April 9, 2000
Hearts in the Right Place
Sorry I haven't written in a while, I've been going through a tough time. You see, my mother had to go to the hospital a couple of weeks ago, and -- no, no, she's fine -- but while I was sitting in the waiting room, I noticed a copy of Modern Maturity sitting on a table. And you know who was featured on the cover?
Paul McCartney.
It's a good thing they had paramedics nearby, I'll tell you. By the time they finally got me in the straight jacket, I think I had taken out three wheel chairs and a whole shelf of Beanie Babies in the gift shop.
Speaking of impending geriatricity... I must tell you about my latest uncontrollable psychotic obsession -- I mean, hobby. I've been introduced at long last to on-line card games (thanks a pantload, NS). I play at the Yahoo games site (www.yahoo.com/games, as if you couldn't figure that out for yourselves), which offers over a dozen real-time interactive game options, from chess to backgammon to poker and blackjack. The technology of this stuff is moving so amazingly fast, there's almost nothing we can't do on-line now, and we almost take it for granted, but Yahoo has really taken its public (= "free") services to another level. Never in the history of mankind have there been more ways to waste time with so little effort.
Personally, I'm hooked on Hearts. I'm sure most of you have played hearts at some point in your life, either with real human beings or against your computer on the ubiquitous Microsoft Hearts game that comes with every Windows installment. At Yahoo, at any given time an average of 2,000 to 3,000 people can be found logged in, playing each other across the planet in a series of live hearts contests. This game (similar to the others, I assume) has fostered its own little virtual community, with its own language, code words, rituals, rules and rule breakers, and countless mini-tales of triumph and woe. It's truly fascinating. (No, really. Seriously, that wasn't sarcastic. No, that wasn't either. Come on, I mean it...)
Let me see if I can describe it in few enough words to keep you from clicking Delete on this column, but enough to capture the flavor:
There are two essential features of the on-line Hearts experience that make it unique. First, you're not just playing to win a particular game; you're playing for your Rating. See, Yahoo ranks all players by a complicated statistical formula, based on how many games they win, come in second, etc., and the relative rankings of the opponents. You start at 1500, but have to play 20 games to earn a real ranking; you're "provisional" until then, which means experienced players want nothing to do with you. Anything above 1650 is an "expert" player, with the highest ranks around 2000, and the lowly losers down about 1300.
The second key feature is that, during each game, you may not only play your cards, but you may write little messages that the other players in the hand can all read on a message board below the "table". So games can proceed much as if you are all in the same room. Conversation during games runs from "Hi, I'm in Wisconsin, where's everybody else from?" (I always answer, "Earth") to "I can't believe you played that card, you stupid moron!"
And this is where it gets interesting. It's just human nature, I guess, to feel competitive when quantitative rankings are involved. You're only a 1600? Heck, I'm an 1800! That means I'm better than you! And naturally, as you get higher in the ranks, the competitiveness increases. Anybody who's clawed his way to an "expert" rating must be fairly decent at playing the game, and eager to prove his/her abilities in combat. So it's no surprise that this tends to bring out the, shall we say, testy side of many of the players.
Now, for those who are not an avid Hearts players, you need to understand that this is not a game of four independent players seeking to win on their own, but rather it is a game of perpetually shifting 3-against-1 alliances. Why? Because, unlike most games, it's not the player who gets the most points who wins, but the player who has the fewest points when another player goes over the point limit for that game. So if you're playing to 60 points, for example, the game ends when at least one player gets 60 points, and the winner is the player with the lowest score. That means, at any given moment, 3 players are trying to avoid giving too many points to each other, and are focusing on the "low hand" player, trying to raise his/her score above their own. This requires a certain amount of teamwork, at least implicitly.
It gets especially tricky due to the point scoring system. Each heart is worth one point, while the evil Queen of Spades is worth a horrendous 13 points. Players will often gladly capture 5 or 6 hearts in a row just to avoid getting stuck with the QS. Almost always, as a game progresses, the shared goal of players 2, 3, and 4 is to dump the Queen on player 1. When this is successful, of course, player 1's score rises to the point where he/she has now become player 2, 3, or 4, and someone else is in the lead. So the alliance shifts instantly, and we deal the next hand.
That's the idea, anyway. But very often it doesn't work out that way, either because of skill, luck, or somebody screwing up. In a highly competitive game, this is when the sparks start to fly. The insults, the incredulous sarcasm, the pedantic and patronizing dissection of the offending player's mistakes. Some players, especially the less experienced, just tend to be panicky. Everyone has occasional wound up being stuck with the Queen because they didn't get rid of her early enough in a hand, so frequently a player will just toss her in at the first opportunity, regardless of who is the victim. I once questioned a player why she did this, virtually guaranteeing victory to another player, and she replied "I was afraid I would end up with the Queen. I know me." In other words, she was more afraid of the Queen of Spades than of losing the game!
Actually I'm usually pretty gentle, even when some boneheaded cretin makes a brainless play and moronically costs me a chance at a 1900 rating. But there are some incredibly vicious people out there, in dire need of lives, who unleash the most hateful rhetoric in reaction to a simple friendly card game. I don't exaggerate. One mistake or misjudgment, and some of these guys (they're usually guys) will just begin dumping on the offender: "What the hell did you do that for?" "What kind of a moron are you?" And a lot worse than that.
It's the anonymity, of course, that allows and encourages such sociopathic behavior. In any other circumstance, any kind of public soical setting, whether a card game or a lawn darts match, it is unimaginable that people would verbally lash out at strangers, curse them, insult them, practically spit on them. Except in New York, of course. But in this new and unique environment, it happens every single day. Impersonality somehow reduces some people to their basest, lowest common denomitator instincts.
Then there are also the typical perverts and sundry sex-seekers, who have really lost perspective, I think. If a female player identifies herself by a nickname such as "Cute_Kitten", it's almost inevitable that some guy playing against her in a game will start hitting on her. No matter that in real life this woman might be 68 years old with 7 grandchildren, these no-lifers can fantasize that it's some supermodel who happens to be playing games on the Internet with strangers at 2:00 in the morning. They'll deliver all sorts of cheap pickup lines, or sometimes brazen propositions, as if half expecting the woman to climb out of their monitor and jump on their laps.
Well, I suppose there's got to be a point to this rambling. If so, I think it's this: I have discovered a strange trait about myself. I enjoy the competition (and even camaraderie) of this virtual card game experience as much as the next guy, but the real reason I've gotten hooked on it is the people I've been describing: the weirdos, the losers, the psychos and obsessives. I go looking for them. I don't just want to play a game with a group of friendly, normal people who either make polite conversation or say nothing at all. Where's the fun in that?
I seek out these dysfunctional jerks. I relish seeing another player make a dumb move, anticipating the visceral reaction. I have my own little mind games that I like to play with them. Especially the really cruel ones. I wait until they've dumped two or three viscious insults on someone else, then I chime in with a simple comment such as "Are you always this nice?" or "It's been a real long time since you've had sex, hasn't it?" Sometimes they'll back off, or even leave the game, other times they'll turn their wrath on me, and it becomes an insult war. Except it's a war in which I've already got an unshakeable advantage, since they started it, and I'm merely responding to their lack of control. They can toss expletives and anger in any form, and I usually continue with calm, sarcastic reactions. "Hey, I'm sorry if you can't get anyone to go with you to the Junior Prom, but don't take it out on us!" "Do you wipe your butt with the same fingers that type those words?" "Excuse me while I convulse in derisive laughter."
Okay, so it's not exactly curing diseases in Somalia or standing in front of oncoming tanks in Chechnya. But I like to feel I'm doing my small part to make the virtual world a better place.
DT
Recent ramblings: Today
Republican Cock Fights (1/23/00) Democratic Prime Rib (2/1/00) Reform This (2/20/00) As promised, today we present a comprehensive guide to the Republican Presidential candidates. This now is our third installment in American Politics 2000, a required course in the degree program, How to Survive Democracy. As Campaign 2000 lurches toward new lows of incivility, silliness, and tedium, we bring you the final hope of the American voter: No, not cyanide, I'm talking about the Reform Party.
(Click Elsewhen for the complete list)
© 2000 David N. Townsend
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