Halo Infinite recently had a limited-time event with Neon-themed cosmetics called Cyber Showdown. I’m not even that big into Halo, but I decided to grind the game until I had all of the cosmetics from this event. Honestly I think the mohawk – which is the last item unlocked – just looks silly on a Spartan, but I still played for several hours to unlock it. I guess my reasoning was “just in case” I ever wanted to wear it.
The Attrition game mode is pretty fun, but I played it a lot more than I would have were it not for the stupid cosmetic that I didn’t even intend to use.
So that got me thinking: was I playing the game because of the limited time to get that cosmetic, or was I playing the game because I actually wanted to? I did have fun while playing, but the reason I booted up the game was to work towards that mohawk.
I recall a similar thing with Splatoon 2. I wouldn’t play the game for weeks but then open it when it was time for a Splatfest. That’s a bit different, because while there is rewards for participating in Splatfests, those rewards are not exclusive to the limited-time events. In fact, you literally don’t even get to keep the shirt that represents your Splatfest team. I turned the game on because I felt like I was contributing my Splatfest team, not because of a cosmetic.
I don’t want limited-time events to be the reason that I play a given game. But at the same time, limited-time events get me to play games that I do enjoy. I know that developers have these limited-time events to increase engagement; get people to play the game (and usually spend money on it).
I’m thinking about why and how I choose what game(s) to play in my free time (which is always decreasing). For a long time, I spent nearly all of my game time in Smash Ultimate. I was motivated to get better at it for personal reasons. I will admit that I did tune in to the limited-time Spirit Events to keep my save file at 100% completion (and I do find the spirit battles fun), but that wasn’t the main reason that I played. I booted up the game because I was impassioned. I went into training mode and practiced. I watched video guides. I kept playing day after day.
I feel like I’ve lost that. I still play Smash occasionally (at least once a week lately), and it is fun, but I feel like I do it moreso to pass the time. I still want to play Smash competitively. I still want to Git Gud, I still want to participate in my local competitive scene. But the passion just isn’t there. It hasn’t been since October. I’ve been to only two events since then, and both were in San Antonio when I already had a non-Smash reason to be down there.
I haven’t talked about this at all publicly, but there was a time when I had motivation outside of the game that kept me playing Smash with the intent to get better. I had someone in my life that motivated me. I don’t have that person in my life anymore. I haven’t for a long time – even before October, but I feel like that person kept me motivated.
I don’t know yet if it’s a good idea to elaborate on that publicly, both for the sake of my sanity and the other person’s privacy.
Either way, I don’t know how to get that motivation back. I still love the game and competing, but playing the game seriously on my own time is a tall ask for me right now. I want to change that but it’s not that simple. I plan on going to a local tournament this week to try to just jump back in.
If nothing else, I recognize that the sense of community is very important to me. It’s weird, though, because I feel like my participation in the community is tied to competing, when I know for a fact that competing isn’t necessary to be a part. I guess there’s just not any other role for me to have. Not that I need a role – I’m definitely welcome to just be present at tournaments, but that’s not something I would do.
I just need to… get back into it. I can’t figure out my relationship with competitive Smash without giving it another shot. Whatever happens, I doubt I’ll ever truly stop playing Smash or being part of the greater community. The game is a part of my life and identity.