When streaming, the love of the game is the game. This used to bother me, and then I became an adult. I know deep within me that I will never be one of the all-time killers. On a good day, I’m above average at 3rd Strike, a game I have played at least once per week for many, many years. Your goal: find one that you can cling to and stick with it. Plenty of people make their Twitch hay with Animal Crossing, Minecraft-building, or simply living as a tourist in Souls games. Your chosen game doesn’t have to be something as competitive as fighting games. These are topics of conversation that your stream can now explore. In 3rd Strike’s case, there are still tournaments being held and new techniques to be found in a game over 20 years old. Zeroing in on a game also gives you opportunities to talk about that game in capacities outside of playing it. Playing one game consistently helps you not only work on your own skills, but lets you adjust to speaking while playing if it’s a game that you know well. Jumping from game to game does you no favors, especially if you’re not a known commodity. I was getting a small, but consistent, viewership, made up of other folks that were stuck at home killing time for the pandemic to end, too.įighting games are ideal for this streaming strategy, especially games as old and studied as 3rd Strike. It is, after all, the only game that matters. As a frothing Street Fighter III: 3rd Strike junky, my lunchtime became sacrosanct: finish work, inhale some food, play 3rd Strike. Working remotely, I found that hooking up old consoles to capture cards and fighting sometimes finicky PC setups took a back seat to the ease of plugging in an arcade stick and firing up Fightcade on my lunch breaks to decompress for a bit. Over the past year and a half, I, like many, had some extra time on my hands at home. But, by laying down a few simple rules, sticking with them, and following my own strange muse, streaming has been rewarding for me outside of the monetary benefits. As the definition of a small-time streamer, I don’t make a living off playing games on the internet. Then I stumbled upon a streaming gimmick, and one that pays its own kind of dividends. It turns out, I was doing it wrong, and you probably are, too. I, too, was alone in the streaming wilderness without a guiding light. I was once like you - streaming the occasional Souls game or run of Symphony of the Night as I scratched my head at my small viewership with zero interaction. To add insult to injury, apathy was so high at this point that few critics even bothered to review it.I see you there, wondering how you can differentiate among the many game streams out there, how yours can rise above the noise. Instead, Tony Hawk: Ride wanted to charge players $120 for the "pleasure" of looking like an awkward goof in their living room - and not even delivering a basically fun time.ĭespite the game bombing both with critics and at retail, Activision re-used Ride's peripheral one more time in their follow-up, Tony Hawk: Shred, which in an even greater feat of desperation introduced a snowboarding mode. There's something to be said for foregoing the skinned knees and instead pulling off a 1080 spin from the comfort of your couch. Activision's fatal misunderstanding, really, was thinking that the millions of people who played the Tony Hawk's series were all actually interested in doing it for real. As far as daft gimmicks go it wasn't an inherently bad one, albeit executed with so little finesse as to suggest it was a desperate rush-job effort to revitalise the franchise.Ĭritics and players alike near-universally trashed Ride for its frustratingly fiddly and unresponsive peripheral, while the accompanying software simply didn't make for a fun or interesting game.Įxecuting even basic moves felt like a chore, and so there was nothing remotely intuitive about it.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |