Volume 1, Entry 48: Connect Player 2
Back in March when the pandemic as we know it began, I made two on-a-whim purchases within the first weeks. Both were video games: first I purchased MLB: The Show 20 and, a few days later, I bought Animal Crossing: New Horizons. The former was an entry in a series I had played for years but rarely in the previous decade; the latter was my first exposure to the world of Tom Nook and Isabel.
I hadn’t played almost any video games across the previous decade that weren’t Pokémon titles or mind-numbing iPhone games, but both games became staples of my daily routine for the months that followed. Each morning from my purchase date to the first day of school in August included 30-45 minutes of tasks on ACNH, and every evening for almost four months featured a single game of an Oakland Athletics franchise on The Show. The vibes of simulated island life calmed me in the morning, my animated avatar developing a routine that passed time, and the sounds of simulated baseball brought comfort while waiting for the real season to finally start.
When school began in August, though, I stopped playing. I haven’t even opened my Switch since then—my animal neighbors must be concerned—and I haven’t powered up MLB: The Show since July, my Oakland A’s franchise likely ending with a 91-0 record (yes, I kept the difficulty low and just whaled on the computer). Despite not lifting a controller or booting a console, though, video games have remained a part of my daily routine in a way that they haven’t since before my brother and I got our first console, an original NES.
Before we convinced our parents to let us have any video games, playing games was an activity limited to friends’ houses. Inevitably, we would be visiting a friend’s home and only there would we get to put our hands on a controller or get to marvel at the graphics of the latest Super Nintendo game. There were entire worlds we only explored on friends’ couches. Eventually we would get our consoles and begin falling in love with Mario and the Donkey Kong Country series, of course, but the challenge of being late to the game was this: we sucked at the games. I wasn’t capable of jumping in and not destroying progress or crashing woefully into walls so I often simply watched others play of asked our longtime babysitter, Kellie, to beat games and levels for us.
If this sounds like something that would get old, it wasn’t. Remembering third and fourth grade, I probably slept over at my close friend Joey’s house a few dozen times, as I would through high school. We did so many things during those sleepovers from swimming and making silly home movies to watching films late into the night, but many times we played video games...with me watching Joey take down whatever challenging cartridge he had in front of him.
Understanding my own limitations, I enjoyed seeing Joey tackle these challenges, marveling while he narrated their stories to me about games I would never play or understand. There was no internet connection for either of us yet, so being a fan of something could be a lonely experience—and gaming certainly was. But, to sit on one of the cool wooden seats at the Penney’s and watch Joey play never left me feeling excluded; I felt like we were playing the games together, even though only one of us had the dexterity to handle the controller.
Joey seemed to understand this, too. While there were nights where “we” played Final Fantasy and I just nodded my way through story and gameplay beyond my comprehension, other times he let me choose the game and I, already obsessed with platformers, always chose Disney’s The Magical Quest that featured Mickey Mouse navigating a world in pursuit of kidnapped Pluto and Goofy. This silly game is etched in my mind: Mickey in a firefighter suit in a lava level, an awkward snowboard-looking ice boss, jumping through vines, and, of course, Joey always defeating the game “with” me. We must have played through it four or five separate times because he actually gave me the game cartridge when we moved after fourth grade as a going-away present that I most-definitely still have.
As I got older, I did become a more-adept gamer, with some decent accomplishments across a few titles (emulator Darkwing Duck no-damage speed runs, Modnation Racers leaderboards, and DKC3 exhibitions among them) but games were solo exercises, just as they have been in 2020. I played them alone—even those games meant to be played socially. Those rare occasions when Tom and I would play together became only rarer, and a session on the Wii with Matt or a max-out-the score challenge with Kathryn on New Years being outliers to my experiences.
I came to enjoy video games not just because of their inherent aesthetic beauty or the contrived challenges of problem-solving they presented but because of those nights playing alongside Joey, talking about games but also life while the game progressed in front of me. They were a dimension of friendship, a staple of the social life I led and one of the strongest friendships I ever built. Thinking back to those sleepovers brings me warmth, but also a realization that, while games have remained enjoyable releases for me, they’ve never been the same as playing with Joey, my sense of accomplishment at defeating something like Yooka-Laylee alone never as thrilling as watching Joey take down Pete as Mickey. Having his voice and presence there was the draw, not just the interactive images on the screen.
Which brings me to now, a time when I am physically alone for 163/168 hours each week. Although classes this term feel more social than before—shout out to the 50-70% in BC with their cameras on—they are still overwhelmingly silent, meaning my house is filled with almost no voices except my own during class.
And yet: I have found a way that staves off the feeling of loneliness through video gaming, even while never powering up a console.
Through an accidental click or two during the summer, I stumbled into YouTube’s gaming world and began watching almost-exclusively NBA 2K career simulations on the channel of Clique Productions, a class of 2020 grad in New York whose channel blew up; I still watch everything he makes, but his videos led me to KOT4Q, a channel run by Kenny Beecham. Kenny does shorter simulations and takes challenges from viewers and, through every step of the way, talks to the camera and laughs at his own decisions. Kenny posts frequently as he plays, but also posts videos of himself reacting to NBA news and opening things people send him.
Maybe that doesn’t sound appealing to you, but I watch all of it.
Every new video Kenny drops, I inevitably tune in. The game isn’t one that I’ve played much and basketball is a clear third sport in interest for me, but I’m watching as much for the gaming content than I am watching to have Kenny’s voice fill my home. I get on the treadmill and laugh as Kenny plays through a challenge and resists trading for Bam Adebayo. I pour my applesauce in the morning while Kenny breaks down the Chris Paul trade. I fill twenty minutes of silent lunch laughing along as Kenny unboxes cards while I eat my quesadilla.
I have literally zero connection to Kenny while he’s playing, and yet I feel better with his company. It’s like I’m relaxing and beating a game with Joey. Having Kenny on my screen short circuits the loneliness of being alone all the time.
Understanding the draw of Let’s Play channels and videos used to be a mystery to me. Why don’t these kids just play the games? I wondered numerous times. I didn’t see the appeal, and it didn’t make sense. But I understand now the power of playing alongside someone. It took months of isolation to remember that this is how I began and came to enjoy video games in the first place: talking with Joey as he vanquished whatever digital challenge the next cartridge presented.
Despite Joey being the sole architect of those victories, we still did it together—and this is the feeling that magically finds me when Kenny’s in the corner of my TV screen. A great friendship bloomed out of watching Joey play, but Kenny’s contribution to my life can’t be overlooked.
There are lots of reasons and adaptations that, looking back someday, I will point to as pivotal in getting me through the pandemic. There will be exercise and baking and the attendance form and writing a novel and, of course, walks with Alyiah and fire-put table meals and Mathletes meeting and weekly drive-thru visits to the Dairy Queen with my parents. But there will also be a new lingering memory of hearing Kenny’s voice say “We’re back!” and feeling like he’s talking with me.
I’m obviously grateful, so I’ve bought his merchandise and liked and subscribed dutifully before he can even ask. At some point I will surely write him a letter, no differently than I have (and will again) Will. I hope Kenny realizes what his voice does, not just for people like me but those hundreds of thousands of kids and people tuning in for his latest video. I’d bet I’m not alone in feeling Kenny is the friend I need around sometimes.
That my pinnacle gaming experiences have been watching Joey Penney and Kenny Beecham play video games 25 years apart is unexpected, but I’ll always be thankful for their company.
If you know, you know.
Content Consumption
FILM
Twilight (2008)
I planned to only include reviews here for films I watch for the first time, but, with it having been twelve years since I first (and last) watched this, I’m pivoting since I’m not getting to watch much otherwise. During the literary Twilight craze, I read all four books (plus the off-shoot novella) and I really enjoyed them as a member of Team Jacob mostly because Rover didn’t have 100 post-pandemic years to refine his moves. Because the novels are in the first person, the films were always gonna be fighting a losing battle, having to force out words that belonged in Bella’s head, and...well, yeah, the film has some of the worst dialogue imaginable with minimal rhythm in any scene (I honestly think that Taylor Lautner’s lines as Jacob were among the few that sounded fluid). This adaptation of Twilight follows angsty Bella (Kristen Stewart) and brooding vampire Edward (Robert Pattinson) meeting for the first time. Set against an investigation into gruesome killings in the area—which the film stages with decent menace—led by Bella’s laconic father Charlie (Billy Burke) and fully taking advantage of dreary overcast Pacific northwestern naturescapes, the romance is hokey and uninspected but the cast is likable and features some big faces in early roles (I’d forgotten that Anna Kendrick is here!). I know the story of the first two books too well to do any sort of deep dive into this one, but I will say that I found it impressively committed to its melodramatic, angst-inducing tone, rarely letting Stewart so much as smile, and the strong soundtrack seemed designed to hammer that feeling home. I found myself trying to imagine Twilight told with lighthearted teen comedy (my mind desperately wanting a better script for the talented cast) but, alas: none of the iterations I imagined were actually Twilight. This is Twilight: an escapist romantic fantasy that doesn’t fully make sense if I squint at it but isn’t so offense—dialogue aside—to force me to abandon my plan to watch all five this time (after never watching past New Moon when they released). I do look forward to the inevitable Twilight Netflix series one decade from now, but I’m also looking forward to watching what follows here with an older, more experienced eye. Onto New Moon to see if I still root for the wrong guy!
Twilight Saga: New Moon (2009)
In looking up the year of release before writing this, I felt much more engaged in my Twilight-challenge because New Moon is the book and story that made me a fan. This is the stakes rising; this is Bella and Jacob (Kristen Stewart and Taylor Lautner); this is the wolf stuff beginning; this is bad bureaucrats with a thirst for blood. This is the good stuff! And...it’s the lowest rated movie in the quintet and one that trusted fan-friends prefer to skip. With Edward (Robert Pattinson) out of the picture for her own protection, Bella falls into sustained depression; her friends are worthless (there’s a jarring scene where Anna Kendrick’s Jessica treats Bella’s mental health crisis with shocking disregard that I imagine wouldn’t be written the same these days) and her dad (Billy Burke) is...himself...but Jacob becomes the friend she needs. Bella smiles! Bella repairs motorcycles! Bella makes jokes about vampire athleticism in the face of werewolves! It’s great—as is Lautner who continues to deliver lines sounding 16 and human rather than Pattinson’s Edward sounding...is it clear how much I dislike Edward? Maybe the script issues in the initial one were all just because Edward is so uncomfortable and awful? Hard to say! This is far from perfect, of course, but there’s escalation, the Volturi stuff expands the world and scope, and Jacob brings out humanity in Bella in a way that delights me (and wounds me when she won’t take his hand). This is the last one I’ve seen so from here they’ll all be fresh watches, but I have a feeling I’m gonna be disappointed in all of them because: New Moon is the peak for me.
Twilight Saga: Eclipse (2010)
I recall Eclipse as the “camping trip” book in which Bella (Kristen Stewart) literally finds herself trapped between the burning werewolf Jacob (Taylor Lautner) and the icy glitter-bat Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson). The vengeful Victoria continues stalking Bella leading to an uneasy truce between the vampires and wolves, but Bella’s graduation, potential wedding/turning, and an army of newborn vampires all lay before them. This story feels the weakest to me of the series; this is the foundation for the spectacle of Breaking Dawn still to come and a film that begins with a marriage proposal and ends with...an engagement ring. I certainly enjoyed the getting to see Jacob and Edward interact and I continue to feel for Jacob (sorry, I’m a dog person through and through) as well as find Lautner’s line delivery the best among the cast. (Am I looking for it or simply finding it? Hard to say.) I remember enjoying the backstories for Jasper and Rosalie in the novel, appreciating the opportunity to understand these peripheral characters a bit, but Jasper’s cinematic version was less than I’d have hoped for a Civil War soldier while Rosalie’s was a highlight here. These scenes of pure exposition and direct characterization, though valuable expansions of the right world around the Cullens and Quileutes, too often play as clunky in the Twilight Saga, and I simply keep returning to the same frustration that this was the best scripting they could manage. But I fear that I’m doomed to realize twice more (Breaking Dawn is two parts for some reason) that this is a saga best left to a first-person narrator in text.
Scoob! (2020)
Finding myself literally moved by the trailers for Scoob! that I watched in theaters before they shutdown, I was hopeful about an origin story of sorts for the Mystery Inc. gang and my favorite hungry canine sleuth. I was a big Scooby Doo kid, falling in love with A Pup Named Scooby Doo and Scooby Doo, Where Are You?—enough that my Cuddles the Seal math movies feature masked imposters and even Scooby himself on occasion—so this seemed right up my alley. The opening scenes that touchingly brought the team together worked, as did the beautifully re-rendered iconic theme song, and I was excited. And then...the rest of the movie was not that. Full of characters I felt like I was supposed to know well but didn’t, a supernatural story about Dick Dastardly and the Blue Falcon hijacked the Mystery Machine and left me feeling like I was watching the wrong movie. The script grew full of clumsy pop culture references (including a Tinder joke and multiple lazy double-entendres) that played like the results of a team trying to “work on multiple levels” like Pixar but struggling with the task. Dastardly (whose first name is absolutely used in some of that lame “adult” winking humor) has potential as an interesting villain, but his affection for his lost dog is always undercut by talk of treasure—and, in the most jarring moment of the movie, he forcibly decapitates an adorable, infant-like robot and melts its face. I watched that and felt like the entire scene was played for humor and utterly failed; Gru would never physically injure a Minion. There were certainly some fun moments and, truthfully, the movie was a visual delight offering numerous fantastic action set-pieces, but, if the movie’s called Scoob! and sold as a Mystery Inc. film, I expect a certain amount of mystery and not a story about the team to be swallowed by some crossover. Seeing Scooby and the gang gorgeously rendered made me hopeful that I might see these characters solving mysteries again—just definitely not in a script like this.
Too Funny to Fail (2017)
A pleasant documentary following the short-lived Dana Carvey Show on ABC, Too Funny to Fail revisits the show’s origins as an expected hit through to its inevitable cancellation after only seven aired episodes. Full of talented comedians before they became household names—Steve Carrell and Stephen Colbert got their breaks from it—the show was miscast from the start, with the network anticipating familiar silly impressions but the writers’ room aiming to push the boundaries of comedy. I watched this in two sessions across a few weeks, so it wasn’t engrossing but it was fun to see the gleam in their eyes talking about a decades-dead flop that was nevertheless work all participants remain proud of to this day.
I finished the novel last week on Sunday, typing out the final works of the epilogue. The worst is still yet to come—that would be revision—but I’m happy and proud to be finished with this one, although scared about what the initial responses will be. But thanks to so many of you for the support this past month with a challenge that was more massive than I expected.
If you’re approaching finals and interested in a few minutes of decompressing this week, Challenge Day’s facilitators are offering a Workshop for College Students that might interest you. It’s free on Tuesday, December 8th from 5:00 to 7:30 and you can register at this link if you’d like to give it a shot. I’ve only done the on-campus events and teacher workshops, but the latter is always refreshing.
Have a great week!
