How I learned to stop worrying and love being killed.
So they tell me I am not much good at introductions, I am told that my introductions generally fail the object of introducing my personality and character to individuals unlucky enough to gaze upon the random collection of words and letters that is my writing and make these same individuals experience a sensation best described as a 'murderous rampage directed at the author of these phrases'.
Luckily, in a game such as Team Fortress, such skills are highly praised and much admired.
In the dark days of my life that are sometimes referred to as the pre-steam era (yes, unlike many I do not deny this era of my existence) I was unaware of how to use this skill to its full advantage. I suspect this has something to do with the fact that I never played what in certain civilizations is referred to as a 'first person shooter'. The reason for this is quite simplely, namely that I couldn't hit an elephant's buttocks if it was right in front of it and my life depended on it. And I mean that in the non-proverbial sense. But as it does, time moved on and eventually I reached the most esteemed age of 25, in which a good friend of mine managed to convince me to try Team Fortress, he argued that in time, my skills might have matured naturally, that my innate sense of tactics, strategy, aim and survival might have come to bloom and that I should soon rule the fields of battle like no one had done since the invasion of Genghis Kahn into China. His arguments were logical, convincing and compelling and I was forced to accept their undeniable truth and enter this new era of gaming as a victorious warrior to be looked up to and be respected by all.
Naturally this is not at all what happened.
I believe my first game involved me standing around with a Pyro, trying to figure out how to upgrade my flamethrower so that I could actually hit that annoying little quick guy that kept being just out of range. I think I lasted a full 11 seconds.
Strangely however, I was not at all put off by this, I found the whole experience hysterical, which is, I suppose, the main strength of Team Fortress. Like me, it doesn't take itself at all serious.
In time, I obtained a minute amount of skill in the game, enough at least to stay alive for more than 30 seconds at a time. I managed to obtain much practice at getting my characters killed in ever more original ways. Occasionally I even managed to hit someone in return. I was quite impressed with myself. (No, you read that correct, I meant hit, not kill). After this, the game kind of stuck and I have been getting my proverbial behind handed to me by my friends ever since. To make a short story long, eventually I ended up on the Hampshire Heavies server by accident, where I found out that the game has a voice system (I honestly hadn't heard anyone use this before, this apparently is a skill quite rare) which was operated by individuals from the best country in the world, namely the British. Why, you may ask? Because unlike germans, french and dutch, the British have invented the much appreciated concept of Sarcasm. Of course, they then lose many more points by driving on the wrong side of the road, but luckily I don't live there, so this is no problem for me. As such, I stuck around and never really looked back.
Well then, I suppose some personal details are in order (as I said, I am bad at introductions), I am Zoltan Gramantik. Contrary to popular opinion, Zoltan is my real name, it's not a name I stole from 'Dude, where's my car' or whatever other film or game people might ask me about, my parents were actually cruel enough to bestow that name upon me at my birth. I am told it is an hungarian name, even though my last name is Greek and I live in the netherlands, where one half of my family comes from a little fishing village called 'Urk' (ask a dutchman, everyone knows about Urk and can tell you all the not-so-charming details).
In day to day life, I am a 26yr old 5th year medical student who currently spends his days torturing patients at the division of internal medicine of my local hospital in the simply wonderful position of intern. I spend all day poking, prodding, listening, and sticking needles into people. Man. I love my job. There are only very few professions where you get to stick a sharp, pointy object into someone's wrist, arm or thigh and the person will genuinely thank you for it afterward. The world is a strange place sometimes.
Well then, I do believe that I have been writing this lovely article for a good 30 minutes now, so I may conclude that this wall of text has become so daunting that no one will be able to work up the courage to read it. I for one believe this to be a positive thing, after all, inter-individual discussion leads to the construction of relationships that may provide moral qualms next time one of you fair gentlemen or ladies is in the process of dominating me. As such, I may conclude that I have achieved my goal and shall sincerely look forward to the next time my splattered intestines mess up your newly polished boots. May there be many such occasions.
Re: How I learned to stop worrying and love being killed.
Well, world is a weird place indeed, I do not love being killed. But thanks for this wonderful intro. May you have luck at being a good doctor. Btw, what class do you prefer? Is it medic?
Re: How I learned to stop worrying and love being killed.
Well, I do find myself spending a lot of time as a medic, but honestly that's just because it's one of the few classes that I can play decently with since it does not involve a whole lot of aiming. Alternatively I recently spent a lot of time as a heavy, engineer or scout (though scout honestly is only for the joy of being an annoying little gnat, I do believe I have yet to score more than 3 points in a game as a scout). Some classes I really can't play to save my life include spy and sniper (though, funnily enough I do enjoy playing sniper, if only because it's very relaxed to just stand back and miss consistently).
Wed Apr 07, 2010 10:42 pm
queed baller
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Re: How I learned to stop worrying and love being killed.
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