My Favorite Video Game’s Metacritic Score Is Trash. Am I Trash Too?
For game developers, a high Metacritic score means more money, then maybe a sequel, and then even more money. For a gamer like me, a solid score on my favorite game validates my entire existence. So you can understand the state of mind I’m in right now after a new game that I’m totally into got a miserable 73. If my favorite game’s Metacritic score is trash, does that mean I’m trash, too?
Since the point value assigned to the collective vibe of a game’s reviews is inextricably linked to my self-worth, I’m taking both a spiritual and psychological beating here. And the reviews are still coming in, so there’s a chance the score can go even lower. Every time it drops a point, I feel myself get smaller and smaller. Any more and I’m scared I’ll start fading out of existence.
I Know What You’re Thinking
And no, it’s not “just a game.” It’s representative of everything I am and can possibly be. How will I reach my true potential if the video game I’ve built my entire life and personality around is subpar? People might look at me differently when they find out my soul is intertwined with a game that’s only just okay.
I love the game, so maybe it’s actually great and this is all my fault? I thought I was having a 95 to 98 kind of day, but maybe I’m having a 73 kind of day and our deep connection cuts both ways? That’s probably it. I’m responsible for this. I could’ve gotten a foot massage and treated myself to a cupcake—maybe then my favorite game would have a Metacritic score reflective of our true quality … something 90 or above.
I donate to charity. I volunteer at soup kitchens. But now my good deeds will be wiped out because the seventh sequel in my favorite franchise has been called “mediocre” and “more of the same” (probably by a bunch of hacks who are doing this on purpose to hurt me). But that’s okay, because the next game in the series is definitely going to validate me and everything I think and believe in all the ways the previous ones couldn’t.
Eighth time’s a charm, baby!