Blade Symphony - 20/20 hours

I spend some time tonight spectating matches between master level players. I wanted to try and see if I could spot the difference between a master player and a novice. So, I watched around a dozen matches between people who were both really good. They were each top-300 players, and separated only by about 40-50 ranks (the difference fluctuated as they won and lost matches).

Yet as much as I watched, I couldn't identify any particular distinction in their playing styles. As far as I could tell, the way they played was no different than the way I played. That's not really surprising, of course. Seeing the nuance in a skilled performance is an ability that itself takes a great deal of skill, and the fact that we are all using the exact same characters, with the exact same moves, doesn't help at all.

The difference didn't really become clear until one of my fellow oak-leaguers joined in the fray, and I could see the skill levels side-by-side. The oak player looked like they were in slow motion. The master player took them apart, and all I could do was sit back and shout, "HEY! Why aren't you swinging YOUR DAMNED SWORD?!" It was over very quickly, but, after seeing it, I thought I had this whole skill-level thing figured out. . .

When you're good at the game, you're able to do the moves at super-speed. While I may have thought that I was going fast, that perception was a memory of being in the thick of things, where of course it seemed fast to me, because I was reacting as quickly as I possibly could. Any spectator would have seen that I was, like the sacrificial oak-leaguer before me, moving like molasses.

It was a reasonable-sounding theory, but then a new player entered the arena, and this player was really good, ranked 25. Seeing them play was a real education, because they chose the slowest of the character classes, and somehow made it work. It was uncanny to watch. There were times when this player swung their blade, and I thought "there's no way that's going to hit," and yet, sure enough, by the time the attack animation completed, their enemy was in exactly the right position. Even weirder was the behavior of the undeniably excellent, rank 200-ish people they were playing against - suddenly, they moved like they were oak-leaguers. A combo would start and then BAM, it would be interrupted by a sword stroke. Somehow, this high ranking master was forcing their opponents to play at their pace.

It was so odd, that I myself had to jump in. I only played two matches, but they went down exactly like the ones I spectated. I'd think I was safely out of range, and then get tagged with the very tip of an attack, or I'd think I had an opening, and get hit before I could exploit it. It was like fighting a ghost. When I pointed that out, they very generously attributed it to lag (and it is true that my connection was terrible), but I knew the truth - there was simply a vast gulf of knowledge between us. If my ping had been lower, I'd have likely been baffled at a slightly higher speed.

I suppose, in order to be the best, you have to know the game to an astonishing degree - things like weapon ranges and attack animations not just for your character, but for any of your opponents, and you have to know them so well that they come to hand instantly, without having to pass through your conscious mind, so when you play a fast character, it will seem like blinding speed, and when you play a slow character, it will seem like precognition.

The path to gaining that knowledge seems long and difficult. First you've got to stop button mashing and learn to play mindfully, despite the fact that that will hurt your short-term performance. Then you've got pay attention to the visual cues of both your and your opponent's characters, despite being under attack. And finally, you've got to all of this for a long enough time that it becomes instinct, somehow resisting the urge to despair and give up during the long night when better players and passionate button mashers will easily take you apart.

I suspect that fighting games are not my genre. Blade Symphony was an interesting experience, and it was definitely good to get out of my comfort zone, but Rocky Balboa or Daniel Larusso I am not. I do not have the "eye of the tiger," nor am I "the best around." While I do have a certain degree of stubborn determination, it's more of the "able to endure hardship until things magically turn around" variety.

So, I think I'll have to end my fighting career at the bottom. Here's to the oak league, we may be the worst, but we wear it well!