It was announced as this week’s number one game, so why not cover the subject? Yes folks, I’m talking about the FIFA series of videogames. Those of you who don’t care about games, gaming and gameritis may as well just bugger the hell off right now. Go on. Piss right off. You won’t care about this. Well, Anna might, but the rest of you who don’t care about games haven’t really witnessed this phenomenon of which I will speak.
For you see, I suffer from intense, uncontrollable and utterly ridiculous bouts of rage brought on by FIFA games. I should come clean: these rage-bouts existed in the world before Pro Evo (though I was FIFA until International Superstar Soccer was released, so it’s ‘after-before’, really). Fury – unmitigated fury because a videogame based on tiny fake men running around a tiny fake pitch haven’t done what I wanted them to do. FIFA, Pro Evo then FIFA again have all done this to me. I shout, I swear, I get sweaty hands as an offshoot of my sheer rage. I act like a complete moron.
But I still love FIFA. The fact that the game can push me to such ridiculous extremes of emotion and yet still drag me back in for more must be testament for something. It simply must be doing something right. For every astonishingly pointless defensive error there’s a shot pinged in from 30 yards. For every foul that just isn’t a foul, there’s a wonderful jinking run from the wily defensive midfielder. And for every time your opponent scores even though they’re shit and really shouldn’t score, there’s a moment where you do the same to your mate and the stars just seem to align.
I hate you FIFA (and previously Pro Evo), I really do. You’re a bastard, you put me in a bad mood and you can ruin whole minutes of my life through your sheer moronic foolishness. But I love you so much, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.