I Play Fighting Games and Befriend Failure
What I learn when everything is on me
Fighting games feel more daunting than any other genre and there is a reason for that. It is designed without any checkpoint, level mechanic, and teammates. It’s just 2 players competing against each other.
Winning in a fighting game demands my knowledge about the character I use, knowing the opponent’s character, and adapting to their playstyle. Each character has lots of move sets that I have to remember, know their use when to use, and execute them well. Long story short, it demands my experience. It means I have to deal with lots of mistakes, losses, learning, and messy stuff. I couldn’t even count how many times the “YOU LOSE” screen slaps my face and forces me to see the opponent’s character flexing their win.
Though it’s not a comfortable learning environment, the mentality I gained through so many hours of losing gives benefits to my life outside the game. So, here they are:
Yes, failing is painful, but the pain is helpful.
I learned not to mess with fire because getting burned is painful, and not to eat super spicy food because diarrhea is painful. Pain saves my life. So, why is the pain of failure any different? Maybe because it is less physical on what to do when I fail. It is less spontaneous than pulling my hand away from fire. I need to draw back and identify first.
When I play online for the first few hours, I didn’t realize that I needed to guard and wait when the opponent attacks with a faster move. It sounds so simple, but it is not obvious in the heat of battle. After a while, I learned to bait some punches, guard when they release their punch, and immediately attack as their hand draws back from punching. It is a reflex I can’t build overnight, and at that time I need someone to point my mistakes out.
I respect hours of experience more.
Especially one filled with focus and dedication, I cannot in any way cheat it. As mentioned above, I can’t build certain reflexes or improvise in the heat of battle overnight. It takes time and practice. It doesn’t mean old people are better. Seriously, I get wrecked by 15 years old kids in these games a good bunch of times. And when I look at their profile, it’s so obvious, that they played hundreds of hours more on that game than I. They are focused and dedicated, and it is respectable.
If I want to win, I have to gain some hours of experience. It can’t be cheated. No amount of video tutorials will save me on this, I have to try and learn from mistakes.
No one has it all figured out.
After playing for 40ish hours, people started to add me online. After that, usually, we create a private room to spar together and give each other feedback. A more experienced player would train me more than I could give back (again, not necessarily an older player. And yes, I’m mentored by 15 YOs). When I asked them, they said they enjoy teaching others and welcoming them to the genre. It is a genuine passion shared within a supportive yet competitive community.
The members are really warm and welcoming. They usually share online guides or discuss character move changes. It’s a growing community that understands that there is no such thing as an “end game” in fighting games. Even the pros are so humble and said they still have much to learn. They don’t take losing so badly. Even when people meet offline, they shake hands after the battle. Winning and losing are a part of the journey after all.
Looking back at my life outside the game today, I am glad I found a work environment similar to the fighting game community I joined. My leader is supportive of my growth, and my company gives lots of access to study materials and partnered with a psychology center to help me be my best self. Thank you Qasir for being a good work environment for me. Couldn’t ask for more.
All in all, I am glad I played fighting games (you might want to try too :P), I found a good community within, and gained a good mentality toward failure and take it as a part of my journey. Now I knew, I will truly fail when I stop.
