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March 2005
Tuning in to the psychic airwaves all around us, I can sense the burning question that must be answered this month: "Oh great oracle of knowledge, what are the winning numbers for this week's Powerball jackpot" Hey; that's not the kind of gaming this column deals with, OK? Try again. "Oh great guru of newbieness, how can we get better at gaming and therefore not be newbies anymore?" That's better.
Hear, o seekers of knowledge, wisdom, and understanding, the deep and profound truths of the great guru! Go out and play! "Oh great guru of newbieness, we want our money back!" Sorry kids, no refunds; now, read on.
As overly simplistic as that answer seems, the only way to get better at something is to do it. While certain skills are ones we tend to remember our entire lives, such as swimming or bicycle riding, the fact remains that in such cases it's only the baseline skill that we won't lose. If you were an Olympic swimmer but haven't been in the pool in 20 years, you still remember how to swim, but you really aren't going to be at that competitive level you were at when you practiced every single day. The same is true for bike riding; you may remember how to ride a bike, but you cannot ignore the bike for many years and still expect to just get on it and have the speed and endurance you once might have had.
It takes more than just learning how to play a game to be good at it, unless you happen to be one of the insanely lucky types that dice just naturally roll well for. The rest of us, however, have to develop the skills and the "knack" to be competitive at a given game. Too often, though, we simply try it once or twice, get soundly trounced, and decide the game is simply not worth the effort. That's sad, though, because getting trounced is often precisely what we need to get better.
Yes, oh seekers of knowledge, wisdom, and understanding, you read that correctly. Getting trounced is often just what the doctor ordered in our prescription for growing out of newbieness and into "veteran" players. We get truly better by competing against those who challenge us and make us work for every point we might gain. In most cases, though, this is contrary to our natural inclinations.
You see, we tend to choose our tournaments based more on the ones we feel confident we can win. It's satisfying to the ego to be the "big fish in the small pond" and to take home the trophy by competing against lesser players. It doesn't make us better, though. You get better by entering tournaments that you're likely going to lose. If you want to be a faster bicycle rider, you want to ride with the likes of Lance Armstrong and Tyler Hamilton. You don't want to ride with the slow-n-easy family rides, even though everyone at one of those might look at you with awe because you're already faster than all of them. Lance and Tyler are going to challenge you; you're going to have to work hard just to keep up with them, and because you do, you're going to get stronger.
Gaming is very much the same way. Playing with solid, experienced "veterans" who know what they're doing will improve your game far better than always playing with newbies. You want someone who you need to stay on your toes with to keep up with. More importantly, you want someone who has the experience to demonstrate novel ways to approach various aspects of the game so that your thinking is challenged and hence broadened.
The flip side of that is newbies are going to be looking to you to help them get better. You can, of course, keep your knowledge to yourself so that you remain better than them, but I believe it is far more rewarding to be a conduit than it is to be a reservoir. What we learn from those more experienced we in turn pass along to those less experienced. In an odd twist, we eventually reach a point where we learn all new aspects from teaching that we never learned from studying, and that when the day is done everyone walks away from the table with something new.
It dawns on us, then; we really are becoming better.
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