A few weeks ago, I became so irked at a boss battle that I smashed my Xbox wireless controller upon my desk. A loud crunch resulted. My rage quickly melted into horror as I turned my head downwards and realised that lo and behold, my gaming table now had a hole in it.
It was the human form of Nioh 3’s Takeda Shingen, so not even the toughest boss in the game – merely one who managed to vex me in a very particular manner on a trying day, resulting in the aforementioned cavity decorating the piece of Ikea MDF that rests atop two cabinets and holds up my computer.
Dear reader, know that I am not a violent person. In fact, multiple therapists have told me that I actually need to work on expressing anger, an emotion that I was rarely allowed to expel in childhood and young adulthood for various reasons. But thanks to these typical mild manners, the moments when I do blow my lid are all the more momentous and surprising.
Generally, I tend to get annoyed when I feel overwhelmed by mounting stress and a lack of control. And on the day that I smashed my desk, I was struggling to advance further in Nioh 3, feeling the pressure of being the only person on the guides team covering it, and also working overtime.
While I’ll always be grateful that I managed to land a job that actually pays me to play video games, I am a firm believer that the “do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life” statement is BS. Anything, even video game playing, becomes work when you’ve got to adhere to deadlines. And in this case, trying to speedrun a tough Soulslike (albeit a good one; check out my Nioh 3 review) as quickly as possible can be a tense affair, especially when you’re taking notes and capturing footage all the while.
Nioh 3’s embargo deadline had also been bumped up at the last minute, throwing a spanner in the works of my guide scheduling plans. As I tried to make up for lost time by plowing through the section that I needed to complete ASAP, I began to play sloppily, which is always a recipe for disaster when dealing with a game renowned for painful bosses. Takeda Shingen was the wall that put me in my place, and my desk suffered the consequences.
In retrospect, I should’ve taken a break and cooled off. After I went downstairs and sheepishly explained what I’d done to my bemused wife, I did just that, and proceeded to wreck Takeda Shingen fairly easily a few hours later once the dust had settled. But as many folks reading this will know, it’s hard to cool off when you’re in the throes of trying to make just a little more progress in a video game, and it’s doubly difficult to do so when making said progress is your livelihood.
I like to think I can partly blame genetics for this. My brother, also a very mild mannered guy on almost all occasions, would only ever get angry at the NES games we grew up with. According to him, the reason why all of our old controllers make jangly sounds these days is because he chucked them into our childhood sofa at some point or another. (Frankly, I can’t blame him for this – you ever try beating Iron Tank or Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom in the pre-internet age?)
Then there’s our father, actually a very technologically-educated Boomer who invested in an IBM PC early on for business purposes. Despite this, Dad never could stand it when computers betrayed him, and back in the early ’90s he was attempting to help my brother with a school report that required usage of an early version of Excel.
The report was due the following morning, and both Dad and my brother were up against some issue with cells or whatnot – y’know, typical Excel stuff. After spending far too long consulting the massive Excel manual to try to figure out what the problem was, Dad finally lost his cool, thrust the manual into the air, and barrelled it onto the ground with the force of a thousand suns. The book’s spine cracked in two, and after our mother chastised him, Dad had to begrudgingly tape it back together again, all while muttering “goddammit!” under his breath. I think I was still a little kid during this episode, and I probably ran and hid when it happened.
Alas, the cycle continues. When tech confounds me, I too let loose with a “goddammit!” in the exact tone that my Dad used, and I definitely did so when Takeda Shingen whooped my butt for the 20th time. Though I do not have children, I do have dogs. Our miniature schnauzer ran out of the room when I busted up my desk, and avoided the sound of my controller for the next week.
Thankfully, all is well now. The dog has forgotten my outburst, Nioh 3 is done and dusted (with over 100+ bosses chronicled by yours truly), and I’ll probably think twice about using my controller as a gavel again. (By the way, said controller, purchased in 2017, survived this incident perfectly. I almost wish it hadn’t, because its buttons are far too sticky.)
That said, I’ve left the crater in my desk for the time being. Even though I could flip the MDF over or replace it easily, it’s an amusing reminder that I should check myself before I wreck myself, and I daresay that when I look at it, I think of ancient Excel books with broken spines…and the amusing tendency of the men in my lineage to get utterly pissed off at the foibles of technology.
I know I can’t be the only one with a story like this. What gaming products have caused you to go into a frenzy, and did you also grow up in a household that saw similar familial shenanigans? Spill all in the comments!