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March 2003
There is an old joke about getting older that says that
the memory is the second thing to go. Obviously, the teller of
the joke cannot remember what the first thing to go is. The
sad thing about that joke is when you feel like you're living it.
Which is exactly how I felt when my daughter sent me a
message asking where my column was for this month. Doh!
In the midst of everything, I forgot to write it this month!
Here I am, doing what I don't like doing, writing my column
at the last minute. Maybe Chris is being a bad influence on
me . . . yeah, that's it. I can always blame Chris.
Anyway, if anyone is still reading my column, they're
not doing so to catch up on who I'm trying to incriminate.
Hopefully, anyone still reading my column is doing so for a
few lighthearted laughs, maybe some thoughtful insight, or
perhaps just some bizarre form of masochism. For whatever
reason, here's hoping I can come up with something
worthwhile here at the last minute. Heck, that always works
for Chris . . .
Speaking of Chris, let me share some random thoughts
about my son-in-law, as related to gaming. Chris is one of
those people that you really don't want to find yourself
gaming against. We can discuss all we want about the physics
of the dice, and how the rolls should be completely random,
and that no one really has any advantage in that regard over
the other. After all that discussion, we can play a game with
Chris, and see if all the science holds up to the empirical
evidence. We find ourselves saying often that Chris has the
Devil's Own Luck when it comes to dice rolls, whether on the
table or in the software. A party of players that includes
Chris' character can enter a dungeon, and the only one that
will emerge alive and unscathed is Chris. Partying with Chris
is like being the "Red Shirt Extra" that beams down with
Captain Kirk. How does he do it? Well, if I ever figure it out,
I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to bogart the secret for all
its worth so that I, too, can achieve great things in the game,
while watching you die trying. Nyaah.
I think every newbie is going to come across a player
like Chris in their gaming process. Even if you match his
character skill for skill, and stat for stat, you'll find yourself
running or dying from a creature that he takes down with ease.
You'll wonder how he does it. You'll shake your fist at the
gaming gods or demons that control the dice. You'll make
spectral noises as your ghost watches him loot the corpse of
the monster that took you down in one hit. You'll ask
yourself, "How can I become a player like Chris?"
Simple answer. You can't. I've concluded that you're
either born a player like Chris, or you'll never be one at all.
It's like asking how you become a genius like Marilyn Vos
Savant. While a generous GM can simulate what it's like to
be a player like Chris ("Ah, that roll sucked. Roll the dice
again!"), nothing takes the place of having that kind of luck
inherent in your genetic code. I'm guessing that, once he dies,
some scientist will dissect his brain and his DNA to try and
determine the key to giving people luck like that, much like
the scientist that has been studying Einstein's brain to try and
figure out what made old Albert so smart.
Now, lest you think I'm bitter against Chris for this, let
me lay that to rest. Chris has been a great son-in-law so far.
He's a good husband to my daughter, treats her well, holds a
steady job, gets along fine with all of us loonies in the family
(in fact, he seems to fit right in), and doesn't even try to sell
us a bazillion free hours on the ISP he works for. We just
have to be careful when we're playing around him is all.
It's either that, or we have to figure out how to bribe
the GM's into dropping him into a nest of Turbonium
dragons . . .
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