Can a Gamer Live?

The UCI campus is a huge circle. Though the infrastructure is laid out to be an architect’s ultimate dream, some locations are hard to see unless you ask someone. The UCI Esports Arena is snugged in a corner across from the Anteater Pub. Giovanni Tam, a sophomore student from Vegas, fast-walked past the UCI Esports Arena. His classmate tried to catch up. Gio cussed and said to his friend–a huge chunk of his quarterly 47K tuition is spent making that place look good. I mean, look at the rainbow-lighted Slate 2 Pro PC stations, the flexible neon yellow gaming chairs, and its real, nice 55-inch TV screens. With iBuyPower, Logitech, and Rockstar Energy Drink as sponsors, the place is doused in electrical energy and color. 

Staff members sketched Valorant characters onto a gray pillar in pastels and hung multiple poster boards along the walls. The pictures are from games that they endorse: League, Overwatch, Hearthstone. The MSI 2023 championship LOL game in London, was played live on one of the TV screens and a Chinese student and his empty Share Tea boba spoke fervently in the back corner. 

Not too far away, a boy sucked his teeth hard in frustration. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath, hoping to stop the incoming enemy who was pounding on him, surrounding his team and the perimeter. He could be the type to call a gameplay “dog water" (rubbish, bad). He sucked in his teeth once more. If he lost, it was because the bottom frag chalked it up. In video gaming lingo, chalked means to mess up or it’s done for. A top frag scores the most hits. Bottom frag, the least hits. Not in public, but at home, players like him become emotionally invested and handle pushback from the opposing force by screaming their heads off. It’s everyone for themselves, he might say. Maybe teammates tried to direct him to a better position amid their play, but he ignored them. Who were they to tell him, the top frag, what to do? 

The UCI Varsity players sit in a separate long aisle, with glass panels in front. A South Korean Varsity player for League of Legends took out a Coke can, Subway sandwich, and Funyuns and placed them on his desk in a row. After playing a few rounds, he took off his mask and ate each one furtively. Skin pasty white, crooked teeth peeking a bit as he nibbled, the boy searched up a K-pop boy group performance and started watching. At the far end, sophomore UCI student Richie Tran yelled,

“There are four range minions. He’s pushing spawn!” His mic and headset emitted the sound of someone else’s reply.

Richie repeated,  “One heaven, two sites.” Heaven means he’s above the building. A site and B site are locations in the building. 

Where the staff eat and do homework at a coffee table, a Code of Conduct hangs behind them. 

A couple of the rules are interestingly specific and interrelated:

1. Be a good sport whether you win or lose.

2. Know that people online are real people and my words have a real impact.

3. Speak up against discrimination, hate speech, harassment, and abuse.

4. Stop, Listen, and Reassess if I’m told that my words or actions are harmful.

5. Respect others, even if their sincere opinions are different from my own.

The majority of customers who pay four dollars an hour flurry inside around five when morning and mid-afternoon classes finish. Try-outs for the UCI Esports team are held quarterly. On an easel stand is a huge poster board informing about research in gaming, particularly which strategies would best opponents in particular scenarios. 

A boy with explosive curly hair is letting his Bubly water go stale. Too busy, too focused. He keeps repeating into his mic that Gragas the Rabble Rouser, a character who drinks beer to heal wounds and whose abilities include throwing explosive casks and body slamming, is about to enter the scene. It’s a strong character, and it takes multiple rounds to finish Gragas off. 

Two rows down, freshman Skyler and her friend played Valerant from 12:30 to 3:30 p.m.  

“I can tell you he’s throwing,” Sky yells. A male teammate found out that Sky was a girl, so the guy gave up playing. He “threw” the game away in fact, by self-sabotage. 

On the other side of Skyler’s aisle, two Asian boys played League. 

“W, E, get out and do it like every eight seconds,” the tall one joked. 

“I pressed E, W and I died,”  the short one laughed out. 

It’s interesting. Games can be either more tactical-based or mechanic-based. For the game of League of Legends, there is not necessarily any technique you need to master. As long as teamwork works proficiently, the keyboard is pretty simple to use. Counter strike, on the other hand, is a first-person shooting that is hard to excel at as a beginner, because the accuracy and speed to kill someone depends on how quickly your fingers can move. 

Richie Tran, a boy with sad black eyes and hair long enough to slick back behind his ears, is a Counter-Strike veteran. A 5 '10 foot male born from two strict 5 '2 Vietnamese parents, he acquired a $6000 scholarship to UCI, on behalf of making the varsity Valerant team. Valerant is also a first-person shooting game, so Richie’s transition from playing Counter-Strike to the current one felt seamless. 

Richie studied civil engineering and was always an excellent student. He sought academic discipline while living in the ghetto, where substance abuse was a common practice for students during their junior and high school years. Discipline in his academics, improving skill in water polo as well as managing time and nutrition kept him in check. He figured that literature tortured his ADHD, but science and numbers enthralled him. He pursued STEM not because his father believed “money was word,” but because having a passion, an obsession for labs and engineering parts, to invent and to reconfigure a solution to a problem, made him feel valuable. 

Richie’s half-lidded eyes admitted to his exhaustion, but the toiling never stopped. Gaming and studying lent him a sense of purpose. Richie believed that if he emptied himself and dedicated his soul to the process, he would avoid feelings of self-doubt. And self-doubt is a big struggle for Richie. He knew that no matter how fast he rose in Valerant rank or placed first in the nation for water polo, contentment would not come to him. He could not win ever in life, and he did not feel the need to. 

Twelve-year-old Richie could not stop his father from beating him, but he could stop monsters from killing him in a game. His grandmother resembled a haven in a zombie apocalypse from the game Left to Die. She pulled little Richie behind her back and told her son to never hit her grandchild again. His 98-year-old grandmother who lived with him since infancy, enjoyed watching him game. She grinned and shouted in glee when Richie pinned players down, even though she had no idea what was happening, even in a wheelchair. Richie remembers her fondly as a fashionista, wearing fancy skirts and dresses, and how she commented “Wow, how ugly” on other women’s outfits.

The UCI Esports arena where Richie daily trains, holds three official teams: Valorant, Overwatch, and League of Legends. For customers who pay four dollars an hour, Genshin Impact, Roblox, Starcraft II, DOTA 2, Valorant, and League of Legends are games free to play upon arrival. However, Overwatch, Rainbow Six Siege Diablo III, and others require a license.

In a separate space of its own, there’s a green screen background setup that’s called the Broadcast Station but is also the Console & Community Corner for Twitch streaming, virtual reality demos, and meetings. A student staff member in charge of the Broadcast Station recalled resting on the arm of his father’s chair as a toddler. The boy pressed his keys if his dad asked him to and resumed watching his father play games on and on. 

On staff, Brenden Alvarez is the UCI Esports Arena Coordinator; he played for the Overwatch Varsity team back in 2016. The arena had then just opened up on campus, and Overwatch had just been released. It was a hotspot, a social hub that attracted a crowd of students every day. Alvarez tried out for Overwatch, got in, and at first thought that it was too laid back and chill. But his team became highly skilled when he joined, beating UCLA UCR and other collegiates so easily that they started to search for more competitive teams online. 

Matches usually happened in the morning, and when his first in-person tournament came around, Alvarez's dominant hand shook a little. He had a warm-up pre-skirmish, got the okay from his coach, and waited in the lobby. He stepped into the conference room and saw it filled to the brim with teens. Screaming and cheering ensued. He walked onto the elevated platform where he would play against UCR and sat down in front of the computer. Suddenly, he was midway into the first round already. His team was gaining speed, winning, and destroying the enemy. Alvarez did not have the time to smile.

Alvarez’s username is Tildae, well known in the Team Fortress II community on Discord. He’s been playing TF2 for 5 plus years and has considered going professional. But after three years playing for the Overwatch Esports team at UCI, Alvarez graduated and did not want to play in a competitive mode anymore. He had no vigor left–winning was not important to him anymore. If he could explore and try a variety of hobbies, and enjoy multiple games instead of playing just one type, he wouldn’t get bored. Gaming he could not give up, but he also had to manage a life that required working a job and physically working at the gym.

Alvarez and the UCI team won that tournament against UCR. It was fun, as gaming should be. No one does it for the money. He believes that professionals still enjoyed what they did, even spending eight-plus hours daily on the screen. Yes, he once aspired to go pro, wondering if the glory of holding a trophy in front of a whole stadium of people who loved what he loved, would be worth it, but in the end, he realized that he was content with friends and teammates and a winning celebration over KBBQ, and nothing else. 

Sure, Alvarez can’t carry a conversation with a stranger on the street. Unless they played games. How could he connect with another soul otherwise? He doesn’t think of himself as at a disadvantage, not even to the mutterings or shakes of the heads of a million mothers. Gaming flooded him with all the fundamentals and essentials needed to lead a decent life. He could not imagine what he would do without it. It’s always there, on the computer, as a side note to take a break, an opportunity to talk to a friend or a challenge to potentially overcome. 

Richie’s grandmother died on her bed face down while he was in the kitchen eating Lunchables and playing Angry Birds on his iPad. Richie just graduated from middle school. When his mother found her, she touched her mother-in-law's hand, and it moved. But it must have been a reflex because, at a closer inspection, Richie’s mother felt no pulse. Her mother wailed aloud and Richie flew off his chair into his grandma’s bedroom. He went on his knees, too scared to approach the body, and cried so hard that he would never remember crying as hard as he did then. No one comforted him. Aunts and uncles heard the news and rushed to their address, but at the sight of the dead body, they shrunk into themselves. He already knew. Richie felt it behind his eyes. The crushing depression was already taking him under. Richie was falling. 

In the New York Times article, Can You Really Be Addicted to Video Games? Twenty-four-year-old Charlie Bracke fell in love with the straightforwardness that comes with gaming. There are a series of steps you need to take and once you complete them, you reap benefits, stronger superpowers, and rewards. There are unlimited chances. Your time is all you need to pay to stay in that world. You build connections with people in your comfortable living space without direct contact. Except, virtual reality warps real-time in day-to-day life. The gaming world’s time goes by faster. It could turn days into weeks in a matter of a few hours in the world of Genshin Impact, Legend of Zelda, and Animal Crossing. Progress feels so easy. Income is not a constant worry or burden, but money in games is abundant and fun to earn. The closeted gamer is gaining traction. People are joining in the isolation. 

After Charlie lost his grandmother and cut ties with his girlfriend, his gaming passion, quickly crumpled into addiction. Addiction, like hypersexual drive, bad drinking or gambling habits,  impedes health, familial relationships, and basic responsibilities, like a career.  

Charlie Bracke, a single white male in his late twenties, fell into suicidal ideations, which led to suicidal attempts which prompted his panicking mother to find a rehab center. Fascinatingly, she found ReStart, one of the only rehab centers that specialize in video game addiction recovery. Bracke confessed that his life was saved by a group of boys who in their different timelines, experienced the same addiction, the same kind of despair and hopelessness, and through Restart, felt themselves becoming human again. 

Richie befriended a boy who supplied weed. Usually, Richie avoided people who had no work ethic. He steered clear of brawls in the hallways and dissuaded bullies from hurting him. But if he had to get something, like drugs, he acted amiable. His weed fix was satisfied in between school periods: in the school bathroom, at a friend’s place, and in the parking lot. Richie had a high tolerance for alcohol and various types of drug substances. It took a lot to be affected, and he could do homework without trouble no matter the dosage. When he got into the varsity water polo team and attended practice, he rarely swam sober-minded. 

One day in the water, he suddenly could not breathe. His feet stopped treading and he sank. He managed to hoist himself out of the pool. Wet and scared, Richie lied to his furious coach that he was sick. He quit weed then, to qualify for water polo nationals, which he did as one of the top-ranked teams in the U.S. But his grandma was not at home. Not there in her long skirt and huge, thick hoop earrings, asking him when he would come to play at the computer. When he managed to be at the top of his class senior year and received UCI’s acceptance letter, his girlfriend called him. She cried, told him she couldn't handle the relationship, and hung up. Their friendship since elementary ended and Richie must have meant little to her since she announced on social media that she had met a good-looking guy shortly after. 

If someone insulted you (you’re brain-dead!) and you get angry and you can’t think straight, you’re “titled.” You can’t rise in rank and are “hardstuck” so you go making new accounts, wiping out newbies, or “smurfing.” Conflicts do happen in games, of course, specifically on teamwork. There are two cases. First, when in a team some want to be the best of the best, and others play just for fun. A clashing of motivations and personalities takes place then. Second, two self-driven players are in a team and find their callouts are right and the other wrong, though both are correct. Someone needs to step down. It’s a test of maturity and also, an example of good sportsmanship. 

Alvarez believes in sportsmanship. He believes in good character, peacemaking, and be-getting good by doing good. Overwatch players are the most friendly, he said. His people in Overwatch value company over a trophy. He’s getting back into soccer after a period of ditching it. He quit his obligatory ambition to pursue a career in computer science and works in theory crafting and game storytelling.

Freshman year, Richie started to go to frat parties. He liked the girls there. They were nice to him. He didn’t know that in hookup culture, people liked to schedule time in their day to have sex. The eight to eleven girls he had gone to did not love him. In their heads, it’s cut off loose ends and move on. Someone come and find him, he thought. Someone kind and understanding. He might have prayed for it, for a good friend in his sleep. Two people found him and stopped falling forever down. 

Hayden, Mikhail, and three other boys approached Richie at the gym. Richie does not remember exactly how he befriended a group of boys he had met one day. He only remembers lifting until his arms grew limp, saying hi to Mikhail, a regular at the gym. On a spontaneous invite, Mikhail and Richie get into Hayden’s car in a group full of other lost boys, and head to IN-N-OUT, singing Taylor Swift songs the whole way. Next couple of days, Richie and the boys get kicked out of a KBBQ restaurant. They consumed so much meat, the staff begged them to leave. 

Present-day Hayden works as an RA at the college dorms. He is too busy to see friends unless he bumps into them at the gym. But when he thinks of Richie and their car rides, he is quick to reach out. Back in 2021, Hayden and Mikhail urged Richie to join the wrestling and powerlifting team. The two brought Richie into their respective families. The clubs hosted retreats and games, and on a day when the University of California, Irvine versus University of Arizona in a Valerant tournament occurred, the gym brothers hooked their computer to the TV in the gym and watched Richie win. 

When Hayden met Richie, Hayden was also a terrified freshman. He entered school in biology, hoping to become a physical assistant, but before the year 2021 it was the pandemic, and Hayden resorted to working as a restaurant dishwasher. He had no friends. High school friends left him. His isolation rendered him no social skills once college started. Mikhail, a stylish social influencer and a knack for science got into UCI with pre-med. He is from Hawaii. He knew no one in Irvine. Another gym brother was from the East Coast. Another an international student. These boys scared witless, only had each other. 

Richie shared his past, his breakup story, and his grandmother, and in return, he was comforted by the stories that the boys had to share. Mikhail told him to stop sleeping with other girls and to retake that class Richie failed. Hayden encouraged Richie in his gaming passion by watching him play and reacting to his best kills. Hayden instilled in Richie the confidence to socialize with strangers. Hayden developed a well-spoken and people-person personality after COVID-19. He no longer looked at human beings the same way. Humans are a miracle. Hayden wanted some of that thinking to rub off Richie. He thinks it worked.  Richie gleaned random and flirtatious humor after months of spending time with the “gym rats.” Richie liked the feeling of happiness that followed him, emboldening him and strengthening him to return home after a day’s work–to turn on the computer, bless his grandmother in his heart, and play a game or two.