my basement bunker alongside. You bring the beer.
Now I find myself overturning the board. I find myself guilty of allowing my personal emotions to over ride my love of the game.
It's easy to say your sorry, it's easy to pound the keyboards and harbor hate as well, but please believe me. I violated every personal tenant I've tried to live by for decades with one ill advised emotional post.
I was banned for it, and served my time.
I am joining the vast and mostly silent majority, but I felt it best to at least let everyone know I didn't just take my ball and quit the game. I'm still playing, still testing, and still actively involved with the H2H area. For this reason it will be necessary for me to ask for testors from time to time on the forums, and I want to make sure I keep that line of communication open.
I understand the Hawk has extended the olive branch, and I consider him the better man for it.
Any apologies and fence mending between Erik and I should take place privately, but I'll try to be his equal and also extend my hand here publicly.
I think that's all I needed to say, but I needed you to all realize how important this game is to me, and acknowledge how important this group of talented, driven, iconoclastic, oftimes wonderful bunch is as well.
Regards,
Dan Caviness
Wargamers enjoy competition. We live for it. We spend endless hours, huddled in dark basements, risking asbestosis and agoraphobia with every isolated and moldy breath, pondering the success or failure of taking that second shot, trying to scout that one hex your unsure of, deciding who's going to pay the butcher's bill when you scout, whether or not the other guy moved that last AA unit in behind the King Tiger he's been spotting your world with and if it's worth the risk, taking that objective even though you know that's what he's expecting and your going to get shelled into infinity the next turn, knowing he just reset his OP fire settings with that platoon of Shermans but determined to find out the hard way, not having the formula but being almost certain if you toss in that last flamethrower halftrack from the rear on the third assault your almost certainly going to finally take that hex, etc., etc.
For me and countless others both here in the Blitz and elsewhere, it's one of the best things in our lives. It keeps us sharp, keeps us focused, and helps us become better thinkers. Over the years we become fanatics as it were, developing skills and seeing nuance that the beginners can only scratch their heads over. Then we experience the joy of bringing a beginner in, a new individual that you see the same potential in, and you start the process of showing them the wonderful and complex world we enjoy. This I believe is where most of us make the turn, and realize this game, and indeed all serious gaming, is about community.
As we work through the years, we can always look forward to that joyous moment when we see our inbox has a new PBEM turn in it. It can even make a Monday a good day when it's a game so good you can hardly stand the wait. Opening the move...cursing your opponent with envy for every move he pulled off you didn't see coming no matter how hard you tried...chuckling at the monitor every time he took the bait...inventing new words when he doesn't...and immediately deciding on the course of action you'll take to unhinge him for his temerity next turn...only to revise it six times as you play it. The only selfish pleasure left being the secret joy you feel during your turn...saying to yourself..."He's going to love watching this on the replay"...and knowing it's true only because of the joyous rage you felt watching what he just did to you.
The unanointed will never see it.
The new players sense it, see it, and wish to learn it.
The old players, having come full circle, realize it's no longer so important who we beat, but rather who we're playing.
We finally close the loop on all that pent up adolescent rage, once spent furiously trying to prove our ability by conquering a game that eludes those who lack the drive, intelligence, and determination. We realize the game transcends us. We see the true meaning of competition from both sides, and that golden moment arrives when the win-lose column really doesn't seem to matter as much as it used to. It's a wonderful moment. Still, we live for the competition, and it's a rare day when we pull our punches. The best way to show and mentor is to do it, which we do, and then explain when asked how.
Some, still driven to pay devotion and desperate for a creative outlet, turn to design. Some then step completely away from the competition aspects of it, and find their true joy is finding a way to help fill the needs of these like minded, driven souls who get it. If left in a room with 2 or 3 million hexagonal shaped tiles when I was a child, there is no doubt I'd still be there, happily yet myopically sighting from one high spot to the next.
Myself, and indeed most of this community, while driven to try to create scenarios still like to keep their hand in the game. If nothing else it serves as a reminder and constant tutor that guides us while designing. It reminds us repeatedly of the tactical and strategic nuance this marvelously fractal and delightfully complex landscape provides. No, better to say requires. We owe it to the game.
It may not be the greatest game ever made, it may not be chess, it may not even be checkers, but it's our game.
It's the best one I've ever played. I did spend seven years straight running a dungeon but even that has to take second...
Now I'm going to speak from the heart, but don't worry, it doesn't mean we're engaged or anything.
I recently lost sight of that reality and allowed my personal feelings to over ride almost two decades of devotion to this game and it's predecessors. From the time I first saw one of my high school friends overturn our month old game of Red Star-White Star in a fit of rage I had created through dumb luck rather than any tactical ability, I saw what mattered. The end result of that unfortunate incident was to realize my friend was still a good guy, actually turned out to be one of my best friends in life, and that wasn't really representative of him or his worth to me. He's got a temper. Something we share. It did cause us to institute the glass cover over the mapboard technique however. He is my second daughter's God Father, and one of the kind of men we all know and wish we knew more of. He's the one you'd want next to you in the foxhole.
We don't have the luxury of establishing life long histories with most we meet on the Blitz. What we do have is the ability to seek them out, game with them, design with them, and sometimes just exchange ideas with on the forums. I'm sure I've discovered quite a few more mates on this site, and there's always room in my basement bunker alongside. You bring the beer.
Now I find myself overturning the board. I find myself guilty of allowing my personal emotions to over ride my love of the game.
It's easy to say your sorry, it's easy to pound the keyboards and harbor hate as well, but please believe me. I violated every personal tenant I've tried to live by for decades with one ill advised emotional post.
I was banned for it, and served my time.
I am joining the vast and mostly silent majority, but I felt it best to at least let everyone know I didn't just take my ball and quit the game. I'm still playing, still testing, and still actively involved with the H2H area. For this reason it will be necessary for me to ask for testors from time to time on the forums, and I want to make sure I keep that line of communication open.
I understand the Hawk has extended the olive branch, and I consider him the better man for it.
Any apologies and fence mending between Erik and I should take place privately, but I'll try to be his equal and also extend my hand here publicly.
I think that's all I needed to say, but I needed you to all realize how important this game is to me, and acknowledge how important this group of talented, driven, iconoclastic, oftimes wonderful bunch is as well.
Regards,
Dan Caviness
