Sunday, September 16, 2012
Farewell, Eskimo Sister
Hey there everybody. Long time no blog.
Recent changes have demanded that I begin blogging again. However, since I'm going to be changing the emphasis of the blog away from Melee, and shifting it to competitive gaming and competition in general, this means I will be using a new URL. So this blog, as it is, has reached the end of its life.
I will archive everything on here and move it to the new site as well, in time. And this blog will still exist in cyberspace for viewing. But I'll be updating my NEW blog, twice weekly, typically with essays about competition and competitive gaming, include blurbs about the e-sports scene in general, and if possible, snag interviews from figures in the various gaming communities. So there will be lots more to read.
Don't worry, there will still be stuff in there about Melee. It's my game, after all :)
So if you wanna keep posted, bookmark or follow compete-complete.blogspot.com and my twitter @EskimauxRob so you'll know EXACTLY WHEN it updates. Because that's important!
Thanks a lot for reading.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Take a deep breath.
It has been awhile since I've written anything, silly posts on Smashboards notwithstanding.
I've become a bit better at Melee recently. Some of it comes from trying to be a better teacher regarding the game. It's hard to write or teach something you don't understand, and the process of helping somebody improve forces me to refine my own ideas more, and become more aware as a result.
A lot of it, however, has come down to a simple difference that helps me in tournaments and friendlies. If I start freaking out, or getting frustrated, or getting discouraged, I start breathing. Deep breaths, in and out.
I can't recall the source exactly, but I read something that said "if you want to control anything, you must learn to control yourself." And the first thing that you can control regarding your body and your mind is your breathing. Every martial art and meditative practice that focuses on self-control as the ultimate goal begins with breathing.
There's a pretty good reason. Deep breathing increases oxygen flow to the brain. It slows your heart rate and decreases nervousness. It increases your ability to concentrate. It gives you a moment to step outside of the situation and look at it like a spectator would--as most of us know, it's often easy to see the right solution to a problem provided it's not our problem.
So I started trying that, and I've found it's incredibly helpful. It hardly makes me invincible, but it's giving me a power that I haven't really had before; when I get tilted off balance during a set or a match, I can regain my composure. I make more comebacks. I stay stable even when behind and find ways to take back lost ground.
Repeated, very simply: to control your environment requires self-control, and self-control begins with breathing.
Give it a shot. Inhale through the nose, feel the air expand inside your lungs and diaphragm, then slowly exhale through your mouth. Wait a second, then breathe in again. Feel your heartrate slow down a bit, feel your thoughts come in slowly and more clearly. Then go do whatever it was you were planning on doing today.
That's all. Peace.
I've become a bit better at Melee recently. Some of it comes from trying to be a better teacher regarding the game. It's hard to write or teach something you don't understand, and the process of helping somebody improve forces me to refine my own ideas more, and become more aware as a result.
A lot of it, however, has come down to a simple difference that helps me in tournaments and friendlies. If I start freaking out, or getting frustrated, or getting discouraged, I start breathing. Deep breaths, in and out.
I can't recall the source exactly, but I read something that said "if you want to control anything, you must learn to control yourself." And the first thing that you can control regarding your body and your mind is your breathing. Every martial art and meditative practice that focuses on self-control as the ultimate goal begins with breathing.
There's a pretty good reason. Deep breathing increases oxygen flow to the brain. It slows your heart rate and decreases nervousness. It increases your ability to concentrate. It gives you a moment to step outside of the situation and look at it like a spectator would--as most of us know, it's often easy to see the right solution to a problem provided it's not our problem.
So I started trying that, and I've found it's incredibly helpful. It hardly makes me invincible, but it's giving me a power that I haven't really had before; when I get tilted off balance during a set or a match, I can regain my composure. I make more comebacks. I stay stable even when behind and find ways to take back lost ground.
Repeated, very simply: to control your environment requires self-control, and self-control begins with breathing.
Give it a shot. Inhale through the nose, feel the air expand inside your lungs and diaphragm, then slowly exhale through your mouth. Wait a second, then breathe in again. Feel your heartrate slow down a bit, feel your thoughts come in slowly and more clearly. Then go do whatever it was you were planning on doing today.
That's all. Peace.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Fun, Frustration, and Satisfaction
I remember a friend of mine asking me, while I was playing a particularly difficult game--the specific one escapes me at the moment--"why do you do this to yourself?" She was referring to the fact that, for at least two hours, I sat there swearing at the console without a break, just trying to conquer some difficult segment. Because, as conventional wisdom states, games are supposed to be fun. They are a form of entertainment, source of amusement. If they aren't, they are failures, or poorly made.
This, I think, is wrong. Games are not always fun. But this does not in any way make them bad games.
That's because games also provide another positive emotion beyond the sensation of having fun, which is satisfaction. It's a pretty simple formula: achieve a goal, experience satisfaction. The more difficult the goal is to achieve, then generally speaking the satisfaction will be greater as well.
Difficult boss fights where you die eleven times before finally winning can yield tremendous amounts of satisfaction. Competitive multiplayer scenarios, particularly one versus one, gives a lot of satisfaction to the winner, even moreso if the players are of equal skill. And that sensation of satisfaction is what keeps people coming back to certain games even when they aren't having the remotest trace of fun.
Then you have the adversary of satisfaction, which is frustration. Frustration is the obnoxious enemy that pushes you off cliffs and into pits, killing you in one hit that you didn't even see coming. Frustration is the boss that stun locks your character in a corner. Frustration is a difficult jump with a two frame window. Frustration is a cheesy rush in an RTS. Frustration is a timed underwater escort mission.
And while it sounds like frustration is something you should actively seek to remove from your games, it's important to understand that an element of frustration is NECESSARY for there to be any meaningful amount of satisfaction. As Snoop Dogg once said, "that which we obtain too easily, we esteem too lightly."*
Games that are too easy don't really satisfy people. Because fun is distinct from satisfaction, it's also mostly isolated from difficulty. It can be isolated from winning and losing. It can be isolated from doing anything at all, in fact! People have plenty of fun passively enjoying other forms of media, so it's silly to think that the actual game is necessary for it to take place. Fun comes generally from surprise, from the presentation of things we think are cool. Fun happens when you're playing a physics based flash game and you get nuked by a rocket launcher and your character spazzes out uncontrollably. At the end of the day though, the key difference between fun and satisfaction is that while fun is typically at odds with frustration, satisfaction relies on it and plays off it. This isn't to say something can't be fun AND satisfying; finishing off an extremely difficult boss fight with an awesome finishing move while you get to listen to a rocking electric guitar track would, I assume, be fun AND satisfying. I guess if you had to tack on an unneccessary definition to THAT emotion, you'd call the fun-satisfaction hybrid "exhiliration."
(It also bears mentioning that what people find fun and satisfying does vary from person to person)
This is, I think, where the terms casual and hardcore come in as they apply to games. Casual games focus primarily on fun, and hardcore games focus on satisfaction. Likewise, casual players focus on maximizing their fun from games, and if a game becomes too frustrating or just isn't fun enough, they will typically drop it. Meanwhile, more hardcore players will not even notice if they aren't having fun, provided that when they beat a level or win a round or whatever, they experience commensurate satisfaction.
Please note that I'm not really trying to pin any one definition down on any player or game. Some people become more hardcore about different games and endeavors. Certain games hit a decent middle ground, and some games have a variety of modes that appeal to both ends of the spectrum.
So what's the point here? Well, for all game designers who think this is actually worth paying attention to, look at it this way: games that have high levels of fun AND satisfaction will appeal to wider audiences and be more successful. But if satisfaction increases based on frustration and adversity, what's the answer?
For starters, you can try and turn the failure into fun. One of the primary tenets of a party game is that everybody is a winner in some form or fashion. And since you just KNEW that I couldn't go one post without talking about Smash, we can look at it as a prime example. Somebody takes first place in every game of Smash, and will experience some measure of satisfaction. But in the chaos of a four player game with explosions and crazy effects, most people--those focused on fun--will not really NOTICE failure and frustration provided the outcome is cool enough! Or, at the very least, the frustration will be heavily minimized.
How effective is this approach? Well, in the case of Melee, people still played it religiously (and we're talking outside of the tournament scene) for years and years after its release purely because it could provide fun and satisfaction for everybody involved. And the best part is, it didn't force people to play a particular way. This let the audience define its own experience, which is how the tournament scene was able to grow from a casual party game environment.
That element in itself is another excellent example of how to expand an audience; permit the audience to define its experience and allow a variety of options. Different game modes, difficulties and options let people decide how they plan to play the game. The difficulty of this is, of course, that you run the risk of spreading yourself too thin and you end up with a bunch of poorly realized features, none of which end up delivering.
Another way to mitigate the downsides of frustration is simply by having a good soundtrack. I believe that the reason older game music is focused heavily on catchy and simple melodic hooks--apart from hardware limitations--is that if the song wasn't catchy, it would drive people crazy to have to listen to it while they replayed the same levels over and over again.
More to consider: a game's frustration and satisfaction both need to be paced properly to create a proper emotional payoff. A level that is insanely frustrating followed by a boss fight that's as mind-bogglingly easy and boring as the stage was obnoxious has limited impact. It will typically create a sensation of, "what the hell, that's it?" when you win, followed by "well at least it's over..." And if people are saying "at least it's over" when your game is finished, then you've probably done something horribly wrong.
Let's go in a different direction now. One of the ways to enhance both fun AND satisfaction comes from, surprisingly enough, the game's aesthetics. Appropriate graphics and sound effects do have an effect on how fun and/or satisfying the game is.
Let's say you're playing Adventure of Action 3, Quest For the Thing. And you are running around beating stuff up with a wooden stick, which we will call the Newb Stick. It makes an amusing "bop" noise and when you kill things, they fall over. This is all pretty much in line with what you would expect a stick to do. It's not the most exhilirating experience in the world, but it's a stick so no big deal.
Now you find your SECOND weapon, the Punch Launcher (which launches punches). When you hit a Derp Goblin in the chin with it, it makes a metal "KCHANG" noise and the enemy does three backflips through the air. Suddenly, fun. Fun enhanced by multiple things: the new animations that clearly display progress and the new sound effect that vividly communicates the action. These aesthetic upgrades over your Newb Stick create satisfaction on multiple fronts; you can kill Derp Goblins faster, and the new method communicates an increased sense of power.
And if the animation is done well enough and the sound effect isn't horribly equalized or whatever, some players will want to run around ignoring level objectives just to hit stuff with the PL.
How could you ruin the Punch Launcher? If it made the same sound effect and had the same death animation for the enemy as the Newb Stick and the difference was purely in the gameplay element of having a projectile weapon, it would not be as fun or satisfying to use. Sure, you have the benefit of your new gameplay mechanic--a way to engage enemies from range. A lot of people say that all they care about is gameplay, and sure enough, the sound and the visuals don't have an actual effect on it. Their novelty will wear off after awhile. But that initial impression and hook are important to keep people playing your game and feeling those emotions that create a sense of progression.
And don't forget, the mark of a good sound effect is that it doesn't get annoying. An obnoxious sound effect is funny at first, but if you force a player to rely on an item with such aesthetics for an extended period of time, it will piss them off.
Good upgrade scaling is also important. Getting the Punch Launcher after the Newb Stick is great. Getting it after the Ragnarok Shatterbomb Cataclysm Thing? Eh.
Hope that was interesting. I have more to say on the subject regarding particular games and features, as well as the types of players, how they experience games, and what they expect from them. Look forward to the sequels!
Peace.
*I MAY have confused Snoop Dogg with Thomas Paine. But I doubt it.
This, I think, is wrong. Games are not always fun. But this does not in any way make them bad games.
That's because games also provide another positive emotion beyond the sensation of having fun, which is satisfaction. It's a pretty simple formula: achieve a goal, experience satisfaction. The more difficult the goal is to achieve, then generally speaking the satisfaction will be greater as well.
Difficult boss fights where you die eleven times before finally winning can yield tremendous amounts of satisfaction. Competitive multiplayer scenarios, particularly one versus one, gives a lot of satisfaction to the winner, even moreso if the players are of equal skill. And that sensation of satisfaction is what keeps people coming back to certain games even when they aren't having the remotest trace of fun.
Then you have the adversary of satisfaction, which is frustration. Frustration is the obnoxious enemy that pushes you off cliffs and into pits, killing you in one hit that you didn't even see coming. Frustration is the boss that stun locks your character in a corner. Frustration is a difficult jump with a two frame window. Frustration is a cheesy rush in an RTS. Frustration is a timed underwater escort mission.
And while it sounds like frustration is something you should actively seek to remove from your games, it's important to understand that an element of frustration is NECESSARY for there to be any meaningful amount of satisfaction. As Snoop Dogg once said, "that which we obtain too easily, we esteem too lightly."*
Games that are too easy don't really satisfy people. Because fun is distinct from satisfaction, it's also mostly isolated from difficulty. It can be isolated from winning and losing. It can be isolated from doing anything at all, in fact! People have plenty of fun passively enjoying other forms of media, so it's silly to think that the actual game is necessary for it to take place. Fun comes generally from surprise, from the presentation of things we think are cool. Fun happens when you're playing a physics based flash game and you get nuked by a rocket launcher and your character spazzes out uncontrollably. At the end of the day though, the key difference between fun and satisfaction is that while fun is typically at odds with frustration, satisfaction relies on it and plays off it. This isn't to say something can't be fun AND satisfying; finishing off an extremely difficult boss fight with an awesome finishing move while you get to listen to a rocking electric guitar track would, I assume, be fun AND satisfying. I guess if you had to tack on an unneccessary definition to THAT emotion, you'd call the fun-satisfaction hybrid "exhiliration."
(It also bears mentioning that what people find fun and satisfying does vary from person to person)
This is, I think, where the terms casual and hardcore come in as they apply to games. Casual games focus primarily on fun, and hardcore games focus on satisfaction. Likewise, casual players focus on maximizing their fun from games, and if a game becomes too frustrating or just isn't fun enough, they will typically drop it. Meanwhile, more hardcore players will not even notice if they aren't having fun, provided that when they beat a level or win a round or whatever, they experience commensurate satisfaction.
Please note that I'm not really trying to pin any one definition down on any player or game. Some people become more hardcore about different games and endeavors. Certain games hit a decent middle ground, and some games have a variety of modes that appeal to both ends of the spectrum.
So what's the point here? Well, for all game designers who think this is actually worth paying attention to, look at it this way: games that have high levels of fun AND satisfaction will appeal to wider audiences and be more successful. But if satisfaction increases based on frustration and adversity, what's the answer?
For starters, you can try and turn the failure into fun. One of the primary tenets of a party game is that everybody is a winner in some form or fashion. And since you just KNEW that I couldn't go one post without talking about Smash, we can look at it as a prime example. Somebody takes first place in every game of Smash, and will experience some measure of satisfaction. But in the chaos of a four player game with explosions and crazy effects, most people--those focused on fun--will not really NOTICE failure and frustration provided the outcome is cool enough! Or, at the very least, the frustration will be heavily minimized.
How effective is this approach? Well, in the case of Melee, people still played it religiously (and we're talking outside of the tournament scene) for years and years after its release purely because it could provide fun and satisfaction for everybody involved. And the best part is, it didn't force people to play a particular way. This let the audience define its own experience, which is how the tournament scene was able to grow from a casual party game environment.
That element in itself is another excellent example of how to expand an audience; permit the audience to define its experience and allow a variety of options. Different game modes, difficulties and options let people decide how they plan to play the game. The difficulty of this is, of course, that you run the risk of spreading yourself too thin and you end up with a bunch of poorly realized features, none of which end up delivering.
Another way to mitigate the downsides of frustration is simply by having a good soundtrack. I believe that the reason older game music is focused heavily on catchy and simple melodic hooks--apart from hardware limitations--is that if the song wasn't catchy, it would drive people crazy to have to listen to it while they replayed the same levels over and over again.
More to consider: a game's frustration and satisfaction both need to be paced properly to create a proper emotional payoff. A level that is insanely frustrating followed by a boss fight that's as mind-bogglingly easy and boring as the stage was obnoxious has limited impact. It will typically create a sensation of, "what the hell, that's it?" when you win, followed by "well at least it's over..." And if people are saying "at least it's over" when your game is finished, then you've probably done something horribly wrong.
Let's go in a different direction now. One of the ways to enhance both fun AND satisfaction comes from, surprisingly enough, the game's aesthetics. Appropriate graphics and sound effects do have an effect on how fun and/or satisfying the game is.
Let's say you're playing Adventure of Action 3, Quest For the Thing. And you are running around beating stuff up with a wooden stick, which we will call the Newb Stick. It makes an amusing "bop" noise and when you kill things, they fall over. This is all pretty much in line with what you would expect a stick to do. It's not the most exhilirating experience in the world, but it's a stick so no big deal.
Now you find your SECOND weapon, the Punch Launcher (which launches punches). When you hit a Derp Goblin in the chin with it, it makes a metal "KCHANG" noise and the enemy does three backflips through the air. Suddenly, fun. Fun enhanced by multiple things: the new animations that clearly display progress and the new sound effect that vividly communicates the action. These aesthetic upgrades over your Newb Stick create satisfaction on multiple fronts; you can kill Derp Goblins faster, and the new method communicates an increased sense of power.
And if the animation is done well enough and the sound effect isn't horribly equalized or whatever, some players will want to run around ignoring level objectives just to hit stuff with the PL.
How could you ruin the Punch Launcher? If it made the same sound effect and had the same death animation for the enemy as the Newb Stick and the difference was purely in the gameplay element of having a projectile weapon, it would not be as fun or satisfying to use. Sure, you have the benefit of your new gameplay mechanic--a way to engage enemies from range. A lot of people say that all they care about is gameplay, and sure enough, the sound and the visuals don't have an actual effect on it. Their novelty will wear off after awhile. But that initial impression and hook are important to keep people playing your game and feeling those emotions that create a sense of progression.
And don't forget, the mark of a good sound effect is that it doesn't get annoying. An obnoxious sound effect is funny at first, but if you force a player to rely on an item with such aesthetics for an extended period of time, it will piss them off.
Good upgrade scaling is also important. Getting the Punch Launcher after the Newb Stick is great. Getting it after the Ragnarok Shatterbomb Cataclysm Thing? Eh.
Hope that was interesting. I have more to say on the subject regarding particular games and features, as well as the types of players, how they experience games, and what they expect from them. Look forward to the sequels!
Peace.
*I MAY have confused Snoop Dogg with Thomas Paine. But I doubt it.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Implementation Lag
First, this post is coming fresh from Genesis 2, which was pretty darn awesome. I got lots of advice, played lots of people, and realized what my next step will be in Melee.
I have mainly two people to thank for this. The first player is Lovage.
During our friendlies and tournament sets, I found myself making... mostly decent decisions. The problem is that I always seemed to be a few frames too slow, while Lovage was ALSO making lots of good decisions, but without any hesitation. So he had a tendency to get the shine or the aerial out just a little bit quicker than me, and I couldn't really figure out why. Was it a Fox thing, or were my reflexes just too slow?
And of course, there was the usual specter of my little technical flubs and clumsiness hanging over our games. But we'll get to that in a moment.
The second player I have to thank is Armada. First off, watching his games was pretty much a great experience. He is extremely sharp, makes intelligent decisions, rarely makes any technical errors despite playing at high speed, and he changes up his playstyle constantly. So he's like, pretty good or something.
But the reason I bring him up is because at one point I asked him what he thinks about while he plays, and he said, "nothing." He doesn't think about his tech skill and he doesn't think about winning or losing, he just plays in a blank mental state.
Which pretty much corresponds with what most people have said forever about... everything. The best mental state for execution and decision making--according to a variety of sources, from old Chinese dudes to modern psychologists--is one of emptiness. After a long enough period of training and practice, any given task turns into instinct for you. You do not stop to think, "I am going to swing my sword," but rather, thinking and doing become the same act! Or as close to it as possible.
So the title of today's blog becomes clear. Implementation lag is the distance between making a decision to do something and doing it. With training and focus, implementation lag decreases. I believe one of my problems has been a lack of focus during practice, where I will practice a variety of things sporadically. None of them become ingrained enough into my brain, which is why I always feel like my reflexes are so slow.
Furthermore, this is--I believe--part of why I make so many technical errors! Not only am I taking too long to think about it, but the conscious thought process interferes with the action and increases the likelihood of failure.
There are times, however, where I know EXACTLY what I will do given an opponent's action and my own speed surprises me. Stuff that I rarely mess up.
So today's big point is that if you focus on practicing things enough, and you rehearse them and understand them enough, you will act automatically when the appropriate situation arises. And the odds of you screwing up are lower, because you are not consciously thinking about it, which means your body can get on with things without your brain getting in the way.
This is where I want to advocate a practice method that really needs to be used more often--by myself included--where instead of just playing 4 stock matches over and over again, you set the mode to Time but make it infinite. This allows you and your practice partner to train certain scenarios without worrying about the outcome; you can play as Falco against a Fox that wants to camp the edge, or be a Marth that wants to stop Sheik from ledge-stalling, or just get someone to platform camp you for 30 minutes while you test out various solutions.
This method allows you to focus heavily on a particularly isolated aspect of the game and improve at it more quickly than if you only get the sporadic training that is characteristic of a regular match.
I hope these thoughts prove interesting and useful to you. I intend to start training a lot harder and more focused than I have before. It's kind of funny because it's actually all advice I've given in the past, but never really followed through on for myself. But this really does feel like my next step, and I hope to surprise everybody at the next big tournament with improved focus and tech skill from my corner :)
Take care everybody.
PS I did not proofread this. Sorry for all crummy writing errors.
I have mainly two people to thank for this. The first player is Lovage.
During our friendlies and tournament sets, I found myself making... mostly decent decisions. The problem is that I always seemed to be a few frames too slow, while Lovage was ALSO making lots of good decisions, but without any hesitation. So he had a tendency to get the shine or the aerial out just a little bit quicker than me, and I couldn't really figure out why. Was it a Fox thing, or were my reflexes just too slow?
And of course, there was the usual specter of my little technical flubs and clumsiness hanging over our games. But we'll get to that in a moment.
The second player I have to thank is Armada. First off, watching his games was pretty much a great experience. He is extremely sharp, makes intelligent decisions, rarely makes any technical errors despite playing at high speed, and he changes up his playstyle constantly. So he's like, pretty good or something.
But the reason I bring him up is because at one point I asked him what he thinks about while he plays, and he said, "nothing." He doesn't think about his tech skill and he doesn't think about winning or losing, he just plays in a blank mental state.
Which pretty much corresponds with what most people have said forever about... everything. The best mental state for execution and decision making--according to a variety of sources, from old Chinese dudes to modern psychologists--is one of emptiness. After a long enough period of training and practice, any given task turns into instinct for you. You do not stop to think, "I am going to swing my sword," but rather, thinking and doing become the same act! Or as close to it as possible.
So the title of today's blog becomes clear. Implementation lag is the distance between making a decision to do something and doing it. With training and focus, implementation lag decreases. I believe one of my problems has been a lack of focus during practice, where I will practice a variety of things sporadically. None of them become ingrained enough into my brain, which is why I always feel like my reflexes are so slow.
Furthermore, this is--I believe--part of why I make so many technical errors! Not only am I taking too long to think about it, but the conscious thought process interferes with the action and increases the likelihood of failure.
There are times, however, where I know EXACTLY what I will do given an opponent's action and my own speed surprises me. Stuff that I rarely mess up.
So today's big point is that if you focus on practicing things enough, and you rehearse them and understand them enough, you will act automatically when the appropriate situation arises. And the odds of you screwing up are lower, because you are not consciously thinking about it, which means your body can get on with things without your brain getting in the way.
This is where I want to advocate a practice method that really needs to be used more often--by myself included--where instead of just playing 4 stock matches over and over again, you set the mode to Time but make it infinite. This allows you and your practice partner to train certain scenarios without worrying about the outcome; you can play as Falco against a Fox that wants to camp the edge, or be a Marth that wants to stop Sheik from ledge-stalling, or just get someone to platform camp you for 30 minutes while you test out various solutions.
This method allows you to focus heavily on a particularly isolated aspect of the game and improve at it more quickly than if you only get the sporadic training that is characteristic of a regular match.
I hope these thoughts prove interesting and useful to you. I intend to start training a lot harder and more focused than I have before. It's kind of funny because it's actually all advice I've given in the past, but never really followed through on for myself. But this really does feel like my next step, and I hope to surprise everybody at the next big tournament with improved focus and tech skill from my corner :)
Take care everybody.
PS I did not proofread this. Sorry for all crummy writing errors.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Critical Hits
Not all mistakes are created equal. A Peach getting hit by a soft Sheik b-air while on a platform and taking needless damage is an error. Messing up a powershielded laser against Falco is another error. They cost you a bit of percent, but they generally aren't that big of a deal.
On the other hand, missing a tech against a Pikachu on FD when you're playing as Fox is a HUGE mistake because he's going to CG you from zero to death. Letting Puff u-tilt you at 10 percent without CC'ing it is big mistake. Falco burning his double jump somewhere, then finding himself beneath the edge of the level is a massive mistake. These are the kinds of errors that will cost you an entire stock in the blink of an eye. So, to repeat: not all mistakes are equal.
Look at this from two perspectives. First, as a player, your goal in a match is to AVOID those critical mistakes. Knowing the matchup that you're playing is pivotal for this reason, because it tells you what mistakes are huge, earth shattering, game costing errors, and which ones are not. And that will generally give you information about how you should be playing your matchup! You can also learn ways to reduce certain openings and minimize damage on you; CCing, DI'ing combos so they can't land efficient finishers, and just staying in positions where your opponent can't land combo starting moves. It's an underrated defensive skill, but minimizing damage to yourself is something a lot of good players have. It's why you don't see them get hit by lots of stock ending combos; not just because they don't get hit, but because they are good at minimizing damage through intelligent decision-making.
Second, your OPPONENT will be making these mistakes as well. Knowing what they are and knowing how to capitalize efficiently can make you a nightmare to play against in those matchups, because it creates an ever-present threat that any mistake can end the stock. M2K's Marth against Fox or Falco, for instance, is one of the most shining examples of this. He practically earned a living by chain grabbing, comboing, and gimping spacies off the most inoccuous of hits. Of course, this earned him a reputation for "playing gay," but when you get right down to it, every player wishes they could be as efficient at murdering Fox and Falco as M2K was. It meant that every match against him was close, even if you were 3 stocks ahead, because you were always a few mistakes away from losing the game. So not only is it a skill to see these mistakes and capitalize, but it's also a skill to convert smaller errors and openings into bigger ones with good resets and reads.
Remember, your job--and your opponent's!--is to turn every hit into a stock when possible. Likewise, you also must avoid letting little openings snowball into bigger ones, and learn how to read when your opponent is going for big punishes so you can dodge them.
Sometimes stock-ending decisions can just come from a really solid read. They aren't necessarily mistakes, but simply positions where certain options have nasty consequences if the other guy guesses right. In this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qwKHr-5wyk#t=6m59s
I hit ARC with an f-smash, and read his up+b to the edge, and just go for an edgehog at 54 percent. It's not really an error on his part; getting the edge is an excellent idea for spacies, and up+b'ing high can give them lots of recovery options. But if you can get the read in a critical situation like that, you can take stocks without even touching the other guy. Then my next stock on him is him allowing the ICs to land a synchronized grab near the edge, then not escaping the d-throw d-air, two pretty big errors for a space animal to make in that matchup.
One of the nice things about landing these critical hits is that they have a tendency to send the other guy on tilt. It gets him thinking that you got lucky, that the matchup is stupid or lame, and that can lead to hasty thinking that lets you exploit more of these nasty mistakes. And again, the flipside is to understand that every matchup has these and it's entirely possible you may fall victim to them, and shake it off when it happens.
So, how can you get better at seeing these situations and capitalizing? Here are some general tips:
--if you have a chaingrab of some kind, you should spend some practice time trying to link your hits--even really stupid, lame, lucky ones--into grabs. Resist the urge to go for smash attacks as your finisher, and try to look for ways to extend your combos.
--if you have the option of sending someone off the edge, consider using weaker hits that will send them low, rather than a more powerful one that lets them DI upward.
--if your opponent really likes going for the edge, give them a little time to decide they're going to go there, then just take it from them.
--if your combo can either keep going or you can end it, mix it up! For isntance, a badly DI'd knee from Falcon can end the stock on a lot of characters at 40 percent, and if they're certain you plan to go for up-airs instead, you can cheese out a stock off one powerful hit.
Remember this and learn how to spot those really big mistakes in the blink of an eye, and soon you will need to go on a diet from eating too many free stocks. Good luck!
On the other hand, missing a tech against a Pikachu on FD when you're playing as Fox is a HUGE mistake because he's going to CG you from zero to death. Letting Puff u-tilt you at 10 percent without CC'ing it is big mistake. Falco burning his double jump somewhere, then finding himself beneath the edge of the level is a massive mistake. These are the kinds of errors that will cost you an entire stock in the blink of an eye. So, to repeat: not all mistakes are equal.
Look at this from two perspectives. First, as a player, your goal in a match is to AVOID those critical mistakes. Knowing the matchup that you're playing is pivotal for this reason, because it tells you what mistakes are huge, earth shattering, game costing errors, and which ones are not. And that will generally give you information about how you should be playing your matchup! You can also learn ways to reduce certain openings and minimize damage on you; CCing, DI'ing combos so they can't land efficient finishers, and just staying in positions where your opponent can't land combo starting moves. It's an underrated defensive skill, but minimizing damage to yourself is something a lot of good players have. It's why you don't see them get hit by lots of stock ending combos; not just because they don't get hit, but because they are good at minimizing damage through intelligent decision-making.
Second, your OPPONENT will be making these mistakes as well. Knowing what they are and knowing how to capitalize efficiently can make you a nightmare to play against in those matchups, because it creates an ever-present threat that any mistake can end the stock. M2K's Marth against Fox or Falco, for instance, is one of the most shining examples of this. He practically earned a living by chain grabbing, comboing, and gimping spacies off the most inoccuous of hits. Of course, this earned him a reputation for "playing gay," but when you get right down to it, every player wishes they could be as efficient at murdering Fox and Falco as M2K was. It meant that every match against him was close, even if you were 3 stocks ahead, because you were always a few mistakes away from losing the game. So not only is it a skill to see these mistakes and capitalize, but it's also a skill to convert smaller errors and openings into bigger ones with good resets and reads.
Remember, your job--and your opponent's!--is to turn every hit into a stock when possible. Likewise, you also must avoid letting little openings snowball into bigger ones, and learn how to read when your opponent is going for big punishes so you can dodge them.
Sometimes stock-ending decisions can just come from a really solid read. They aren't necessarily mistakes, but simply positions where certain options have nasty consequences if the other guy guesses right. In this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qwKHr-5wyk#t=6m59s
I hit ARC with an f-smash, and read his up+b to the edge, and just go for an edgehog at 54 percent. It's not really an error on his part; getting the edge is an excellent idea for spacies, and up+b'ing high can give them lots of recovery options. But if you can get the read in a critical situation like that, you can take stocks without even touching the other guy. Then my next stock on him is him allowing the ICs to land a synchronized grab near the edge, then not escaping the d-throw d-air, two pretty big errors for a space animal to make in that matchup.
One of the nice things about landing these critical hits is that they have a tendency to send the other guy on tilt. It gets him thinking that you got lucky, that the matchup is stupid or lame, and that can lead to hasty thinking that lets you exploit more of these nasty mistakes. And again, the flipside is to understand that every matchup has these and it's entirely possible you may fall victim to them, and shake it off when it happens.
So, how can you get better at seeing these situations and capitalizing? Here are some general tips:
--if you have a chaingrab of some kind, you should spend some practice time trying to link your hits--even really stupid, lame, lucky ones--into grabs. Resist the urge to go for smash attacks as your finisher, and try to look for ways to extend your combos.
--if you have the option of sending someone off the edge, consider using weaker hits that will send them low, rather than a more powerful one that lets them DI upward.
--if your opponent really likes going for the edge, give them a little time to decide they're going to go there, then just take it from them.
--if your combo can either keep going or you can end it, mix it up! For isntance, a badly DI'd knee from Falcon can end the stock on a lot of characters at 40 percent, and if they're certain you plan to go for up-airs instead, you can cheese out a stock off one powerful hit.
Remember this and learn how to spot those really big mistakes in the blink of an eye, and soon you will need to go on a diet from eating too many free stocks. Good luck!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Urgh
Another practice session, more mixed feelings.
I honestly can't make heads or tails of my tech-skill difficulties. I have to be honest with myself about some of my shortcomings and things that I need to work around in order to solve this problem: I have essential tremors, which basically means that my muscles are *always* jumping and twitching even when I'm really relaxed. It's not major (unless I'm really nervous or hungry), and I don't really have a problem doing any day to day activities, but it makes fine muscle control really difficult. It certainly doesn't help when I try to play piano in front of people, or Smash in competitive environments.
I also have to accept the fact that I'm horrendously ADD and that makes it hard to focus. I'll be playing matches, even important tournament ones, and not even be thinking about them at all. I can get a bit of a boost in concentration by drinking a crap-load of caffiene in the form of soda or an energy drink, or I can take Adderall, but unfortunately stimulants directly and negatively impact my tremors.
I've sorted out a lot of my mood issues, I think. I get frustrated but I've found ways to shortcircuit both my angry and depressive spells.
The question is, where do I go from here?
Last night I played about 7 hours worth of friendlies with DoH, and as usual I was all over the place. I would go one match nailing everything, feeling really good, and feel like I really understood how to interact with the game. Then the next game I would miss my jump button, randomly double jump with my joystick a few times, wavedash straight up (which doesn't actually work in case you were wondering) or accidentally overshoot my B button while recovering and brush the c-stick instead. Usually games were somewhere in between, but it's really hard to understand how I'm supposed to play when I can't actually interact with the game.
This is something I've struggled to explain to people many times. I honestly have times, entire matches, where I just can't do *anything*. I will try to dash and jump instead, I will screw up five wavedashes in a row by airdodging horizontally, I'll miss every L-cancel, I'll try to do a basic grab combo with ICs and just whiff my c-stick completely. I will be the first to admit that I make some really DUMB decisions when I'm under pressure, but at the same time many things that appear to be bad decisions are the result of me being incapable of doing things I want with the controller.
My recorded friendlies at APEX with Armada, for instance, showcase him absolutely raping me. And that outcome was not entirely unexpected, truth be told. But when I walked away from the TV and projector frustrated and people tried to calm me down by telling me "dude, it's Peach vs ICs, and it's Armada, relax," I wanted to tell them that they probably don't know what it's like to try and full jump an aerial and roll, then want to bring up their shield and jump out of it because they're spazzing on the joystick, then get raped while a bunch of people are watching and have no idea what my hands are even doing. At that point it barely matters who my opponent even is, I just don't know what the hell is going on.
Later Armada and I played more friendlies and they were significantly closer; I never actually won, but I was actually executing combos and moving more how I wanted to, and the end result is a bit more of what I expected/hoped for--him beating me 15/15 games, but me managing to bring him down to 1 and 2 stock in most of them. Against such a smart and consistent player, who is so skilled with a character I've always struggled against, that was a huge achievement and it made me feel much better about the tournament.
The real kick in the pants though, was my set of friendlies with Chu Dat. I went through a similar experience to my very personally memorable set with Axe, where I just wasn't screwing up tech stuff, I was thinking clearly, and I was relaxed but energized. I think at that time during those IC dittos I may have played my absolute best Melee ever, period, from a mental and technical perspective.
What frustrates me about experiences like those is that, while they are truly amazing in themselves, they make all my other experiences damaging to my confidence. Why is that maybe, once in an entire year, I can just zone in and play the way I really want to? Where I'm thinking straight and having fun even in the games I'm losing, where my hands and I aren't at odds with one another, where the game just makes sense to me? And then every other time I sit down to play, it's an exercise in inconsistency and frustration?
For the longest time I've been of the opinion that if a feat or mindset can be achieved once, then it can be duplicated. Back when I was a Fox player and I wanted really badly to learn how to SHDL, and I saw videos of Thunder from Japan just busting them out left and right across the level, I was convinced that I simply could not do it. That I never would be able to. Then randomly, while messing around, I did it (just with my thumb, without using two fingers to jump and fire, just my normal configuration). I stared at the screen and started jumping up and down all excitedly, and then I just tried to do it again for an hour and couldn't even get one and got dejected again.
But then I thought, "if my hands are capable of moving quickly enough to do that ONE time, then there's no reason they aren't capable of doing it again." So I practiced and just studied my hands and fingers while I did so, trying to figure out what I did that made it work, and then I got another one. And another and another and another. And soon I could do it over and over again, bolstered by that confidence that one time could equal a million times if I wanted.
Right now, I'm in that same state. Where I will have a moment thinking that this game makes sense, that I am a good player and I can do what I need to do to win, that if I went to a major tournament right now and played like this I would shatter my pools and make top three easily, even with the unbelievably difficult competition facing me. Then the next game I'll wonder how I've ever won any money at all, even at the smallest of tournaments.
When it comes to mindset and playing well, I've mostly achieved what I've wanted to achieve, and felt like I've wanted to feel. It's happened a select few times over the course of my entire career. So the question that I have been asking myself, over and over again, is why are those feelings so elusive? And why is it, that no matter how much I seem to practice and study and think and meditate and work, the only thing remaining consistent is my overwhelming inconsistency?
I dunno. That's what's on my mind right now. I know most people read this thing for my thoughts on the game but I guess today I'm just kinda whining. My apologies.
Peace.
*
Oh, also, I think I won't be doing any more of the Vlogs. Almost nobody's watching them and I'm kind of at a stage where I feel like my opinion on most stuff really isn't going to help people. I guess in the future if I really just feel like doing one I will, but for now I'm just going to abandon the idea. It was kind of fun though.
I honestly can't make heads or tails of my tech-skill difficulties. I have to be honest with myself about some of my shortcomings and things that I need to work around in order to solve this problem: I have essential tremors, which basically means that my muscles are *always* jumping and twitching even when I'm really relaxed. It's not major (unless I'm really nervous or hungry), and I don't really have a problem doing any day to day activities, but it makes fine muscle control really difficult. It certainly doesn't help when I try to play piano in front of people, or Smash in competitive environments.
I also have to accept the fact that I'm horrendously ADD and that makes it hard to focus. I'll be playing matches, even important tournament ones, and not even be thinking about them at all. I can get a bit of a boost in concentration by drinking a crap-load of caffiene in the form of soda or an energy drink, or I can take Adderall, but unfortunately stimulants directly and negatively impact my tremors.
I've sorted out a lot of my mood issues, I think. I get frustrated but I've found ways to shortcircuit both my angry and depressive spells.
The question is, where do I go from here?
Last night I played about 7 hours worth of friendlies with DoH, and as usual I was all over the place. I would go one match nailing everything, feeling really good, and feel like I really understood how to interact with the game. Then the next game I would miss my jump button, randomly double jump with my joystick a few times, wavedash straight up (which doesn't actually work in case you were wondering) or accidentally overshoot my B button while recovering and brush the c-stick instead. Usually games were somewhere in between, but it's really hard to understand how I'm supposed to play when I can't actually interact with the game.
This is something I've struggled to explain to people many times. I honestly have times, entire matches, where I just can't do *anything*. I will try to dash and jump instead, I will screw up five wavedashes in a row by airdodging horizontally, I'll miss every L-cancel, I'll try to do a basic grab combo with ICs and just whiff my c-stick completely. I will be the first to admit that I make some really DUMB decisions when I'm under pressure, but at the same time many things that appear to be bad decisions are the result of me being incapable of doing things I want with the controller.
My recorded friendlies at APEX with Armada, for instance, showcase him absolutely raping me. And that outcome was not entirely unexpected, truth be told. But when I walked away from the TV and projector frustrated and people tried to calm me down by telling me "dude, it's Peach vs ICs, and it's Armada, relax," I wanted to tell them that they probably don't know what it's like to try and full jump an aerial and roll, then want to bring up their shield and jump out of it because they're spazzing on the joystick, then get raped while a bunch of people are watching and have no idea what my hands are even doing. At that point it barely matters who my opponent even is, I just don't know what the hell is going on.
Later Armada and I played more friendlies and they were significantly closer; I never actually won, but I was actually executing combos and moving more how I wanted to, and the end result is a bit more of what I expected/hoped for--him beating me 15/15 games, but me managing to bring him down to 1 and 2 stock in most of them. Against such a smart and consistent player, who is so skilled with a character I've always struggled against, that was a huge achievement and it made me feel much better about the tournament.
The real kick in the pants though, was my set of friendlies with Chu Dat. I went through a similar experience to my very personally memorable set with Axe, where I just wasn't screwing up tech stuff, I was thinking clearly, and I was relaxed but energized. I think at that time during those IC dittos I may have played my absolute best Melee ever, period, from a mental and technical perspective.
What frustrates me about experiences like those is that, while they are truly amazing in themselves, they make all my other experiences damaging to my confidence. Why is that maybe, once in an entire year, I can just zone in and play the way I really want to? Where I'm thinking straight and having fun even in the games I'm losing, where my hands and I aren't at odds with one another, where the game just makes sense to me? And then every other time I sit down to play, it's an exercise in inconsistency and frustration?
For the longest time I've been of the opinion that if a feat or mindset can be achieved once, then it can be duplicated. Back when I was a Fox player and I wanted really badly to learn how to SHDL, and I saw videos of Thunder from Japan just busting them out left and right across the level, I was convinced that I simply could not do it. That I never would be able to. Then randomly, while messing around, I did it (just with my thumb, without using two fingers to jump and fire, just my normal configuration). I stared at the screen and started jumping up and down all excitedly, and then I just tried to do it again for an hour and couldn't even get one and got dejected again.
But then I thought, "if my hands are capable of moving quickly enough to do that ONE time, then there's no reason they aren't capable of doing it again." So I practiced and just studied my hands and fingers while I did so, trying to figure out what I did that made it work, and then I got another one. And another and another and another. And soon I could do it over and over again, bolstered by that confidence that one time could equal a million times if I wanted.
Right now, I'm in that same state. Where I will have a moment thinking that this game makes sense, that I am a good player and I can do what I need to do to win, that if I went to a major tournament right now and played like this I would shatter my pools and make top three easily, even with the unbelievably difficult competition facing me. Then the next game I'll wonder how I've ever won any money at all, even at the smallest of tournaments.
When it comes to mindset and playing well, I've mostly achieved what I've wanted to achieve, and felt like I've wanted to feel. It's happened a select few times over the course of my entire career. So the question that I have been asking myself, over and over again, is why are those feelings so elusive? And why is it, that no matter how much I seem to practice and study and think and meditate and work, the only thing remaining consistent is my overwhelming inconsistency?
I dunno. That's what's on my mind right now. I know most people read this thing for my thoughts on the game but I guess today I'm just kinda whining. My apologies.
Peace.
*
Oh, also, I think I won't be doing any more of the Vlogs. Almost nobody's watching them and I'm kind of at a stage where I feel like my opinion on most stuff really isn't going to help people. I guess in the future if I really just feel like doing one I will, but for now I'm just going to abandon the idea. It was kind of fun though.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Mindset, preparation, and bracing.
In Part 1 of my most recent video log (view it here), I discussed getting into the right mindset.
There's something I'd like to add to it, something I've touched on before, which is an element of mental preparation that I call "bracing." Bracing as in bracing for impact, for instance. The idea here is that, when you are mentally ready and accepting of a negative experience, its effect on you is lessened if not negated entirely.
For instance, you are a relatively new player about to go to your first big tournament. You hear that 3 of the top 5 players in the world are going to be there. Wow. You also realize that, as an unseeded player, your odds of running into them early are pretty high. But you decide you're going to go anyways, because you can see what it's like playing them.
Or you go to a smashfest with some really really good players that you rarely ever beat, and you lose maybe 95% of the games you play that night. But you have a lot of respect for these players and going into that evening, you know they outclass you and that you're going to be learning from them rather than winning.
So in either case, going to your tournament or smashfest, you are mentally prepared to lose, to be eliminated quickly, to have very few victories. Prepared as you are, the losses don't feel all that bad.
Better players could learn from this. There's an element of ego involved as you improve, where you start separating and classifying players by skill based on observation and past experience, and you decide that you rank above certain people and beneath others, and you're really good at X matchup and you never lose on Y level and so on. If they lose when they expect to, even pretty good players tend not to get upset. I mean, they knew it was going to happen and they played anyhow, so it's not like there's any mystery, right? However, when somebody is convinced they will win or do well and they don't, that's when self-destructive attitudes set in and people begin to crumble.
So here's the idea: if you aren't ready to lose, you aren't ready to play. If you're only going to enter the tournament because you think you'll get first, then mentally speaking you are not prepared. You are setting yourself up to make mistakes, get sidetracked, and lose your cool at important moments. You're creating the perfect environment to lose all the games you "shouldn't."
I'm not saying you should expect to lose, or you should *want* to lose or screw up. I think that defeats the point of competition, self-improvement, and striving to be better than your opponents. But I think it drastically improves your outlook and your ability to recover from negative situations when you understand that these things are in the realm of possibility, and that you are ready to play and have a good time regardless.
So here's a question: if I told you that at the next smashfest, or the next time you play, you would lose 20 matches and win zero, would you still be willing to go?
I've come to believe that if your answer isn't "yes," then you aren't mentally prepared to play your best.
Lemme know what you think. Peace.
There's something I'd like to add to it, something I've touched on before, which is an element of mental preparation that I call "bracing." Bracing as in bracing for impact, for instance. The idea here is that, when you are mentally ready and accepting of a negative experience, its effect on you is lessened if not negated entirely.
For instance, you are a relatively new player about to go to your first big tournament. You hear that 3 of the top 5 players in the world are going to be there. Wow. You also realize that, as an unseeded player, your odds of running into them early are pretty high. But you decide you're going to go anyways, because you can see what it's like playing them.
Or you go to a smashfest with some really really good players that you rarely ever beat, and you lose maybe 95% of the games you play that night. But you have a lot of respect for these players and going into that evening, you know they outclass you and that you're going to be learning from them rather than winning.
So in either case, going to your tournament or smashfest, you are mentally prepared to lose, to be eliminated quickly, to have very few victories. Prepared as you are, the losses don't feel all that bad.
Better players could learn from this. There's an element of ego involved as you improve, where you start separating and classifying players by skill based on observation and past experience, and you decide that you rank above certain people and beneath others, and you're really good at X matchup and you never lose on Y level and so on. If they lose when they expect to, even pretty good players tend not to get upset. I mean, they knew it was going to happen and they played anyhow, so it's not like there's any mystery, right? However, when somebody is convinced they will win or do well and they don't, that's when self-destructive attitudes set in and people begin to crumble.
So here's the idea: if you aren't ready to lose, you aren't ready to play. If you're only going to enter the tournament because you think you'll get first, then mentally speaking you are not prepared. You are setting yourself up to make mistakes, get sidetracked, and lose your cool at important moments. You're creating the perfect environment to lose all the games you "shouldn't."
I'm not saying you should expect to lose, or you should *want* to lose or screw up. I think that defeats the point of competition, self-improvement, and striving to be better than your opponents. But I think it drastically improves your outlook and your ability to recover from negative situations when you understand that these things are in the realm of possibility, and that you are ready to play and have a good time regardless.
So here's a question: if I told you that at the next smashfest, or the next time you play, you would lose 20 matches and win zero, would you still be willing to go?
I've come to believe that if your answer isn't "yes," then you aren't mentally prepared to play your best.
Lemme know what you think. Peace.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Progress?
So I have a few thoughts.
My blog is partially about the game and my thoughts on it, but also my journey towards becoming the kind of player I want to be. As most of you know, I struggle with a lot of different aspects of it; even though I've reached a decently high level, I still want to get better. But in truth, my real goal is this: I've had some amazingly positive mental and emotional experiences in this game that I want to recreate. States of focus and calm that made me feel... tranquil, yet energetic. Very focused but still relaxed. Basically it's "the zone" magnified.
Playing recently, my entire goal is to coax my mind into that state as often and consistently as possible. Unfortunately, I can't seem to maintain it for more than a short period of time, and afterwards I feel incredibly drained. I know I have an "official" (and I'm sure that means something worthwhile) diagnosis of ADHD-Inattentive, which is very frustrating to deal with, but what confuses me is if I do have such a condition, why I'm still capable of entering this state at times. The first time I ever experienced it, it lasted for hours; how does that jive with what I think I already know about myself and this mental state?
Playing for a long while yesterday I managed to get into that zone for maybe a few games out of a hundred. So on the one hand, I've been reaching it more often than I had before, even though it's still very infrequent. On the other, it's such a brief experience, and parting with that feeling is so bittersweet, that it's almost more upsetting to get it and then lose it than to play all day without feeling it at all.
My blog is partially about the game and my thoughts on it, but also my journey towards becoming the kind of player I want to be. As most of you know, I struggle with a lot of different aspects of it; even though I've reached a decently high level, I still want to get better. But in truth, my real goal is this: I've had some amazingly positive mental and emotional experiences in this game that I want to recreate. States of focus and calm that made me feel... tranquil, yet energetic. Very focused but still relaxed. Basically it's "the zone" magnified.
Playing recently, my entire goal is to coax my mind into that state as often and consistently as possible. Unfortunately, I can't seem to maintain it for more than a short period of time, and afterwards I feel incredibly drained. I know I have an "official" (and I'm sure that means something worthwhile) diagnosis of ADHD-Inattentive, which is very frustrating to deal with, but what confuses me is if I do have such a condition, why I'm still capable of entering this state at times. The first time I ever experienced it, it lasted for hours; how does that jive with what I think I already know about myself and this mental state?
Playing for a long while yesterday I managed to get into that zone for maybe a few games out of a hundred. So on the one hand, I've been reaching it more often than I had before, even though it's still very infrequent. On the other, it's such a brief experience, and parting with that feeling is so bittersweet, that it's almost more upsetting to get it and then lose it than to play all day without feeling it at all.
Without a doubt I play my best while in that state of mind, so the upshot of reaching that mental state a lot will be improved play, and maybe I'll have a decent performance and my next out of state event. But it's unlikely I'll go to one in the future, and it's pretty unlikely that mindset will sync up with any major matches I get, so I wouldn't be expecting too much from me.
This isn't really about winning or losing anymore. This is more about trying to understand my own mind and what it takes to hone it. I think I might be getting closer, but I can't really know for sure.
Oh well. I should be doing my next installment of the video log soon, maybe tomorrow after work. Take care everybody.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
VLog is live!
The first VLog is now up! It has been named Eskimo Brother because I suck at names.
You can go here to enjoy it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fg-M0HA0zx0
If you want a question answered in a future vlog, ask it in the comments or in the IC Blog thread on Smashboards. Thanks for sticking with me folks!
And sorry its quality is kinda lame. The video and sound, not what I say. That part's awesome. F'realz.
You can go here to enjoy it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fg-M0HA0zx0
If you want a question answered in a future vlog, ask it in the comments or in the IC Blog thread on Smashboards. Thanks for sticking with me folks!
And sorry its quality is kinda lame. The video and sound, not what I say. That part's awesome. F'realz.
Monday, January 3, 2011
...
I just watched the movie Waiting For Bobby Fischer, and it made me think about a few things regarding winning, losing, what competitive games do to you, and what we do to them.
Let me start by saying this: the more you add to a game, the more you take away from it. Not the game itself, but the event, the playing. Say you add sponsorships, crowds, tickets, merchandise. You add titles. You add a crowd. You add hype. You add rivalries and spectators. You add ego.
Adding these--not always, but often--subtracts from focusing on the game itself. The reason most people play a game, and devote themselves to its rules and intricacies and advancement, is for a single reason; they like the game. Sometimes the initial interest turns into a passion, an obsession. These people can't quit no matter how bad they think they want to. You think you quit, you'll be minding your own business, and then somehow somebody reminds you that the game exists and you are drawn back into it. You can't resist it. The only way to leave is if the fire dies down on its own. It's a trick candle of the heart.
Because to you, thanks to whatever weird genetic/cultural combination that crafted you, the game is just beautiful. Some games are fast paced, some are slow. Some require twitch reflexes and some require snail-paced planning. Some are intuitive and some are analytical, though just about all are really a mixture of both. Different games call to different people, and most of the time we can't help ourselves. We're weak to those games.
And it's kind of stupid, even. You started off playing for fun, and then you'll go off by yourself to practice for hours and you won't have even a smidgeon of fun, just so you can be a little bit better the next time you play. And sometimes the game drives you up the damn wall for whatever reason, and you can't help it. It's a habit. An addiction to play, because something in there is just too beautiful for you to let go of it.
Most of us want to be better for no reason beyond a simple inexplicable want. At least, initially.
This is where it gets weird and a little sad to me. You have the game, and you have the players, and it's pretty awesome all in all. But the moment you add things like hype, spectators, tournaments, championships, and titles, something both amazing and terrible happens. The spectators develop a sense of entitlement. They make demands on the players. They start dictating the shoulds and shouldn'ts of the game for the people who are actually playing it. They add foreign elements of pride and ego and territory into these events that, as far as the game is concerned, don't exist.
Players begin to worry about who is watching, and by the mere act of observation, the game is changed. Players act more aggressive or defensive. They become afraid to lose, in some cases afraid to win, or even to play at all. And then people start telling the players what to do. You have to play man. You have to win. Show them what you're made of, you're the best, prove it. No, don't play like that, give us what we want to see. You have to.
Says who? Who says anybody has to do a damn thing? The passion didn't start with somebody saying "you have to be amazing at this." It came from within. That passion is what got you up there, and then somebody else just encroaches on it. Who the hell are they to tell you what the game is about, and what you have to do when you play it?
But truthfully, I can't hate on the crowd because when you love the game, both playing *and* watching, then you can enjoy it no matter what you're doing. I love watching high-level play of most competitive events just because it's kind of awesome to see craft at its finest. To share the experience with other people who feel the same, to have somebody to talk about it with, just amplifies the experience of seeing players who are good and amazing weave magic with their chosen game.
And being good, being amazing, that really was kind of the root of the game at first, wasn't it? You loved the game and you wanted to understand it, and with understanding came more skill and with more skill came a new way to appreciate an old pastime. And some people just want to watch and enjoy it and sometimes it's not any kind of act of malice or spite or bias but it simply *happens* that the game changes.
But let's say you add a title. Suddenly you aren't thinking about the game anymore. You aren't playing for the sake of the game or yourself but because somebody put something else on the line. And while some people are immune to these kinds of pressures, most aren't.
You really can't account for how these things affect everybody. Some people like winning just because it makes them feel superior. Some people just want to be flashy, or some people just want to relax and have a good time. And the best part is that the game doesn't care what your intention is, so there is room for you to play how you want and for the reason that you want. And some people only play their best with those external pressures egging them on. Sometimes the game can only advance because people, in the desire to win and be better, use those pressures to push themselves to the next level. So who even knows.
What's the point of all this? Well, I tricked you, because you read all this way only to realize there really isn't one. I like crowds and hype and spectators and tournaments and championships and big games where everybody says "this is for all the cookies," and everybody screams and it comes down to the wire and the crowd is going nuts and you end up telling the story five times to the same person who doesn't even give a shit because you can't get it out of your head, it was that amazing.
But in some ways I also kind of lament it. Because there's something utterly fantastic about playing without a purpose or a target or a title or a crowd, where we aren't inflicting needless expectations on the players of the game. Where you can just explore the gamespace and go crazy playing how you want to play, constantly chasing that element of the game that set you on fire in the first place. And the irony is that when you combine the first and the second, when the players up on the big stage forget about the crowd and play like nobody's there, is usually when everybody in the room ends up winning.
Let me start by saying this: the more you add to a game, the more you take away from it. Not the game itself, but the event, the playing. Say you add sponsorships, crowds, tickets, merchandise. You add titles. You add a crowd. You add hype. You add rivalries and spectators. You add ego.
Adding these--not always, but often--subtracts from focusing on the game itself. The reason most people play a game, and devote themselves to its rules and intricacies and advancement, is for a single reason; they like the game. Sometimes the initial interest turns into a passion, an obsession. These people can't quit no matter how bad they think they want to. You think you quit, you'll be minding your own business, and then somehow somebody reminds you that the game exists and you are drawn back into it. You can't resist it. The only way to leave is if the fire dies down on its own. It's a trick candle of the heart.
Because to you, thanks to whatever weird genetic/cultural combination that crafted you, the game is just beautiful. Some games are fast paced, some are slow. Some require twitch reflexes and some require snail-paced planning. Some are intuitive and some are analytical, though just about all are really a mixture of both. Different games call to different people, and most of the time we can't help ourselves. We're weak to those games.
And it's kind of stupid, even. You started off playing for fun, and then you'll go off by yourself to practice for hours and you won't have even a smidgeon of fun, just so you can be a little bit better the next time you play. And sometimes the game drives you up the damn wall for whatever reason, and you can't help it. It's a habit. An addiction to play, because something in there is just too beautiful for you to let go of it.
Most of us want to be better for no reason beyond a simple inexplicable want. At least, initially.
This is where it gets weird and a little sad to me. You have the game, and you have the players, and it's pretty awesome all in all. But the moment you add things like hype, spectators, tournaments, championships, and titles, something both amazing and terrible happens. The spectators develop a sense of entitlement. They make demands on the players. They start dictating the shoulds and shouldn'ts of the game for the people who are actually playing it. They add foreign elements of pride and ego and territory into these events that, as far as the game is concerned, don't exist.
Players begin to worry about who is watching, and by the mere act of observation, the game is changed. Players act more aggressive or defensive. They become afraid to lose, in some cases afraid to win, or even to play at all. And then people start telling the players what to do. You have to play man. You have to win. Show them what you're made of, you're the best, prove it. No, don't play like that, give us what we want to see. You have to.
Says who? Who says anybody has to do a damn thing? The passion didn't start with somebody saying "you have to be amazing at this." It came from within. That passion is what got you up there, and then somebody else just encroaches on it. Who the hell are they to tell you what the game is about, and what you have to do when you play it?
But truthfully, I can't hate on the crowd because when you love the game, both playing *and* watching, then you can enjoy it no matter what you're doing. I love watching high-level play of most competitive events just because it's kind of awesome to see craft at its finest. To share the experience with other people who feel the same, to have somebody to talk about it with, just amplifies the experience of seeing players who are good and amazing weave magic with their chosen game.
And being good, being amazing, that really was kind of the root of the game at first, wasn't it? You loved the game and you wanted to understand it, and with understanding came more skill and with more skill came a new way to appreciate an old pastime. And some people just want to watch and enjoy it and sometimes it's not any kind of act of malice or spite or bias but it simply *happens* that the game changes.
But let's say you add a title. Suddenly you aren't thinking about the game anymore. You aren't playing for the sake of the game or yourself but because somebody put something else on the line. And while some people are immune to these kinds of pressures, most aren't.
You really can't account for how these things affect everybody. Some people like winning just because it makes them feel superior. Some people just want to be flashy, or some people just want to relax and have a good time. And the best part is that the game doesn't care what your intention is, so there is room for you to play how you want and for the reason that you want. And some people only play their best with those external pressures egging them on. Sometimes the game can only advance because people, in the desire to win and be better, use those pressures to push themselves to the next level. So who even knows.
What's the point of all this? Well, I tricked you, because you read all this way only to realize there really isn't one. I like crowds and hype and spectators and tournaments and championships and big games where everybody says "this is for all the cookies," and everybody screams and it comes down to the wire and the crowd is going nuts and you end up telling the story five times to the same person who doesn't even give a shit because you can't get it out of your head, it was that amazing.
But in some ways I also kind of lament it. Because there's something utterly fantastic about playing without a purpose or a target or a title or a crowd, where we aren't inflicting needless expectations on the players of the game. Where you can just explore the gamespace and go crazy playing how you want to play, constantly chasing that element of the game that set you on fire in the first place. And the irony is that when you combine the first and the second, when the players up on the big stage forget about the crowd and play like nobody's there, is usually when everybody in the room ends up winning.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Happy New Year, everybody!
I'm not really good at doing the whole ball-drop timing thing. But happy new years to the people who still read this thing (:
Also, I was thinking about maybe doing vlog stuff in addition to this so you can all laugh at my silly face while I say things. And I can emphasize my points and posts with meaningless hand gestures. We could do Q&A type stuff, I could just rant, and I would save this writing section for more analytical stuff.
Anyhow, to reiterate:
Happy New Year!
Also, I was thinking about maybe doing vlog stuff in addition to this so you can all laugh at my silly face while I say things. And I can emphasize my points and posts with meaningless hand gestures. We could do Q&A type stuff, I could just rant, and I would save this writing section for more analytical stuff.
Anyhow, to reiterate:
Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Two thoughts in a row!
Cons of living in Dallas, TX:
Only two people to smash with on a regular basis.
Pros:
Those two players are DoH and Darkrain.
So I spent the evening practicing with Darkrain, and I've come to a few conclusions. The first is that I'm not very good with Sheik.
The second is that the moment I start wanting to really win, I start playing awfully. And unfortunately, my strategy of trying to convince myself that "I'm going to lose, I will make mistakes, it's inevitable" and using that to keep my nerves down, doesn't work. I still get way too upset over my errors and my mistakes.
I think I was in a much better place years ago when my focus was exclusively on maintaining the right attitude while I play. I had a string of matches tonight where I was completely in the zone, and except for the occasional chuckle or "wtf was that" when something weird happened, I pretty much felt... blank. It was kind of nice. There was a moment where I thought, "I'm not really angry or happy," even though during those matches I was actually playing unbelievably well. I just KNEW the right thing to do in--it seemed like--90% of the situations. After about four or five games of this, I started thinking, "wow I've got it I'm doing really good heck yeah" and then it promptly faded and I went back to air-dodging off the level like normal.
I guess I'm going to try and stop thinking about anything except being calm and empty. Before I even play, work myself into a state of as little emotion as possible, and focus on staying in that place.
Only two people to smash with on a regular basis.
Pros:
Those two players are DoH and Darkrain.
So I spent the evening practicing with Darkrain, and I've come to a few conclusions. The first is that I'm not very good with Sheik.
The second is that the moment I start wanting to really win, I start playing awfully. And unfortunately, my strategy of trying to convince myself that "I'm going to lose, I will make mistakes, it's inevitable" and using that to keep my nerves down, doesn't work. I still get way too upset over my errors and my mistakes.
I think I was in a much better place years ago when my focus was exclusively on maintaining the right attitude while I play. I had a string of matches tonight where I was completely in the zone, and except for the occasional chuckle or "wtf was that" when something weird happened, I pretty much felt... blank. It was kind of nice. There was a moment where I thought, "I'm not really angry or happy," even though during those matches I was actually playing unbelievably well. I just KNEW the right thing to do in--it seemed like--90% of the situations. After about four or five games of this, I started thinking, "wow I've got it I'm doing really good heck yeah" and then it promptly faded and I went back to air-dodging off the level like normal.
I guess I'm going to try and stop thinking about anything except being calm and empty. Before I even play, work myself into a state of as little emotion as possible, and focus on staying in that place.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
I had a thought
People have a tendency to make mistakes when they are nervous. You know, people like me.
I also know that I play much better when I'm relaxed, and sometimes when I'm simultaneously relaxed AND into my match, I go into a very focused state of destruction.
So, it finally occurred to me to ask myself, what is it that makes me nervous? I typically make smart decisions, but when I start getting antsy, I also begin to just go for blind attacks. And I often screw them up technically. Nothing goes right. What is it that makes me so nervous and tense, even in friendlies?
For some people, it's not wanting to lose. I know that I hate losing, but it happens a lot so I'm kind of used to it. I'm also pretty used to the crowd booing against me, but it gets to me the most when I feel like they shouldn't be.
Recently, I went into work thinking "today is going to suck." But it wasn't exactly a pessimistic "everything is going to go wrong today," kind of thought. It had a more matter-of-fact spin to it. I was kind of tired, I had to work a lunch rush in the most hectic position, and I was scheduled with several people I didn't like working with. It seemed very likely that my day would not be a good one. That was my logical assessment.
For some reason, that day I didn't get angry about anything. The normal stuff that bothered me I just kind of took in stride, thinking "yeah, that's pretty much what I expected." When my workload lightened slightly, I thought "hey, this isn't so bad," and became energized, and actually did my job BETTER than normal.
Most people have told me that I need to have more confidence when I play. I think... this is kind of true, and kind of not. I DO need to stop beating myself up about random things that go wrong. But what I really need to do when I play, if I want to play better and win more, is stop thinking about winning. I've found that the closer I get to winning, the more nervous I get. The more I expect myself to win, the more my mistakes bother me, which snowballs into causing more mistakes.
I'm not really that scared of losing, especially not if I think it's likely. I remember going into my matches against Mango at APEX thinking that I was 99.9% likely to lose; I'd just watched him play Vanity Angel and pull out some pretty ridiculous combos with Falcon, even while hungover, so I was pretty sure that the real Mango was hiding in there somewhere, ready to jump out and yell "ahh, rape."
I went into that match with ZERO confidence and what's weird is that, not only did I win, I did it with almost NO technical errors. I made a few, sure, and I made judgment mistakes and in the end I only one-stocked his Mario with infinites legal, but then he brought out his Falcon (which had murdered me last time we played) and I three stocked it. Again, he was hung-over, so that obviously had a lot to do with it. But at the same time, the things I was doing were coming out right. No flubbed wavedashes, no botched short-hops.
My match against Silent Wolf was remarkably similar. I was sure that he was going to slaughter me because I'm just not that great against people who play really fast. And I was so certain that I would lose that I wasn't really that nervous to play. And I wound up winning pretty soundly.
I guess in a weird, counterintuitive way, I'm more nervous about winning than I am about losing. The more I remove victory from my mind, the more I focus on the moment. And I've been finding lately that--at least while practicing--my skill goes up when I tell myself "you're going to make mistakes." I stop worrying about them, stop thinking "I have to get this right," because I've already accepted the error in advance. And I DO screw up still... but now it doesn't bother me. I just think, "oh right, I was just hitting L too early because my fast fall didn't come out," and the error suddenly goes away.
Will this work in real matches? Time will tell. It'd be pretty cool if it did, huh?
PS: a big thanks to Unintentionally for reminding me of something I actually wrote awhile ago, about accepting the possibility of your loss beforehand while you simultaneously play as hard as you can to win. It seems I have outsmarted myself, lol.
I also know that I play much better when I'm relaxed, and sometimes when I'm simultaneously relaxed AND into my match, I go into a very focused state of destruction.
So, it finally occurred to me to ask myself, what is it that makes me nervous? I typically make smart decisions, but when I start getting antsy, I also begin to just go for blind attacks. And I often screw them up technically. Nothing goes right. What is it that makes me so nervous and tense, even in friendlies?
For some people, it's not wanting to lose. I know that I hate losing, but it happens a lot so I'm kind of used to it. I'm also pretty used to the crowd booing against me, but it gets to me the most when I feel like they shouldn't be.
Recently, I went into work thinking "today is going to suck." But it wasn't exactly a pessimistic "everything is going to go wrong today," kind of thought. It had a more matter-of-fact spin to it. I was kind of tired, I had to work a lunch rush in the most hectic position, and I was scheduled with several people I didn't like working with. It seemed very likely that my day would not be a good one. That was my logical assessment.
For some reason, that day I didn't get angry about anything. The normal stuff that bothered me I just kind of took in stride, thinking "yeah, that's pretty much what I expected." When my workload lightened slightly, I thought "hey, this isn't so bad," and became energized, and actually did my job BETTER than normal.
Most people have told me that I need to have more confidence when I play. I think... this is kind of true, and kind of not. I DO need to stop beating myself up about random things that go wrong. But what I really need to do when I play, if I want to play better and win more, is stop thinking about winning. I've found that the closer I get to winning, the more nervous I get. The more I expect myself to win, the more my mistakes bother me, which snowballs into causing more mistakes.
I'm not really that scared of losing, especially not if I think it's likely. I remember going into my matches against Mango at APEX thinking that I was 99.9% likely to lose; I'd just watched him play Vanity Angel and pull out some pretty ridiculous combos with Falcon, even while hungover, so I was pretty sure that the real Mango was hiding in there somewhere, ready to jump out and yell "ahh, rape."
I went into that match with ZERO confidence and what's weird is that, not only did I win, I did it with almost NO technical errors. I made a few, sure, and I made judgment mistakes and in the end I only one-stocked his Mario with infinites legal, but then he brought out his Falcon (which had murdered me last time we played) and I three stocked it. Again, he was hung-over, so that obviously had a lot to do with it. But at the same time, the things I was doing were coming out right. No flubbed wavedashes, no botched short-hops.
My match against Silent Wolf was remarkably similar. I was sure that he was going to slaughter me because I'm just not that great against people who play really fast. And I was so certain that I would lose that I wasn't really that nervous to play. And I wound up winning pretty soundly.
I guess in a weird, counterintuitive way, I'm more nervous about winning than I am about losing. The more I remove victory from my mind, the more I focus on the moment. And I've been finding lately that--at least while practicing--my skill goes up when I tell myself "you're going to make mistakes." I stop worrying about them, stop thinking "I have to get this right," because I've already accepted the error in advance. And I DO screw up still... but now it doesn't bother me. I just think, "oh right, I was just hitting L too early because my fast fall didn't come out," and the error suddenly goes away.
Will this work in real matches? Time will tell. It'd be pretty cool if it did, huh?
PS: a big thanks to Unintentionally for reminding me of something I actually wrote awhile ago, about accepting the possibility of your loss beforehand while you simultaneously play as hard as you can to win. It seems I have outsmarted myself, lol.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Frustration
Okay. I've been here before, in many respects.
Over the years I've improved slowly and painfully, then plateaued, wanted to quit, and forced myself through it. I broke through those walls and became better, even if it was only a tiny margin at a time.
I want to believe that I can still improve, and that I can finally break down this one barrier that's been eating me alive for so long, which is my technical inconsistency.
I can't seem to communicate to people just HOW BAD this problem is. I don't really get frustrated when I lose, I get frustrated when I play poorly. Particularly when I make lots of stupid technical errors that I shouldn't be making after playing for 6 years.
Things like trying to wavedash, and failing, then attempting to fast fall to avoid eating the aerial that I'm now in range of, and double jumping with my joystick. Or trying to waveland onto the stage, but just standing up; then when I try to wavedash back onto the edge so I can try again--and see if my controller doesn't need resetting or something--then I roll by mistake. Then I decide "whatever," and try to short hop and get the edge, only to full jump.
Somebody said that I make lots of bad decisions, and it's hard to explain to people that your decisions aren't really your own when your hands don't cooperate. I'm constantly at odds with my own body to actually communicate my desires to the game. Some games more than half of my attemped inputs come out as errors.
This is not an exaggeration. WD d-smash becomes WD f-smash because of a c-stick flub, followed by an attempted roll that turns into a spot dodge or jump because I spaz on the joystick. My next JC'ed grab is a full jumped f-air to which I then miss the fast fall (and subsequent L-cancel). Upon landing, I airdodge horizontally, failing to wavedash again. My next short hop n-air is a dash attack because I miss my jump button. And so on.
Again, not exaggerations; these are specific examples taken from recent smashfests and friendlies I've played. And when I tell people that I'm frustrated because these mistakes are getting me raped, they say things like "everybody has bad games." I am trying to explain that this goes beyond most people's definition of a bad game, and it happens with a consistency that people think I'm embellishing.
This would not be as big of an issue if I had some safe baseline to fall back on, some technical elements that I NEVER mess up so I can play safe while I calm down... except I don't. I cannot handle the controller without some risk of missing buttons or slamming the joystick in some random direction. Most people find themselves overreaching their tech-skill sometimes and saying "okay okay we'll tone it down." I cannot tone it down to an error-free level.
Sometimes this is clearly tied to my mental state; when I'm frustrated or agitated I often play worse, and when I'm calm and focused I typically play better. Durr, obvious I know, but yeah. However, even when I'm practicing solo in a relatively calm state I will still make these silly mistakes. When I'm nervous, in high-pressure tourney situations... well, most of you have seen what happens.
I have accepted that I don't really have a talent for this game beyond my obsessive nature. But this is at an extreme that I don't know how to cope with anymore; the amount of practice I invest does not seem to correlate at ALL to my technical proficiency, and I'm starting to lose hope. I come up with new systems and ideas to try and rectify it, but nothing's working. My past month-plus of dedicated practice, of going back to basics and hammering them in with constant repetition, has yielded absolutely nothing. I still screw up these fundamentals at a rate far beyond what is acceptable for any player trying to legitimately call themselves good at this game.
The worst part is that I can't just give up and call it quits because there's something inside me, a small petulant voice made of spite and ambition and idealism, that refuses to let me. I'm not going to keep playing if I honestly believe I can't get any better, and apart from this voice, that's what I'm coming to believe the more and more I practice.
tl;dr: bah. If somebody has any advice on how to fix this nonsense, please send it to me.
Over the years I've improved slowly and painfully, then plateaued, wanted to quit, and forced myself through it. I broke through those walls and became better, even if it was only a tiny margin at a time.
I want to believe that I can still improve, and that I can finally break down this one barrier that's been eating me alive for so long, which is my technical inconsistency.
I can't seem to communicate to people just HOW BAD this problem is. I don't really get frustrated when I lose, I get frustrated when I play poorly. Particularly when I make lots of stupid technical errors that I shouldn't be making after playing for 6 years.
Things like trying to wavedash, and failing, then attempting to fast fall to avoid eating the aerial that I'm now in range of, and double jumping with my joystick. Or trying to waveland onto the stage, but just standing up; then when I try to wavedash back onto the edge so I can try again--and see if my controller doesn't need resetting or something--then I roll by mistake. Then I decide "whatever," and try to short hop and get the edge, only to full jump.
Somebody said that I make lots of bad decisions, and it's hard to explain to people that your decisions aren't really your own when your hands don't cooperate. I'm constantly at odds with my own body to actually communicate my desires to the game. Some games more than half of my attemped inputs come out as errors.
This is not an exaggeration. WD d-smash becomes WD f-smash because of a c-stick flub, followed by an attempted roll that turns into a spot dodge or jump because I spaz on the joystick. My next JC'ed grab is a full jumped f-air to which I then miss the fast fall (and subsequent L-cancel). Upon landing, I airdodge horizontally, failing to wavedash again. My next short hop n-air is a dash attack because I miss my jump button. And so on.
Again, not exaggerations; these are specific examples taken from recent smashfests and friendlies I've played. And when I tell people that I'm frustrated because these mistakes are getting me raped, they say things like "everybody has bad games." I am trying to explain that this goes beyond most people's definition of a bad game, and it happens with a consistency that people think I'm embellishing.
This would not be as big of an issue if I had some safe baseline to fall back on, some technical elements that I NEVER mess up so I can play safe while I calm down... except I don't. I cannot handle the controller without some risk of missing buttons or slamming the joystick in some random direction. Most people find themselves overreaching their tech-skill sometimes and saying "okay okay we'll tone it down." I cannot tone it down to an error-free level.
Sometimes this is clearly tied to my mental state; when I'm frustrated or agitated I often play worse, and when I'm calm and focused I typically play better. Durr, obvious I know, but yeah. However, even when I'm practicing solo in a relatively calm state I will still make these silly mistakes. When I'm nervous, in high-pressure tourney situations... well, most of you have seen what happens.
I have accepted that I don't really have a talent for this game beyond my obsessive nature. But this is at an extreme that I don't know how to cope with anymore; the amount of practice I invest does not seem to correlate at ALL to my technical proficiency, and I'm starting to lose hope. I come up with new systems and ideas to try and rectify it, but nothing's working. My past month-plus of dedicated practice, of going back to basics and hammering them in with constant repetition, has yielded absolutely nothing. I still screw up these fundamentals at a rate far beyond what is acceptable for any player trying to legitimately call themselves good at this game.
The worst part is that I can't just give up and call it quits because there's something inside me, a small petulant voice made of spite and ambition and idealism, that refuses to let me. I'm not going to keep playing if I honestly believe I can't get any better, and apart from this voice, that's what I'm coming to believe the more and more I practice.
tl;dr: bah. If somebody has any advice on how to fix this nonsense, please send it to me.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Smash Workout
Warning: long post ahead. It's also rambly. Beware of "magical philosophizing."
So one of my recent hobbies--being pretty isolated in Texas, with me, Darkrain and DoH all being on completely different work schedules--is working out. Mostly I do a lot of bodyweight stuff, working my way towards one-armed pullups and pushups, hanging V-raises, one-legged squats, stuff like that. And, massive nerd that I am, I've thought about it and want to see what I can apply to Smash.
My most recent tournament, TO6, was pretty depressing for me for a couple reasons. One, I'd just taken 5th at APEX and had 3 1st place finishes in tournaments before that, all of them with pretty stiff competition. I had high expectations for myself, I took 4 days off work to go, and I wasn't playing as well as I liked. That and having the entire crowd against me put me in a bad mood. I lost to Raku, a Sheik player--who was surprisingly good, truthfully, he deserved his win 100%--and thanks to my high expectations that put me in an even worse mood. I went to loser's and started off by getting stomped by RockCrock, and ended up quitting. You can call it a rage-quit I guess, but it was a quit meant to pre-empt rage. I promised myself awhile ago that if I started getting too frustrated during matches I would just forfeit before reaching a point of no-return on my anger.
So after a lot of thought I decided that my main weakness is--and has always been--my technical skill. I don't make perfect guesses and decisions 100% of the time, but often I still screw up when I do, which is a big part of why I rely on simple chaingrabs and such; I'm incredibly inconsistent across the board, and the grab-game is the easiest for me to execute, so naturally I gravitate to it. But I've been using it as a crutch for far too long, and I decided that if technical inconsistency is my biggest weakness, I will just have to train my ass off to turn it into my biggest strength. If I can couple that with my generally smart play, then I'll be a much stronger player as a result.
But how to train? How can one develop technical skill? What is it?
For starters, I think technical skill--the kind that really matters--boils down to consistency. It's not the ability to sprint, but to run a marathon. To keep a consistent pace the entire match long so that even if you can't take advantage of every tiny opening with blinding flashy speed, you can give nothing away through mistakes. And, once you can run the marathon, to improve your time. Or, if we're going to compare it to a weight workout, we're looking at low weight with high reps first. Master the basics, ingrain them utterly, and then slowly scale up.
When I first started playing competitively, I practiced a lot with Fox and he became my tournament main. I learned how to do most of his stuff via something I call the "high-score" method, which is pretty simple. Pick a technique, be it short hopping, wavedashing, whatever, and do it over and over and over again. Keep track of how many times you can do it in a row before you make a mistake. That's your high score.
Now, try to beat your high-score. Keep going, keep beating your high-score. Get to a really high number, because remember, you're going to be doing these things a LOT in any match. Can you short hop 100 times in a row with Fox? You'd better be able to if you're a serious Fox main, because you will be doing THOUSANDS of them in one day at a given tournament, and you can't afford to have an 80% success rate.
High-score method is how I managed to actually learn my tech skill originally, and I improved at it pretty rapidly. Why did I stop? Beats me. But I'm starting again. But what do you practice?
Here's another thing for weightlifters to consider when they work out: compound lifts versus isolation. A compound lift is any lift that targets numerous muscle groups and forces them to coordinate to complete the lift. A squat, for instance, doesn't only use your thighs and glutes, but you have to use your shins and calves to balance, as well as flex your back to lower yourself, then stand. A squat works a lot of muscles. In general, compound lifts are more effective for training your coordination, for giving balance in your muscular development, and even for saving you time in your workout. Unless you're a bodybuilder specifically focusing on sculpting a single muscle group, it's almost always more beneficial to use compound lifts.
But what's interesting is that a "compound exercise" might not be the best idea for Smash practice. It trains multiple skills at once, but sometimes it can give you the wrong kind of muscle memory. This is because tech skill in Smash is also very heavily mental!
What do I mean? Let's talk about inhibition reflexes. (told you this is long and rambly)
Normal reflexes kick in when, let's say, your computer says "click when the screen turns green" and then hey, it turns green, so you click. Inhibition reflexes involve making judgments and sometimes NOT taking certain actions. If your computer says "hit enter when a letter appears, but DON'T hit anything if it's an X," then that tests your inhibition reflexes. You have to check for a value, then decide on a response, sometimes inhibiting your decision to press Enter.
Smash matches do not follow a script. The longer and more involved a technique is, the less likely it will be strictly applicable to every scenario. Practicing short-hop turn-shine waveland fast-fall off the platform into b-air is fun and flashy, but sometimes you don't want to do that. The more you practice it though, the more ingrained that entire action becomes. The more of a habit it is to do that, the more you will have to actively prevent yourself from taking that action during a match.
But what if doing that is a great idea? What if you know you can bait them into jumping out of their shield and you'll clip them with a b-air while they DI badly? You want to be able to perform the maneuver. So maybe you can just practice turn shines in one instance (that's kind of isolated), then practice waveland b-air in another (also pretty isolated), and every now and then put them together to make sure you can do it.
Now for another fun psychological experience: attentional blink. Attentional blink refers to when you shift focus from one piece of information to another; as you can imagine, in Smash you have to do this A LOT. You have to mentally move to the next step in the match, and sometimes it happens at blinding speed. Somebody jumps up above you and wavelands on a platform, then falls off with b-air and hits your shield. It's not enough for you to think, "okay he's going to waveland and b-air me," but then you have to quickly move forward into, "now I think he'll dash-dance away then come at me with a tipped n-air."
One of the things about attentional blink is that it WILL compete with your inhibition reflex for space in your mind. You cannot consciously process two pieces of information simultaneously. You can shift rapidly between them, but you can't actually think about them both. If you have to put attention on on stopping yourself from turn-shine waveland b-airing, you will find it difficult to actually make a new decision. Because you can't come up with a good decision, you may find your hands flubbing for a response. And even if you CAN settle on a response, your hands won't be prepared to execute it well.
How does this relate to your smash workout? Well, here's my theory: if you want to have good tech-skill, and you also want to be able to make good decisions even under pressure, you must have strong isolated skills and quick attentional blinking speed. You have to separate situations into the smallest pieces possible, and be skilled at executing all of them.
SO, with all that long-winded shit in mind, here's how I'm trying to "work out" with Smash.
Wavedashes: 200 in a "set." I cannot afford to screw these up because ICs rely on them heavily every game. I find that by around 200 in a short time, my index finger is too cramped to keep pressing the trigger, so this is where I stop. If I mess up, I start over.
Short hops: I short hop for a lot of reasons, but it's important not to do the same thing out of your short-hop every time. Empty short hops, dashing short-hops, dashing into a backwards short-hop, short-hopping all your aerials, short-hopping with and without fastfalls, these all come into play for mix-ups and good decision making. I start with empty ones, shooting for fifty in a row, then I start short-hopping random aerials (with the most emphasis on my b-air and u-air, because they're the ICs most applicable aerials and the easiest to mess up).
Dash-dances: Joystick control is imperative. It's very important that ALL players are good at keeping track of the direction they're actually pressing it, for the sake of your air-control, DI, and sweet-spotting. I pick a spot on a given stage (like the center of the Pokeball in Pokemon Stadium) and dash-dance within that strict distance for as long as I can. Twenty seconds of rapid dash dancing without a flub is pretty good, and I've found it's already given me much better control with my left thumb. Can't hurt to shoot for higher though!
L-cancels: These are tricky to train because their timing changes so much depending on your given situation. If you hit two shields, a light-shield, a taller character, if you're fastfalling out of a short hop, or fastfalling out of an aerial from a different height... these all change the timing. This is where quick attentional blinking really makes a difference; recognizing how the timing changes, being ready to land your L-cancel based on new information and then quickly move on to the next step of the match.
Well, that's all I've got for now. Believe it or not, there's going to be a follow up to this!
Hope you didn't think that was too weird or stupid. Peace.
So one of my recent hobbies--being pretty isolated in Texas, with me, Darkrain and DoH all being on completely different work schedules--is working out. Mostly I do a lot of bodyweight stuff, working my way towards one-armed pullups and pushups, hanging V-raises, one-legged squats, stuff like that. And, massive nerd that I am, I've thought about it and want to see what I can apply to Smash.
My most recent tournament, TO6, was pretty depressing for me for a couple reasons. One, I'd just taken 5th at APEX and had 3 1st place finishes in tournaments before that, all of them with pretty stiff competition. I had high expectations for myself, I took 4 days off work to go, and I wasn't playing as well as I liked. That and having the entire crowd against me put me in a bad mood. I lost to Raku, a Sheik player--who was surprisingly good, truthfully, he deserved his win 100%--and thanks to my high expectations that put me in an even worse mood. I went to loser's and started off by getting stomped by RockCrock, and ended up quitting. You can call it a rage-quit I guess, but it was a quit meant to pre-empt rage. I promised myself awhile ago that if I started getting too frustrated during matches I would just forfeit before reaching a point of no-return on my anger.
So after a lot of thought I decided that my main weakness is--and has always been--my technical skill. I don't make perfect guesses and decisions 100% of the time, but often I still screw up when I do, which is a big part of why I rely on simple chaingrabs and such; I'm incredibly inconsistent across the board, and the grab-game is the easiest for me to execute, so naturally I gravitate to it. But I've been using it as a crutch for far too long, and I decided that if technical inconsistency is my biggest weakness, I will just have to train my ass off to turn it into my biggest strength. If I can couple that with my generally smart play, then I'll be a much stronger player as a result.
But how to train? How can one develop technical skill? What is it?
For starters, I think technical skill--the kind that really matters--boils down to consistency. It's not the ability to sprint, but to run a marathon. To keep a consistent pace the entire match long so that even if you can't take advantage of every tiny opening with blinding flashy speed, you can give nothing away through mistakes. And, once you can run the marathon, to improve your time. Or, if we're going to compare it to a weight workout, we're looking at low weight with high reps first. Master the basics, ingrain them utterly, and then slowly scale up.
When I first started playing competitively, I practiced a lot with Fox and he became my tournament main. I learned how to do most of his stuff via something I call the "high-score" method, which is pretty simple. Pick a technique, be it short hopping, wavedashing, whatever, and do it over and over and over again. Keep track of how many times you can do it in a row before you make a mistake. That's your high score.
Now, try to beat your high-score. Keep going, keep beating your high-score. Get to a really high number, because remember, you're going to be doing these things a LOT in any match. Can you short hop 100 times in a row with Fox? You'd better be able to if you're a serious Fox main, because you will be doing THOUSANDS of them in one day at a given tournament, and you can't afford to have an 80% success rate.
High-score method is how I managed to actually learn my tech skill originally, and I improved at it pretty rapidly. Why did I stop? Beats me. But I'm starting again. But what do you practice?
Here's another thing for weightlifters to consider when they work out: compound lifts versus isolation. A compound lift is any lift that targets numerous muscle groups and forces them to coordinate to complete the lift. A squat, for instance, doesn't only use your thighs and glutes, but you have to use your shins and calves to balance, as well as flex your back to lower yourself, then stand. A squat works a lot of muscles. In general, compound lifts are more effective for training your coordination, for giving balance in your muscular development, and even for saving you time in your workout. Unless you're a bodybuilder specifically focusing on sculpting a single muscle group, it's almost always more beneficial to use compound lifts.
But what's interesting is that a "compound exercise" might not be the best idea for Smash practice. It trains multiple skills at once, but sometimes it can give you the wrong kind of muscle memory. This is because tech skill in Smash is also very heavily mental!
What do I mean? Let's talk about inhibition reflexes. (told you this is long and rambly)
Normal reflexes kick in when, let's say, your computer says "click when the screen turns green" and then hey, it turns green, so you click. Inhibition reflexes involve making judgments and sometimes NOT taking certain actions. If your computer says "hit enter when a letter appears, but DON'T hit anything if it's an X," then that tests your inhibition reflexes. You have to check for a value, then decide on a response, sometimes inhibiting your decision to press Enter.
Smash matches do not follow a script. The longer and more involved a technique is, the less likely it will be strictly applicable to every scenario. Practicing short-hop turn-shine waveland fast-fall off the platform into b-air is fun and flashy, but sometimes you don't want to do that. The more you practice it though, the more ingrained that entire action becomes. The more of a habit it is to do that, the more you will have to actively prevent yourself from taking that action during a match.
But what if doing that is a great idea? What if you know you can bait them into jumping out of their shield and you'll clip them with a b-air while they DI badly? You want to be able to perform the maneuver. So maybe you can just practice turn shines in one instance (that's kind of isolated), then practice waveland b-air in another (also pretty isolated), and every now and then put them together to make sure you can do it.
Now for another fun psychological experience: attentional blink. Attentional blink refers to when you shift focus from one piece of information to another; as you can imagine, in Smash you have to do this A LOT. You have to mentally move to the next step in the match, and sometimes it happens at blinding speed. Somebody jumps up above you and wavelands on a platform, then falls off with b-air and hits your shield. It's not enough for you to think, "okay he's going to waveland and b-air me," but then you have to quickly move forward into, "now I think he'll dash-dance away then come at me with a tipped n-air."
One of the things about attentional blink is that it WILL compete with your inhibition reflex for space in your mind. You cannot consciously process two pieces of information simultaneously. You can shift rapidly between them, but you can't actually think about them both. If you have to put attention on on stopping yourself from turn-shine waveland b-airing, you will find it difficult to actually make a new decision. Because you can't come up with a good decision, you may find your hands flubbing for a response. And even if you CAN settle on a response, your hands won't be prepared to execute it well.
How does this relate to your smash workout? Well, here's my theory: if you want to have good tech-skill, and you also want to be able to make good decisions even under pressure, you must have strong isolated skills and quick attentional blinking speed. You have to separate situations into the smallest pieces possible, and be skilled at executing all of them.
SO, with all that long-winded shit in mind, here's how I'm trying to "work out" with Smash.
Wavedashes: 200 in a "set." I cannot afford to screw these up because ICs rely on them heavily every game. I find that by around 200 in a short time, my index finger is too cramped to keep pressing the trigger, so this is where I stop. If I mess up, I start over.
Short hops: I short hop for a lot of reasons, but it's important not to do the same thing out of your short-hop every time. Empty short hops, dashing short-hops, dashing into a backwards short-hop, short-hopping all your aerials, short-hopping with and without fastfalls, these all come into play for mix-ups and good decision making. I start with empty ones, shooting for fifty in a row, then I start short-hopping random aerials (with the most emphasis on my b-air and u-air, because they're the ICs most applicable aerials and the easiest to mess up).
Dash-dances: Joystick control is imperative. It's very important that ALL players are good at keeping track of the direction they're actually pressing it, for the sake of your air-control, DI, and sweet-spotting. I pick a spot on a given stage (like the center of the Pokeball in Pokemon Stadium) and dash-dance within that strict distance for as long as I can. Twenty seconds of rapid dash dancing without a flub is pretty good, and I've found it's already given me much better control with my left thumb. Can't hurt to shoot for higher though!
L-cancels: These are tricky to train because their timing changes so much depending on your given situation. If you hit two shields, a light-shield, a taller character, if you're fastfalling out of a short hop, or fastfalling out of an aerial from a different height... these all change the timing. This is where quick attentional blinking really makes a difference; recognizing how the timing changes, being ready to land your L-cancel based on new information and then quickly move on to the next step of the match.
Well, that's all I've got for now. Believe it or not, there's going to be a follow up to this!
Hope you didn't think that was too weird or stupid. Peace.
Monday, October 11, 2010
It's about time you started losing.
"I've missed over 9,000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I've been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed." -- Michael Jordan
I don't like making mistakes. Anybody who plays with me on a regular basis will tell you that. I miss a short hop or an L-cancel, I have to go into mental damage control mode.
I'm a perfectionist. I hate screwing up. I hate losing. I hate the thought that people watching me will think I'm anything but a great player. This applies in friendlies, money-matches, and tournament. I've mellowed out a lot over time, but this is still very much true of me, regardless of what I'm doing, regardless of whether I've even done it before.
Have you ever worked a dish-washing shift in a restaurant? I hadn't, until about a week ago, when they stuck me in front of a sink during lunch rush and said "go get 'em tiger." I panicked. I could spray shit with water, but that was about it. I didn't know where things went, or which detergents to use on which type of dishes. What I can just rinse off, and what has to go in the industrial torrential bacteria annihilator we call a dishwasher. And every time I got something wrong or fell behind or put something in the wrong place or someone corrected me, I got irritated. Over something I had NO REASON to expect myself to do well at. Ridiculous? Yeah, I'd say so.
You can tell where I'm going with this. Losing a friendly kind of sucks, but who cares? What matters is that you learn from it. The example I give to people is this: you and a friend play 100 matches. 98 of them are friendlies, and you lose all of them. You spend them trying new stuff, practicing new techniques, figuring out what works, what doesn't, and your friend just plays the same the entire time. The other two are tournament matches, and you 2-0 him. That's 1 in 50 wins, but you advance in the bracket. Which matches matter more? Which matches do people care about?
"Oh, but I beat him in friendlies." People say it all the time, friendlies don't matter. Or rather, they do matter, but only because of what they teach you. People remember the tournament results. They remember who took first.
Here's an interesting flip side; people get mad about other people camping in friendlies, even though it's a strategy that you should learn to deal with if you want to be a top player. Friendlies are the optimal environment for testing new strategies and counter-strategies, but people don't want to practice against camping. Why? It's boring. You shouldn't try so hard to win in friendlies, etc.
Yet the very reason that those people are pissed off about camping is because they are losing to it! "You shouldn't try so hard to win in friendlies! Let ME win instead!"
Here's the point: friendlies are for practicing and trying new things, not for keeping score. You try to win them, but not because winning the friendly matters. It's because honing a skill properly so that it becomes a winning technique matters. And if you have to lose a lot so that you can actually win when it counts, so be it.
I don't like making mistakes. Anybody who plays with me on a regular basis will tell you that. I miss a short hop or an L-cancel, I have to go into mental damage control mode.
I'm a perfectionist. I hate screwing up. I hate losing. I hate the thought that people watching me will think I'm anything but a great player. This applies in friendlies, money-matches, and tournament. I've mellowed out a lot over time, but this is still very much true of me, regardless of what I'm doing, regardless of whether I've even done it before.
Have you ever worked a dish-washing shift in a restaurant? I hadn't, until about a week ago, when they stuck me in front of a sink during lunch rush and said "go get 'em tiger." I panicked. I could spray shit with water, but that was about it. I didn't know where things went, or which detergents to use on which type of dishes. What I can just rinse off, and what has to go in the industrial torrential bacteria annihilator we call a dishwasher. And every time I got something wrong or fell behind or put something in the wrong place or someone corrected me, I got irritated. Over something I had NO REASON to expect myself to do well at. Ridiculous? Yeah, I'd say so.
You can tell where I'm going with this. Losing a friendly kind of sucks, but who cares? What matters is that you learn from it. The example I give to people is this: you and a friend play 100 matches. 98 of them are friendlies, and you lose all of them. You spend them trying new stuff, practicing new techniques, figuring out what works, what doesn't, and your friend just plays the same the entire time. The other two are tournament matches, and you 2-0 him. That's 1 in 50 wins, but you advance in the bracket. Which matches matter more? Which matches do people care about?
"Oh, but I beat him in friendlies." People say it all the time, friendlies don't matter. Or rather, they do matter, but only because of what they teach you. People remember the tournament results. They remember who took first.
Here's an interesting flip side; people get mad about other people camping in friendlies, even though it's a strategy that you should learn to deal with if you want to be a top player. Friendlies are the optimal environment for testing new strategies and counter-strategies, but people don't want to practice against camping. Why? It's boring. You shouldn't try so hard to win in friendlies, etc.
Yet the very reason that those people are pissed off about camping is because they are losing to it! "You shouldn't try so hard to win in friendlies! Let ME win instead!"
Here's the point: friendlies are for practicing and trying new things, not for keeping score. You try to win them, but not because winning the friendly matters. It's because honing a skill properly so that it becomes a winning technique matters. And if you have to lose a lot so that you can actually win when it counts, so be it.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
One Thing
"I'll post more," he said. Takes him two weeks to post something, and it's not even smash related. What a noob.
Anyhow, I felt like posting something I was thinking about that applies everywhere. It's about self-improvement, learning, and achievement. It goes according to a rather significant quote:
"Today I will do what others won't, so tomorrow I can accomplish what others can't." -- Jerry Rice
I'm a fan of the "one thing" methodology, which is pick a single isolated skill, technique, or habit, and ingrain it within yourself until it becomes your instinct. Then pick something else, and repeat until you're done. Don't try everything at once.
So here's your homework, readers. Pick something today. It can be in Smash or school or work or whatever, doesn't matter what. Pick one thing, just ONE, that you don't normally do, or you think "I really ought to," and do it. No excuses, no johns, it's just one thing. You can manage it. It's that one thing you CAN do, but don't. Go do it.
And if you have to, be ready to do it again. That's it. You're identical to your old self except for this one thing, which you do a bit better. Now, overall, YOU are a bit better.
Now do it again.
Peace.
Anyhow, I felt like posting something I was thinking about that applies everywhere. It's about self-improvement, learning, and achievement. It goes according to a rather significant quote:
"Today I will do what others won't, so tomorrow I can accomplish what others can't." -- Jerry Rice
I'm a fan of the "one thing" methodology, which is pick a single isolated skill, technique, or habit, and ingrain it within yourself until it becomes your instinct. Then pick something else, and repeat until you're done. Don't try everything at once.
So here's your homework, readers. Pick something today. It can be in Smash or school or work or whatever, doesn't matter what. Pick one thing, just ONE, that you don't normally do, or you think "I really ought to," and do it. No excuses, no johns, it's just one thing. You can manage it. It's that one thing you CAN do, but don't. Go do it.
And if you have to, be ready to do it again. That's it. You're identical to your old self except for this one thing, which you do a bit better. Now, overall, YOU are a bit better.
Now do it again.
Peace.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Brief downtime and gratitude.
Even though the blog was only down for a short time, I heard from a surprising number of people (surprisingly quickly) that I needed to hurry up and bring it back. I didn't realize people actually enjoyed reading this thing!
So I'm going to try and update more frequently, even if it's with smaller stuff, just so you folks who check here regularly can have something new to read every time you stop by.
Thanks for sticking with me so far, everybody.
So I'm going to try and update more frequently, even if it's with smaller stuff, just so you folks who check here regularly can have something new to read every time you stop by.
Thanks for sticking with me so far, everybody.
Monday, September 6, 2010
What do you want?
This blog is not entirely about Smash, but more about life. It's about something I'm thinking about right now, and I want to encourage other people to think about. I'm writing it as much in an effort to share my thoughts as I am writing it to try and understand my own. It was inspired by this video, specifically around 1:21: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvOUVil7W5s
What do you want?
Why do you want to be good at Smash? Why do you spend your hours playing this game rather than at your job, studying math, picking up girls, working out, learning guitar, writing your novel? What is your goal? Why is this important to you?
I've asked people what their targets are when they play, I've received lots of different answers. Some people just want to make it out of pools, some people just want to avoid going 0-2, some people want to be the best with X character, some people say "I want to be a top player." One answer I liked was "you know how when people play you they're like, 'oh shit I have to play Wobbles.' I want people to say that when they play me." Nice one.
Though I didn't ask him directly, my favorite answer came from Soft when I went to Alabama. I told him, "I'm traveling a lot because I want to get as much practice as I can, since I want to win APEX." You know what his response was?
"So do I."
I guarantee you that Soft will improve faster and rise to higher levels than most other players. He didn't manage to make it out of 2nd round pools, but doesn't that make his goal more impressive? People say, "I want to make it out of my pool," "I just don't want to get last." Soft wanted to take home the whole damn thing.
Remember this. Whenever you stop to pursue a goal, in that time you exclude everything else. When you sit down to play Smash, if you have some goal like "I want to have an amazing Falco," and you don't work towards that goal, then you are failing yourself. You only have so much time in your life. You absolutely MUST spend it pursuing whatever goal is most important to you, and if you're going to spend that time, do not spend it carelessly because you are spending it at the expense of the other things you could be doing.
I wanted--I don't know if I still do--to be the best player in the world. I did not care how many Mangos and Armadas and HBoxes and M2Ks and other top players I would have to surpass to do it; it was my goal. It was stupidly ambitious and audacious to believe it was possible for me, a player who demonstrated no recognizable talent when he started. But it was my target.
And to be honest, I did not have the dedication such a lofty goal deserved. I screwed around, I trained poorly. I've made johns and cop-outs and settled for less than my best. I not only picked a goal that I didn't work my hardest for, I did it at the expense of other things in my life, so I wasted time on multiple fronts. By some weird combination of luck and bursts of obssessive motivation, I've become one of the top players in the country. But I'm damn sure it's no stellar example of how to play and pursue your Smash career, or any other goal in life for that matter.
Don't mess around. Don't give maybes and don't lie to yourself about how you're trying your hardest but other stuff comes up. If something matters to you and you're going to spend your time on it, then don't waste that time. Every moment wasted is irreparable damage to the potential output your life could be creating. If there's something that gets in the way of your goals, then sit down and figure out how to make that obstacle fuck off. No johns, no "it's too hard," if you want it, then go for it, and crush anything in your path.
Peace folks.
What do you want?
Why do you want to be good at Smash? Why do you spend your hours playing this game rather than at your job, studying math, picking up girls, working out, learning guitar, writing your novel? What is your goal? Why is this important to you?
I've asked people what their targets are when they play, I've received lots of different answers. Some people just want to make it out of pools, some people just want to avoid going 0-2, some people want to be the best with X character, some people say "I want to be a top player." One answer I liked was "you know how when people play you they're like, 'oh shit I have to play Wobbles.' I want people to say that when they play me." Nice one.
Though I didn't ask him directly, my favorite answer came from Soft when I went to Alabama. I told him, "I'm traveling a lot because I want to get as much practice as I can, since I want to win APEX." You know what his response was?
"So do I."
I guarantee you that Soft will improve faster and rise to higher levels than most other players. He didn't manage to make it out of 2nd round pools, but doesn't that make his goal more impressive? People say, "I want to make it out of my pool," "I just don't want to get last." Soft wanted to take home the whole damn thing.
Remember this. Whenever you stop to pursue a goal, in that time you exclude everything else. When you sit down to play Smash, if you have some goal like "I want to have an amazing Falco," and you don't work towards that goal, then you are failing yourself. You only have so much time in your life. You absolutely MUST spend it pursuing whatever goal is most important to you, and if you're going to spend that time, do not spend it carelessly because you are spending it at the expense of the other things you could be doing.
I wanted--I don't know if I still do--to be the best player in the world. I did not care how many Mangos and Armadas and HBoxes and M2Ks and other top players I would have to surpass to do it; it was my goal. It was stupidly ambitious and audacious to believe it was possible for me, a player who demonstrated no recognizable talent when he started. But it was my target.
And to be honest, I did not have the dedication such a lofty goal deserved. I screwed around, I trained poorly. I've made johns and cop-outs and settled for less than my best. I not only picked a goal that I didn't work my hardest for, I did it at the expense of other things in my life, so I wasted time on multiple fronts. By some weird combination of luck and bursts of obssessive motivation, I've become one of the top players in the country. But I'm damn sure it's no stellar example of how to play and pursue your Smash career, or any other goal in life for that matter.
Don't mess around. Don't give maybes and don't lie to yourself about how you're trying your hardest but other stuff comes up. If something matters to you and you're going to spend your time on it, then don't waste that time. Every moment wasted is irreparable damage to the potential output your life could be creating. If there's something that gets in the way of your goals, then sit down and figure out how to make that obstacle fuck off. No johns, no "it's too hard," if you want it, then go for it, and crush anything in your path.
Peace folks.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Here, Fishy Fishy.
Let's talk for a moment about the only man to ever beat Chuck Norris in a race: Captain Falcon.
Now, *aside* from his overwhelming manliness, how does Captain Falcon ever manage to make it back to the stage? Somebody saw fit to give the other characters some pretense of a chance at beating the Cap'n, so all he's really got is up+b. And with up+b, he can pretty much aim for the stage, or aim for the edge. He can also try and ledge-tech but once people found out you can edgehog that it became less handy. So he can go onto the level, or onto the edge. That's it. Regardless, paragon of the XY that he is, Falcon finds a way back anyhow.
The reason that Falcon can make his way back despite overwhelming evidence that he should *not* (besides being goddamn Captain Falcon of course), comes down to two things.
First is the fact that we, as players, are fish. We have a tendency to bite down on the juiciest piece of bait that lands in front of us. When we see something that makes us think, "hey I can punish this," we rarely stop ourselves from leaping in mouth-first. Impulse control is one of those useful skills that you don't talk about much.
The second is air control. There's a lot of hidden effort involved in using that one move to make it back to the stage. Let's say that you're Falcon and your opponent is a smart dude. You up+b, and right now the other guy is thinking "ah, he's going to the edge, but he wants to trick me." As you start moving forward the guy is watching you, looking for the trick, and then he sees it. You start pulling back, and so he quickly steals the edge. One stock down, three to go.
He's wrong though. You hit back on the joystick for just a fraction of a second, and when he saw you slow down he thought you were completely changing direction. Turns out you quickly hit forward again and moved into towards the middle of the level, out of range of a ledge-hop punishment.
One of the many differences between good players and great players is how they use air control. Much like how Starcraft players can always find something productive to do in just one second of dead time, great players add more dimensions to their game in places that good players don't think to look.
Most Falco players, once they fire their laser don't realize that they can still control their horizontal momentum to adjust their spacing, nor do they consciously implement this to make their approaches and zoning games more precise and safe. Watch a video of Mango's Falco and really watch his character model. Look at the tiny adjustments he makes in the air. Besides giving himself better spacing control, this has the effect of giving the other guy false information about his intentions. The slightest bit of DI in can convince somebody you'll be in shield-grab range, even though you immediately begin to DI out and they whiff the grab.
Or consider Jigglypuff. Most Puff players use a very predictable in and out rhythm of air movement. While this helps them space their moves, it also gives the opponent a handy metronome for anticipating the Puff's move placement. Once again, watch Mango if you want inspiration. Sometimes he abruptly stops in mid-air for not even a quarter of a second, giving you the impression that he's about to retreat and it's save to jump out; of course, that's when he has a n-air waiting for you. And then when you're busy watching for it, he'll spend some of the match moving in at full speed and being in range before you even realize it, clipping you before you have a chance to notice that he's up in your grill. And then sometimes he really does just completely pull back and you whiff an attempted counter-attack, letting him punish as he pleases. Once he's in your head like that, Mango can attack pretty much whenever he wants and you'll be too flustered to avoid it.
Back to the two main points: air control, and fish. As players those subtle cues in air control tell us where the opponent plans to go and what he plans to do. Why do you think that people still keep falling for Ganondorf's double-jump bait against shield? He jumps in on you with your shield up, fast falls and then jumps. The key? The fast fall.
Experience works against us here. Fast falling is a sign that you're using an aerial and you want to cancel lag on the ground as quickly as possible. It's the cue that many players use to tell if somebody is about to land, and having seen it you assume the other guy is about to land. Afterwards you think "of course Ganon was tricking me so he could double jump and stomp me in the face," but at the time throwing out that grab seemed completely reasonable, didn't it? Yes. If you're a fish.
As fish, we often react to the first piece of pertinent information we see, and use that as an excuse to go for the bait. Somebody dashes towards you, that's the cue to roll towards them and get behind them because they are OBVIOUSLY tech-chasing you away. And that open space behind them looks so damn inviting, doesn't it? Wait, why is Fox wavedashing backwards? I hope you remembered to DI his up-smash properly, little fish.
The bait can become a little more complicated. I love dashing up to a prone target with ICs and bringing up my shield, then wavedashing out to follow their roll. Because once I've shield-grabbed somebody's get-up attack eight times in five minutes, they start catching on. In fact, they lie there prone just to encourage me to run up and shield again so they can roll away, safe. Wait, why is Wobbles suddenly wavedashing backwards? Fishy fishy fishy fishy.
These situations happen a lot and they're pretty easy to understand and learn from, because the options here are very concrete and defined. Roll in, roll away, get-up attack, stand-up... not that complicated. But few realize just how easily and how often subtle air-control will bait something like a jump into an "obvious" move. HBox's air movement is full of alterations in timing and speed adjustments that make even really good and smart space-animals jump straight into his b-air.
So don't get lazy. You aren't on a fixed trajectory once you've jumped where the only difference is in the timing of your stupidly telegraphed aerial. Every character can do a little to screw with the other guy's sense of his location, and once you do, then you'll really be fishing.
Now, *aside* from his overwhelming manliness, how does Captain Falcon ever manage to make it back to the stage? Somebody saw fit to give the other characters some pretense of a chance at beating the Cap'n, so all he's really got is up+b. And with up+b, he can pretty much aim for the stage, or aim for the edge. He can also try and ledge-tech but once people found out you can edgehog that it became less handy. So he can go onto the level, or onto the edge. That's it. Regardless, paragon of the XY that he is, Falcon finds a way back anyhow.
The reason that Falcon can make his way back despite overwhelming evidence that he should *not* (besides being goddamn Captain Falcon of course), comes down to two things.
First is the fact that we, as players, are fish. We have a tendency to bite down on the juiciest piece of bait that lands in front of us. When we see something that makes us think, "hey I can punish this," we rarely stop ourselves from leaping in mouth-first. Impulse control is one of those useful skills that you don't talk about much.
The second is air control. There's a lot of hidden effort involved in using that one move to make it back to the stage. Let's say that you're Falcon and your opponent is a smart dude. You up+b, and right now the other guy is thinking "ah, he's going to the edge, but he wants to trick me." As you start moving forward the guy is watching you, looking for the trick, and then he sees it. You start pulling back, and so he quickly steals the edge. One stock down, three to go.
He's wrong though. You hit back on the joystick for just a fraction of a second, and when he saw you slow down he thought you were completely changing direction. Turns out you quickly hit forward again and moved into towards the middle of the level, out of range of a ledge-hop punishment.
One of the many differences between good players and great players is how they use air control. Much like how Starcraft players can always find something productive to do in just one second of dead time, great players add more dimensions to their game in places that good players don't think to look.
Most Falco players, once they fire their laser don't realize that they can still control their horizontal momentum to adjust their spacing, nor do they consciously implement this to make their approaches and zoning games more precise and safe. Watch a video of Mango's Falco and really watch his character model. Look at the tiny adjustments he makes in the air. Besides giving himself better spacing control, this has the effect of giving the other guy false information about his intentions. The slightest bit of DI in can convince somebody you'll be in shield-grab range, even though you immediately begin to DI out and they whiff the grab.
Or consider Jigglypuff. Most Puff players use a very predictable in and out rhythm of air movement. While this helps them space their moves, it also gives the opponent a handy metronome for anticipating the Puff's move placement. Once again, watch Mango if you want inspiration. Sometimes he abruptly stops in mid-air for not even a quarter of a second, giving you the impression that he's about to retreat and it's save to jump out; of course, that's when he has a n-air waiting for you. And then when you're busy watching for it, he'll spend some of the match moving in at full speed and being in range before you even realize it, clipping you before you have a chance to notice that he's up in your grill. And then sometimes he really does just completely pull back and you whiff an attempted counter-attack, letting him punish as he pleases. Once he's in your head like that, Mango can attack pretty much whenever he wants and you'll be too flustered to avoid it.
Back to the two main points: air control, and fish. As players those subtle cues in air control tell us where the opponent plans to go and what he plans to do. Why do you think that people still keep falling for Ganondorf's double-jump bait against shield? He jumps in on you with your shield up, fast falls and then jumps. The key? The fast fall.
Experience works against us here. Fast falling is a sign that you're using an aerial and you want to cancel lag on the ground as quickly as possible. It's the cue that many players use to tell if somebody is about to land, and having seen it you assume the other guy is about to land. Afterwards you think "of course Ganon was tricking me so he could double jump and stomp me in the face," but at the time throwing out that grab seemed completely reasonable, didn't it? Yes. If you're a fish.
As fish, we often react to the first piece of pertinent information we see, and use that as an excuse to go for the bait. Somebody dashes towards you, that's the cue to roll towards them and get behind them because they are OBVIOUSLY tech-chasing you away. And that open space behind them looks so damn inviting, doesn't it? Wait, why is Fox wavedashing backwards? I hope you remembered to DI his up-smash properly, little fish.
The bait can become a little more complicated. I love dashing up to a prone target with ICs and bringing up my shield, then wavedashing out to follow their roll. Because once I've shield-grabbed somebody's get-up attack eight times in five minutes, they start catching on. In fact, they lie there prone just to encourage me to run up and shield again so they can roll away, safe. Wait, why is Wobbles suddenly wavedashing backwards? Fishy fishy fishy fishy.
These situations happen a lot and they're pretty easy to understand and learn from, because the options here are very concrete and defined. Roll in, roll away, get-up attack, stand-up... not that complicated. But few realize just how easily and how often subtle air-control will bait something like a jump into an "obvious" move. HBox's air movement is full of alterations in timing and speed adjustments that make even really good and smart space-animals jump straight into his b-air.
So don't get lazy. You aren't on a fixed trajectory once you've jumped where the only difference is in the timing of your stupidly telegraphed aerial. Every character can do a little to screw with the other guy's sense of his location, and once you do, then you'll really be fishing.
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