valve flooded

As I waited in line to purchase my copy of Half Life 2, an uncharacteristically weightless box in hand, I thought about what game had me this excited before. Probably Call of Duty, but before that I doubt there was a game that was able to stir my emotions to the point where I would cease to exist should I not be able to play it upon release. Some might say that I should have gotten the game over Steam, and indeed they would be correct. Any service that allows the purchase and instantaneous acquisition of a game exactly one minute into the release day should be commendable. However, there's something comforting about getting physical media with my purchase, as I would not have to depend on a soft copy for re-installation.

I prepared my hard drive like I was expecting an important guest - upgraded video drivers, freed up space, and cleaned the putrid film off of my monitor. Maybe that last one wasn't entirely true, but there were some fingerprints. The 4.5 GB footprint is a new record, I think, as the previous holder may have been the PC port of Metal Gear Solid 2: Substance at 4 GB. What really disappointed me were the paper sleeves for the five CDs. I thought this disturbing trend was publisher-specific: I know my copies of UT 2003 and Neverwinter Nights went immediately into jewel cases while cursing the name of Atari. At $60 a box, one would think that the publisher would help us out with a little "value added" plastic case for these monstrous games. And the manual, or lack thereof, was printed on both sides of a 4x6 piece of cardstock. I know first person shooters are fairly conventional, but a little backstory or some nice art - something to pass the time while you're installing the thing - would have been nice.

Regardless of the game's delivery method, you still need to authenticate your game. This was strange indeed, given that the software isn't an operating system. And so in a great showing of audacity befitting of a celebrated developer, Valve did not anticipate an onrush of account creations and game authentications on the day of release, and let their customers annihilate their servers. And some report a wait of hours before being able to play a game they physically bought.

In typical fanboy fashion, players took to the message boards with untamed fury at their fingertips, decrying Valve as perpetrators of some crime against the fiercely devoted. Still, I do agree with the foamy-mouthed mob to some degree, as the amount of registration hoops I had to jump through to play a game I had in my hands was unnerving to say the least. And having to use a proprietary tool to start said game that is technically already installed on my computer, was adding an unnecessary layer of complexity. I appreciate what Valve is trying to do here, and all of the smug bastards that pre-loaded the game over Steam have been happily playing since the game went live early this morning. But to unleash a service like this on the unsuspecting consumer who simply wants to play, only to collapse under the demand, seems a bit unfair.

When I began to play though, these maladjusted thoughts quickly melted away, cast aside as petty inconveniences before the ultimate rapture. I confess that this onrush of euphoria could be compared to my first hours with Doom 3, but I find it strangely exhilarating that a game can make me fear for my life without a fiery skull or darkened corridor dripping with blood. And as much as it grieves me to admit, Half Life 2 makes me want to buy a new computer.

it took a lifespan