Oh XBox 360, How I Long For Thee?

My friend Brett never responds to my text messages anymore. Why the hell does that matter to you?

Let me tell you the story.

It all started many years ago in a place I like to call the Aster House. Many who read this blog already are familiar with the A-House, but for those who are not it is/was the dwelling of many aspiring young college men. And rodents, roaches and other critters of the night, like the beloved host of this here blog. J-slash-K, as the venerable A-HouseMaster Blaine Clancy would say.

I digress. Back in 2003, the four members of the house — Blaine, Doogie, DCox and myself — began an exciting mission: We all wanted to try our hand at a glorious video game entitled NCAA 2004 for PlayStation 2. So we sat in the dark-walled living room around the coffee table with three good legs on an 85-degree day inside the house and choose teams. Blaine went with Colorado and its power rushing attack, Doogie liked the high-flying West Virginia Mountaineers, DCox liked the solid Iowa kicking game and I decided to undertake the great mission of them all: Turn little-known mid-major Bowling Green into a national powerhouse.

The seasons waxed and waned like the room temperature in the Aster House and each player saw both triumph and defeat. Doogie had begun working nights at Pluckers and would play his games very early in the morning. I often would wake up to watch him play his games, then go back to sleep until classes were over for the day. Blaine never passed the ball and won too many games by the score of 3 – 0. DCox led an unbalanced attack using only the goal-line formation, but often won on the leg of the great Nate Kaeding.

Meanwhile, I was blowing everyone out of the stadium. It did not take more than a season for Bowling Green to play for and win the National Championship. Behind the golden arm of Omar Jacobs and the power rushing game led by PJ Pope, Bowling Green became a perennial national contender under my watch. It was the best of times, and certainly not the worst of times.

After a few seasons of playing together, the four-man venture came to an end. Our schedules conflicted and some of the players could no longer keep up with the demanding game schedules. Impatience ruled. I needed more. So, I kept playing with Bowling Green after the dissolution, but eventually grew bored of my empty victories. I wanted more of a challenge.

I decided to start over. This time, I was going to do the unthinkable. I was going to play with a terrible team on the most challenging level of the game, Heisman. So I thought about all the terrible teams in college football. Sure, there are plenty. Yes, I could have been Tulane, but I chose another in-state school for my endeavor: The Louisiana Tech Bulldogs.

I will not go into the details of my venture with the Bulldogs, but if you must read about it I wrote a column for The Daily Reveille about the experience. Long story short, I won the National Championship after several losing seasons and a few winners. It was rewarding again.

What the hell was the point of that story? I wanted to demonstrate my love for video game college football. A love I lost long ago. But like all (or some?) great loves, it did not die. I carry it with me today, and only recently began to experiment with it again.

I went to high school with my friend Brett back in the day. We ran cross country and track for Slidell High, and even played a little ultimate frisbee between seasons. He moved back to Slidell to work after graduating from college, and I joined him a few months later when I landed a job in my former hometown.

At first our relationship was not about XBox 360. We went to the gym to workout together, had lunch on Fridays and discussed ultimate frisbee (he and I both played in college for different programs). Then one day he invited me back to his place to play XBox 360, and my love was rekindled. You see, Brett owns NCAA 2008 and I found it a far cry from the game I once dominated. This was much, much better.

He wiped the floor with me our first two matchups, but that only fueled my fire. The game was playing hard to get. So I played chase. I obsessively texted Brett every day to set up an NCAA 2008 rendezvous. At first, he obliged.

Then I started to win. Close games, at first, including a triple overtime thriller between Georgia and Hawaii (nothing like the actual meeting between the two in this year’s Sugar Bowl). And then I started to dominate. I would control the clock with an effective running game. My defense would utilize the bend-don’t-break mentality, waiting for my opponent to make a mistake. The separation in the scoreboard grew every game we played, despite the match-ups or home-field advantages. I had regained my old form.

And now Brett does not respond to my text messages. I try to dupe him by seeing if he wants to go the gym or the park to throw the frisbee. All the while I will contemplate how to get him to invite me back to his place to play XBox. He does not take the bait.

This is why I pine for an XBox 360 of my own. I even convinced my fiancee’ Sarah to include it on our next wedding registry.

Hint, hint.