Multiplayer, in any of its various incarnations can be a very polarising experience. One minute you’re eradicating everything in you’re path. Bathing the environments in the coagulant blood of your vanquished foes. Anticipating every conceivable disputant. Manoeuvring quicker than a 70’s television personality dodging rap allegations. And then there are the matches that completely pass you by. You’re efforts are minimal. Every procedure you try to actualise fails and you spend the majority of the match searching for teammates that have abandoned you. Before long you’re alone, isolated by the team, with the accuracy of a blind storm-trooper. By the end you’re being derided by a teenager as he boasts about banging you’re mother while his friend is “popping and locking” over you’re slowly decaying carcass. Surviving competitive multiplayer certainly requires a degree of restraint, patience and a fortified resiliency to the puerile commentary of its users and multiple cases of getting you’re butt well and truly kicked. So it’s important to consider what role you will play within any given team. You’ve probably already observed what you’re own strengths are just through simple trial and error. Having an identifiable role within a squad of diverse players could be the difference between winning and losing.
You see before I had accepted my limitations, that I’m just not a very good online player, my agitation at being repeatedly foiled by mobilised contingency of high pitched enclaves would evoke a particularly profane retaliation. I would verbalise my frustrations with all the venomous intensity of Gordon Ramsay burning his hand on a tray full of chicken nuggets, which wasn’t being interpreted as ambitious fervour. More a measure of my mental volatility and juvenile proclivity to emote with a creative flurry of vocalised threats, directed at no one and subsequently gnaw on the controller like an agitated rat. I have a natural aversion to anyone better than I am, which is practically everyone. I’m not, nor will I ever be the most proficient player on anyone’s team, but I contribute enough to be regarded as a valuable asset amongst a more illustrious contingent. Providing substantial ancillary support that produces vital amenities most players choose to ignore. Such as requesting backup from a sniper, healing downed confederates or isolating enemy locations. Granted I’m only supplying modest kills but assisting in areas in addition to the overall cause of killing or assisting in “scoring one more goal than the other team” you’re randomly generated opponents that equates to increased adhesion within the team, with us as a unit becoming the beneficiary of each individuals contribution. From my own cursory experience one exemplary individual will get annihilated by a team that works together. Covering, assisting, communicating; these are all invaluable commodities within a group. Exceptional quality can only achieve so much before its stunted by even the most average of cohesive teams, symptomatic of a team deprived of focus. It is beneficial to acquire the skills of great individuals with all the efficiency, penetration and accuracy of Eddie Murphy’s sperm, but not essential.
My measurable expertise in assisting superior players has resulted in a number of favourable wins simply by keeping them alive, much to the chagrin of the opposition. Of course you’ll on occasion going to have to deal with an erratic, selfish debutante who thinks their Rambo, with an exceptional penchant for rash/stupid manoeuvres that will see them die and resurrected more times than Jesus at Jigsaws work shop, but even that can be nullified by a well organised team galvanised by interpreting whichever deadly situations arise. Even perennial mediocrity can produce incredible feats of valour if the team works together to cover each other. As good as Lionel Messi is, he wouldn’t win any matches without the continued support of his team.