No Time for Video Games Anymore

When the doctor pointed out my son’s penis to us on the ultra-sound over 14 years ago I remember thinking “poor bastard, it doesn’t look very big,” but soon after that I started getting very excited thinking about all the things I’d do with my son as he got older.  We would play catch together.  We’d go to the batting cages together.  We’d watch action movies together.  We’d talk about sports and sports cars.  We’d scope out chicks.  We’d have silly, “secret” handshakes.  We’d have inside jokes that would infuriate his mother.  And we’d play a ton of video games together, because at the time I played a ton of video games.

Hell, 14 years ago I was in the middle of a grinding 82-game schedule on EA Sports NHL hockey.  I was in the process of taking a very mediocre Blackhawks team to the Stanley Cup championship.  I had made some shrewd trades (getting Saku Koivu from the Montreal Canadians for Eric Daze was pure genius), and I called up a young, ruggedly handsome right winger named Clay Whipple who went on to score 52 goals in route to the MVP that year.  It is still one of my bigger video game accomplishments . . . the other one of course being the FULL SEASON of Tecmo Bowl Football my college roommate and I played in ONE NIGHT taking the New York Jets to the Super Bowl.  We took a fair amount of ribbing from our other two roommates . . . I’m pretty sure they called us “losers” and “junkies” throughout the night . . . but six hours, two large pizzas and about a gallon of Mountain Dew later the Jets were Super Bowl champs.

But with a son on the way, I no longer had to play video games alone or fear ridicule from someone else.  I would play games with my son, and no one could say anything to me other than “oh, isn’t that nice that Clay and Chase are playing video games together.” 

But a funny thing happened along the way . . . I stopped playing video games.  Sure, I’ve played countless hours of catch with both my sons.  And I have spent a small fortune at the batting cages with them.  And there have been plenty of Jason Statham action flicks, and lots of discussions on sports, cars and women between us.  Heck, I admit I’ve even had a couple different secret handshakes with the boys.  But not a lot of video game play. 

Now they play video games.  Oh we have Play Station systems and Xbox systems and Wii systems, and you name it.  Our family is single-handedly helping keep the video game industry alive and well, but I have not played much.  Although my younger son does often insist that I watch him play – and watch replays.

And it’s not like I don’t like them anymore.  Hell evey time I see one of those amazing ads for Call of Duty or Grand Theft Auto on TV . . . more complex and otherworldly than any movie trailer . . . I wonder why I stopped playing video games.

Now, I admit the first-person shooter games are not my “cup of tea.”  I’ve played a few of those with my boys, but I don’t really understand them.  When I do play my kids get a big kick out of shooting me, stabbing me and blowing me up with grenades.  My son Jack once called in an air strike to blow up the building I was hiding out in.  One minute I was there, and the next minute the entire building came down on top of me.  He just giggled. 

But the sports games like NHL hockey are still around, and they are EVEN BETTER than they once were.  It’s almost like watching a real sporting event on TV.  The graphics are simply amazing.  But I still don’t really play them.  I just can’t get into it.

Now some of this has to do with how complex these video games have gotten.  You cannot just pick up a new game and start playing.  Oh no.  You need to read the instruction manual, and then you probably need to go onto YouTube and find someone to explain the game to you.  Gaming isn’t like bowling or voting, which you can do every few years without knowing anything.  Gaming is serious business, and if you take a couple years off . . . like I have . . . it’s tough to get back into it and pick it up where you left off.

Honestly I know the most logical excuse is to say that “I’m too busy,” but I think that would be untrue.  After all I’m not too busy to watch TV, watch porn, read magazines or walk the dog.   

I think at the end of the day the real reason I stopped playing video games is that for the first time in my life I am much more aware of time slipping by.  Ironically, what I used to love about video games is now what I like least about them.  I used to love being able to escape into my video games and lose myself for a couple hours, but now I am VERY aware of those hours.  I find myself saying “I will never get this time back” when talking about things like Reality TV, and Little League Baseball Practice, and Car Washes, and Foreplay, and Video Games. 

I think my acute awareness of time is the reason I can’t watch an entire major league baseball game anymore.  Sure, the sub-standard play of my beloved Cubs isn’t helping that, but I just can’t sit there for three plus hours watching baseball knowing I’ll never get this time back.  It’s why I don’t play golf . . . well that and my inability to hit the ball straight.  And it’s probably why I can’t watch an entire porn scene . . . though in all fairness that may have to do with other issues.    

My oldest will be heading to college in a few short years – and I know that there’s no more time to waste.

But I will always look back on my video game days with fond memories.  Hey I’ll always have the ’98 Hawks run to the championship on EA Sports NHL Hockey.  It was magical.  One for the record books.  I wonder what happened to that talented right winger?

In Trouble Again

More and more I find myself giving my boys advice like “stay young” and “enjoy your youth” and “just have fun being a kid.”  I know this probably makes me sound a little old, and I’m sure neither of my kids really appreciates this advice, but I still can’t stop myself from offering this advice whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Of course my boys (especially my 11-year old) want nothing more than to be older.  Not a week goes by where one of them isn’t bemoaning the fact that they’re not old enough to drive, or to see an R-rated movie, or go on a date, and so on.  The last thing they want to do right now is “stay young.” 

And I think a lot of that has to do with getting in trouble.  No one likes getting in trouble, and yet when you’re a kid you pretty much feel like you’re in trouble all the time.  I think kids figure that as soon as they’re adults no one is yelling at you or catching you doing something you shouldn’t be doing.  I really think kids think that you’re “in the clear” once you’re an adult. 

Unfortunately this is simply not the case, and I think maybe subconsciously this is one of the reasons that I continue to preach “staying young.”  I’m an adult.  Hell I’m approaching my 40^th birthday, and I’m constantly in trouble, and I’m constantly getting caught doing things that I shouldn’t be doing.

For instance take the time my wife caught me peeing in the utility sink in the laundry room.  Now this was simply because I was in the middle of a big hockey game on XBOX and didn’t want to run upstairs to pee, but nonetheless I got caught and my wife read me the riot act.  Frankly I’m shocked she caught me.  I was in the laundry room peeing in the utility sink.  The laundry room.  The utility sink.  I didn’t think my wife knew we had either a laundry room OR a utility sink. 

Or take the time my wife passed out in the bathroom and I took pictures of her on the floor.  I even framed it so that I showed her relationship to the toilet (Annie Liebovitz eat your heart out).  Showed them to her the next day and I got in trouble.

There was the time my wife caught me motioning for my son to check out the well endowed woman sitting at the table across from us.  It was only because she was wearing a see-through top and had either been blessed by the good Lord or had one of the best plastic surgeons around, but nonetheless I had a long conversation with my wife later about being a responsible adult. 

Of course I continue to get in trouble for smacking my wife’s ass and for making inappropriate comments to her, but for the most part she does nothing more than flash a few dirty looks my way.  However that all changed the night we were having dinner at her parent’s house and my youngest son Jack blurted out “Mom, you have one sexy ass.”  Fortunately we had already said grace, but still, not good.  I got more than a few dirty looks later that night when we got home. 

And I’ve gotten into trouble more than once for talking, in detail, to friends about my sex life.  Now obviously I’m only doing this when I’m out with the guys, and I’m being VERY flattering  to my wife, but apparently the graphic details are somehow going from my friends to their wives and then somehow from their wives back to my wife who in turn scolds me.  I’ve argued that calling her extremely flexible or very willing is in fact a compliment, but for some reason she feels differently and I continue to get into trouble for talking about “that stuff.”

And of course, I continue to get into trouble for not paying bills on time and for using foul language in front of the boys and for letting the dog jump up on the couch, and so on. 

Basically I’m in trouble from the moment I wake up until I go to bed at night, which is pretty much how my boys probably feel, but they don’t have to worry about paying mortgage and making car payments and keeping food on the table and so on. 

So as I said before, “stay young as long as you can.” 

I really think it’s good advice.

The Assistant Coach

So I’ve volunteered to be an assistant coach for my older son’s baseball team.  This is actually the 2^nd time I’ve volunteered to be a coach.  It’s not necessarily my idea of a good time, but my son really enjoys it, and he’s smart enough to know that if I’m coaching, I probably can get him a few extra innings on the mound or a few more innings in center field (which is his favorite position despite his serious lack of speed). 

I made sure to volunteer as an ASSISTANT coach so that I would have some responsibilities, but not many.  Basically, I get to pal around with the kids and play ball with them while the head coach has to deal with the league directors and the 14-year-old umpires and the parents.  If we win, I’ll take a fair amount of credit and will probably land some half-way decent “coach’s gift” at the end of the season, and if we lose, I get to shrug my shoulders and second guess the head coach’s decisions the same way all the other parents do. 

It’s a win-win for me.  I get to be in the dugout with the team during the games and yet I’m really just one level above the kids who play on the team.  If the equipment is lost it’s not my fault.  If a kid goes to the wrong field it’s not my fault.  If a pitcher is left in a little too long and gives up a game-winning home run . . . . . it ain’t my fault.  I’M JUST THE ASSISTANT COACH!  I hit fungos to the boys during practice.  I steal their Gatorade.  I pitch batting practice.  I flirt with their moms during the game.  I joke with their dads.  The more I think about it, the more I’m liking this job, and frankly I’m perfectly cut out for it.

I’m more or less an assistant coach in life.  At least at home I am.  My wife is clearly the head coach and has to make all the tough decisions and gets dumped on when those decisions fail or backfire, and I’m just here to occasionally share in the praise or the compliments while doing little more than basically playing with the boys, well, that and cleaning the house.

For instance I purchased the air soft rifles for the boys.  Easy.  No problem.  It didn’t take a whole lot of effort or a whole lot of thought on my part, and yet I was a hero with my kids.  My wife had to make the much harder and far less popular decision to take them away after the boys decided to take target practice in their rooms.  We still have holes in the dry wall. 

I build forts with them in their rooms using every blanket and sheet and pillow we have.  It’s a blast.  The boys love it.  We load up the Nerf guns and play army.  My wife has to be the one who takes the whole thing down after she realizes that I’ve used thumb-tacks to secure the blankets and sheets to the walls (hey, in my defense the walls were already riddled with bullet marks from the air soft guns – I actually used this argument – it wasn’t my best argument ever).

I get to play NHL 2010 on the XBOX while my wife has to do homework.  By the way, speaking of NHL 2010 . . . . I played an entire season and won the Stanley Cup.  I created a player named Clay Whipple, and he scored 207 points and went on to win the MVP award.  I’ve never had an opportunity to talk about this, so this just seemed like the right time.

And I get to sneak them dessert even if they haven’t finished their dinner.  My wife gets to. . . well actually she gets mad at me on this one.  The boys don’t feel her wrath on the dessert thing.  This one is probably going to stop.  The head coach has threatened to fire the assistant coach if this doesn’t stop.

Overall though, I’m a great assistant coach, and I’m looking forward to the start of the baseball season.  I just hope the head coach lets me know when the first game is.