TRACKMANIA TURBO
The competitive time trial racer from Nadeo.
It’s good to know your limits. It’s good to heed the warning signs.
Mostly it’s an instinct thing and sometimes you just know how this is going to go, friend.
It’s sad, but true: some games are just not good for you…
I have pals who thrive on the competition of Trials, locked in a constant battle to perfect a course and climb up the leader boards — a seemingly never ending chase to set the best time.
I have pals who thrive on the challenge of Dark Souls, forever getting their asses handed to them only to stand up and try again — with steely eyed focus to get better and master it.
That ain’t me.
I get the appeal. It’s an addictive feeling of progression, of skill honing. Mostly it’s that moment of undiluted triumph that you’ve just got to feel again. You might not even be having a whole lot of fun, but this feeling of elation pushes those riled up moments down and makes you want to press on. If designed well these games are often more than fair, just requiring a commitment of concentration, patience, and an assumption that you want to spend your down time doing this. This should be relaxing to you. This should be your version of fun.
I would be lying if I said this was really my particular brand of fun.
I play video games not so much for the challenge, but for the escapism…
Truth be told, I have obsessive compulsive disorder. My mind doesn’t work in the same ways as most and is often a swirling hive of activity, even if it looks like I’m sprawled across my couch doing nothing. I know how to deal with it, but I know that this genre isn’t conducive to someone with my brand of crazy. I spend my downtime soothing this particular beast, not poking it with a stick. Even without taking the crazy into consideration, I feel like I just don’t have the patience for these kinds of games. I prefer to spend this mental energy elsewhere.
What’s all this got to do with TrackMania Turbo though? Is there method to this rambling madness? Is this just my elaborate way of saying I never played it? What gives?!
Calm down. Geez. This is me confirming that TrackMania set off these warning signs.
Some games are just not good for you…
So, is there any thing you can do if you know this in advance?
I decided there would be some self-imposed conditions of entry.
I approached this game with a different attitude. I knew it was going to push my buttons if I let it, I wasn’t going to though. I wasn’t going to take things too seriously. I wasn’t going to become the obsessive kind of competitive. I wasn’t going to play when the game stopped being fun. I was going to hone my skill and learn from my mistakes, but not at the expense of stressing myself out. I wasn’t going to allow myself to have marathon sessions either, this was an experience best had in short bursts. Concentrating on this could be a way to relax.
It occurs to me that this might be a good time to actually elaborate on what this damn thing is!
TrackMania Turbo superficially looks like a racing game, but that’s not entirely true. It’s not unlike Trials where you’re chasing a best time, rather than beating an opponent to the finish line. The tracks are short, dangerous, and often over-the-top. It’s almost the car equivalent of Dark Souls where you’ve got to apply skills and precision to the track if you want to master it. The game itself often tells you that it’s easy to learn, but tough to master. Difficulty will incrementally ramp up as you unlock medals to progress further. Good times!
When this game’s fun, it’s really fun. I found myself genuinely enjoying the challenge at first.
The tracks are so short that any mistake can pretty much mess up your chances, so the game intuitively lets you restart in an instant without a loading screen. Believe me when I say you will make good friends with this button over the course of the game. Seconds make the difference from getting a gold metal to no metal at all. It does get addictive working your way up the leader board and you do feel that elation at setting new times. I constantly reminded myself of the conditions I had self-imposed to play this game under. So far, so good…
There are just so many tracks here, routinely alternating from a selection of four diverse themes to keep things fresh. There’s the deserts of Canyon Grand Drift, the off-road terrain of Down & Dirty Valley, the tropical shores of Rollercoaster Lagoon, and the sleek spectacle of International Stadium –settings that all have their own unique vehicles and gameplay hooks. I found myself favouring some of these locales over others. I started taking note of how often enjoying this game specifically came down to where I was racing.
I’m not certain these frustrating locales were bad, just that they required a level of skill I didn’t possess and wasn’t invested enough to hone. I was slowly creeping towards my limits.
Soon enough the gold metals were turning to silver and silver to bronze. I was having fun up until this point, but I felt like TrackMania would soon begin to feel like a chore if I pressed on.
I admit I over stayed my welcome a little bit.
I was fully aware that I was beginning to ignore some of the conditions I set for myself. I was playing for longer sessions. I was obsessing a little too much over getting a better time. I was stressing myself out. I was pushing on when my instincts told me I’ve had enough. My conditions had served me well up until this point and served me well again when I decided that I didn’t need to 100% this game and it was more than okay to walk away.
It’s not you TrackMania Turbo, it’s me… It was fun while it lasted…
It’s good to know your limits. It’s good to heed the warning signs.
Some games are just not good for you…
Written by Dan Clarke. May 05, 2016.
Originally published at dcpresents.tumblr.com.
