Now that eBay has blocked any chance I have to get the Dreamcast games I desire, it looks like I am going to have a drastic shift in content for my blog. To keep to the theme of my disappointment, I think this is a good time to reopen another video game related wound.

A few weeks back I took part in the Gamestop Super Smash Brothers Brawl tournament.

A desire for money, glory and TV led me to enter. That, mixed with the always dangerous empty evening that gives me little to do while my better half is working. It all started while doing some discount bin diving — a subject for another time — the day Brawl came out.

Disclaimer: I wasn't looking to buy Brawl, nor do I own a Wii.

Anyway.

At the check out, the clerk asked me if I wanted in. Maybe it was the used PS2 game in my hand or the time of day, but he could tell that I had nothing to do.

I voiced some interest and then he pulled out the list. A quick glance showed me a list covered with 13-year-olds.

No hesitation.

With visions of glory, I signed my name on the form and readied myself for my greatest fight of my life.

Two phone calls later, reality set in.

Feeling pride for my future victory I called my gaming friends. I wanted them to join me in battle or they could stand by and speak of my Glory. I was god damn Beowulf and I needed my Geats.

The first phone call was a shock.

"Don't you suck at Smash?"

The strongest Smash player of the group went right for the balls.

"Yes, but there are only kids playing. Who cares if I win or lose? This could be fun."

Already I was returning to my mortal state. However, he did say that he would join in if I could get someone else to come.

The second phone call was shorter than the first.

"It's my father's birthday. Don't you hate that game?"

Both statements true. Neither helped.

"Have fun with your father."

It was that that moment I remember who I am and truly understood what I had done.

I hadn't entered a simple game, rather signed away my soul and dignity to that clerk at Gamestop.

Swimming in an ocean of regret, I recalled friend number one. He laughed at what was going to happen, but his internet was down so he could train me. For the short car ride to his house, I returned to my visions of success.

Reality was not kind. The hour of training with my friend was even less kind. Defeat piled on bloody defeat, and I started to hate Smash again. To make matters worse, his fiancée's apartment lost power and joined us. She couldn't help but notice how much I sucked.

So the three of us went to Gamestop and waited for the battle to begin.

I was number eight and given the news that Wii controls were the only style allowed. Not only that, but all of those 13 year olds turned out to be past 20.

Shit.

A one minute match in a game I suck at with a controller that I really didn't understand. Well, the only chance I had now was to pick the character I already knew and hope for the best. With that, I walked up to the clerk to pick my character.

"Wario."

To this day I still have no idea what I was thinking and yes, the clerk laughed at my choice.

Four minutes into the tournament it was my turn. I got Wario and my foe picked Link.

My first move was to summon my motorcycle and rush towards Link. I smiled, knowing I understood what I was doing.

However, just as I was about to crush the elf, my bike crashed in such a manner that Link was safe and I was on my ass. Using my finely honed battle skills I tried to summon another bike.

Wario had other plans.

He just stood there and looked right at me with his hand just above his eyes. He was looking for something, perhaps he wanted to mock me for thinking I ever stood a chance by looking around for anyone who thought I had a chance to win. I was angry, but I my rage disappeared as I watched Link beat Wario within an inch of his life with the very motorcycle I had hoped to kill him with.

Irony?

After breaking my bike over my head, he smashed me in the face and knocked me off the screen. The minute flashed and I was ejected from the crowd. With my head low I left the Gamestop with only my friends mocking voices to keep me company to my car. A car that didn't start.

Oh, the challenges of life.