ByMatthew Bailey, writer at Creators.co
Husband. Father. Gamer. Cinema Lover. Mix it all together, and there I am. I love all things pop-culture and coffee; but coffee is the best.
Matthew Bailey

Well, Im back to writing sooner than I anticipated. My wife and I just returned from the hospital after she gave birth to our second son, Travis James. I was planning on starting this newest 5 day challenge. We've seen movies, tv and now were into video games.

The 5 days break down like this:

Day 1: A game that makes you rage out like Hulk

Day 2: Best multiplayer game

Day 3: Longest binge on one game

Day 4: Game you play over and over

Day 5: Game that should be re-released or get a sequel

So, here I sit with my 3 year old, Brycen, watching Johnny Test on my iPad while Travis stares in my general direction completely unsure of basically everything around him. I stare back at him and feel Brycen trying to climb onto my shoulders while I start to think about what I could possibly write about for day 1. I am, for the most part, a non-rager when it comes to video games. Im pretty mellow 99.99% of my day, and I just take things as they come. Now, I wasn't always that way, I used to game-rage with the best of them. I would freak out, throw my controller down and turn my game off in frustration and walk away fuming... only to return to the game shortly, determined to beat whatever just caused me to lose my cool.

Long ago, back before I got my Xbox 360, my rage out moment was when I used my last ultra ball and still didnt catch the pokemon that I 'needed'! I raged constantly about that all the way through the evolution of the game from Original Gameboy to Gameboy Advance and finally to Nintendo DS beforw I finally started raging out on one game that probably is you rage-worthy game genre too.

The First Person Shooter.

I first fell into the addiction of the FPS when I played Halo with a couple of my best friends. I enjoyed it, mostly because I had a quicker reflex and more accurate trigger finger. So I thought all was well. I could easily beat them, so it should be no problem to join in the online fray.

I bided my time until I came into possession of my very first Xbox system. I won a 360 from a contest and it came with a year of Xbox Live. So what was the first game I bought? Yep, you guessed it: the titular FPS at the time (and still arguably at the top) Call of Duty: Modern Warfare.

Thus began my descent into rage quiting.

I jumped online and was pretty much just okay. I leved up just fine and was met with a decent kill/death ratio. Until THEY showed up: The Noob Tuber.

Yes, the weakest and most childish FPS player. The lame little 12 year old kid who didnt care about actual statistics nor did they care about mastering their skills in the game, instead they equiped an assault rifle with grenade launcher as well as a rocket launcher and ran around firing off grenade after grenade followed by a rocket because they also had the scavenger perk which would replenish their ammunition as they wandered over their unexpecting victims.

My inner Hulk-rage monster reared its ugly head.

I screamed at the tv. I screamed into my headset at the 12 year old punks that I knew they were, calling them things that I'd probably be embarrassed to admit I actually uttered out loud... yet it all happened. I vowed upon every vowable object that I would hunt them down amd they would suffer.

I wanted nothing less that to go all Liam Neeson on them and hunt them down and bring down swift and perfect vengeance. But alas I was never able to gain the upper hand against them. I rage-quit every game session I came across where there was an obvious Noob Tuber, then I would report them to the COD Server authority that ultimately was probably just a server that collected the data and nothing was ever done besides it quenching my thirst for making them suffer in the off chance that they would be removed from the game all together. They weren't but I felt mild satisfaction nevertheless.

After the NoobTuber fiasco, I vowed to never play again. That lasted until the following November when Black Ops was released.

I regressed. I fell back into the addiction. I needed a 10 step program, but I chose my addiction rather than finding help. I went on game binges with one of my best friends, we played for hours, sometimes even days together.

It was the best of times... it was the worst of times...

As we played, I discoved a new abomination that brought out my inner Hulk rage. The super secret camping sniper.

Seriously?! Again with the aggravating plater that lacked enough skill to join in the fray of a gunfight? I couldn't believe it. I was determined to hunt every single sniper down.

I spent the remainder of my gaming sessions hunting the snipers down to bring them swift justice, usually in the form of a bullet or knife to the back of the head. I felt vindicated. I felt as though the world made sense again.

I attempted to change FPS games and tried a short stint with Battlefield only to have similar issues and misgivings. I fought through the rage-quits as long as I could only to finally just give the final

Whatever... I don't care anymore...

Now with my understanding of my own inner rage, I channel it better. When I have a long day at work, rather tham going postal on a coworker... I vent my anger into hunting down noob tubers, campers or quick snipers.

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