Return on Investment

Most of Remap, aka everyone not named Janet, is a little on the older side. We have to pick our battles when it comes to games we play, especially games we finish. I mean, who could possibly finish Despelote?

But in all seriousness, even when our jobs demand us to play games in unorthodox and rushed ways, the reality is that if our jobs were to disappear overnight, we'd probably still have many of the same struggles.

Patrick decided to return to a spring favorite, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, and found the experience to be a combination of frustration, excitement, and clarity. Plus, he asks Rob if he's broken any bones.

Patrick: A few times over this past year, Rob, I’ve noticed myself spending 10-15 hours with a video game, yapping on the podcast about the great time I’m having, and then moving onto the next one. While it’s true that our jobs require and reward spending a little time with a game instead of a lot, it’s not as though I don’t have any free time to spend as I please. I could have kept playing Avowed if I wanted, I could have found time for more Assassin’s Creed: Shadows. 

Those are both games that I would have said, in reductive terms, I’m enjoying 8/10. That’s enough to spend more time, to see what else might be hiding in the world. To have enough conversation for a podcast requires far less than 15 hours, yet I put that and more into both.

It would be say I’ll find time for them again later this year, but in reality, I probably won’t.

The game I refuse to let this happen to, however, is Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. I dropped 20 hours into that one by the time I allowed its grip on me to release, freeing me to try games like Deliver at all Costs and Pipistrello and the Cursed Yoyo, but Clair Obscur was different. Clair Obscur was not an 8/10 that I could see myself spending more time with, it was 10/10. Special.

A few nights back, I booted up Deliver at All Costs, which—look, brief tangent. You cannot predict where the story goes in that game. It has so much story. It has so much story! At a certain point, it seems to forget that its core appeal is being a fun physics-driven driving game! It leaves all that behind to tell, of all things, a sci-fi story! Even though I’ve spoiled that bit for you, there is no chance you have any idea where that story tries to go before the credits begin to roll!

Anyway, I’m not sure if I’m endorsing that people play that game. But I’m glad I did.

The point is that credits rolled way faster than I was expecting, leaving me with an hour to play something else. We’d just recorded the podcast, so it was a moment to indulge my own whims, so why not return to Clair Obscur? Well, because that means returning to a video game with some pretty damn intricate systems while being more than a month removed from using them.

When I shattered my collarbone, I entered physical therapy a few months later. The therapist asked me to lie down and try to lift some small weights. They warned that lifting weights with my previously injured arm would be difficult—but it’s normal. 20lb weight? Couldn’t move it. 10lb weight? Couldn’t budge it. 5lb weight? Buddy, I’m staring at this thing trying to use the Force and nothing’s happening. My atrophy was bad but, again, still normal. It took months of hard, annoying work to get things back into shape. You know, much like grinding one does in a JRPG.

I knew I wanted to love Clair Obscur again, but it also meant putting in work to love Clair Obscur again. Where was I at in the story? What style of play was I leaning into with this character? Rather than worry about all that, I just started playing. I barely knew what I was doing, but in time, memory matched reality. I haven’t found the enthusiasm to dip into the most annoying parts of that game, aka the equipping and unequipping of skills, but I’ll get there.

The nice part is knowing it’ll be worth it. Janet’s finished the game and is ready to scream about it from the top of a mountain. Our tastes are basically aligned, which helps give me the motivation, much like a physical therapist, to put in the time and work to get back into things.

Still, it’s weird to view this as “work.” How have you handled similar situations?

P.S. My five-year-old broke her arm last week. Have you broken anything before? 

Rob: Broken anything? No. But I tore my ACL playing football in high school. We were doing a tackle drill, third practice of the day, everyone was tired. I was sluggish and didn’t get as low as I should have to absorb the hit, the guy tackling me didn’t really use any form he just kind of hurled himself at my shoulders. If I hadn’t been wearing such nice new cleats I might have been fine, but my lower left leg stayed planted while the rest of me arced down to the left from my waist. The pain was instant and unlike anything I’d experienced before. For a beat, I couldn’t see. Was literally blinded for a long second or two, probably just from complete sensory overload.

It was a stupid way to get hurt, though there are times I also wonder how many programs are still doing full contact practices for six or seven hours a day. I was in the absolute best shape of my life at that moment, the guy who hit me was also in terrific shape. We were just tired because it was the final twenty minutes of our third practice of the day.