Playing Dad

The future of the world is surely secure if people like Greg Kasavin are procreating. Quickly, tell the authorities to call greg@gamespot.com.

Whatever the case, if this upcoming version of Hyper Fighting isn't exactly what it says it is, without the detriment of audio caveats and obnoxious load times, I'm officially done with Street Fighter II rereleases. I'll just bust out my SNES, play me some SF II Turbo, and cry myself to sleep at night.

I mean, hey, if it works for my daughter, it ought to work for me. Not busting out the SNES and Street Fighter part, the crying myself to sleep part, I mean. Esme's just 4 months old, so the SNES is a little before her time, whereas the crying, well...she's got it down pat already. Being a new father while also being the type of person who's concerned about the quality of Street Fighter II translations has been somewhat of a challenge to reconcile.

In fact, I haven't even really tried. I feel like Harman Smith minus four-or-so personalities these days. You know what I'm saying? No? The thing is, fatherhood seems like the most grown-up thing in the world, while playing video games, even the really good ones, is still kids' stuff as far as most dads are concerned. So where does that leave me? Better yet, where does that leave my daughter?

Much like how I grew up around games, I suspect I'm among a growing number of game-playing parents. That is to say, we're not letting this whole parenting thing become an excuse to give up on games. We've got our priorities straight, man.

Let me back up a little before you forward my contact information over to Child Protective Services. I don't really presume to know anything meaningful about being a parent since I'm new at it, but in case it doesn't go without saying, being a good parent is important to me. And what I do know, having grown up with parents of my own not so very long ago, is that it seems important to just be yourself and help the kids find their way. My mom pressured me into becoming a doctor. See how that turned out? So, as for me, games are a big part of who I am. Despite how much media attention is paid to the idea that games can corrupt the minds of children, I'm not really concerned that my daughter's going to grow up around all this stuff. I mean, if I'm messed up in the head, games are probably the last reason why.

For that matter, I'm pretty sure my wife isn't sweating all the games, either. She, like most women, is highly indifferent toward games. But she also doesn't seem to find them fundamentally threatening or harmful, and she seems to take my word for it when I say that some games almost assuredly could be a good learning experience for a growing child. Besides, for the time being, Esme seems to like looking at the colorful graphics and listening to the different sound effects. Between all the samurai movies I'm watching and the Dead or Alive 4 I'm playing, I'm betting she'll have a knack for Japanese, too (and martial arts).

I promise not to push games on my daughter as she gets older, but if she turns out to have any natural interest in them whatsoever, she's going to find that her daddy's all too eager to hook her up with a bunch of stuff that's worth playing. I know for a fact that I learned a lot from games as a kid, and I appreciated being able to play games that were probably intended for people much older than I was. At the age of 9, I was dealing with tough moral dilemmas (and balrons) in Ultima IV, facing the consequences of my actions depending on the decisions I made. Meanwhile, back in third grade, we were still having sing-alongs. I felt way more mature playing games than going to school, which seems completely bizarre, but that's the way it was. Anyway, in turn, I could see myself sticking Esme with the Fire Emblem games in the hopes that she would take something away from them along the lines of what I got out of the Ultima series. Besides, they're fun and make you think.

Wait, no, I said I wasn't going to impose games on her. If she happens to like them, then she'll be in luck. But if she doesn't, that's OK. Kids aren't really supposed to like the stuff their parents are into anyway, right?

I know I'll learn a lot from her, and I already am. One other thing I've promised I'll do my best to do is to try and understand my daughter's hobbies as she grows up. I don't want to be one of those freaks who thinks the next equivalent to video games/rap/heavy metal/Dungeons & Dragons is the cause of all the world's problems just because my daughter's into it and I'm too old to get it. If my daughter really likes something, and I don't naturally understand why, I'll do my best to learn about whatever it is and to get why it can be such a big deal to someone younger than me. Maybe it's unavoidable that parents become more and more uncool the older their kids get, but the least I can do is try to keep up with my daughter's interests.

I joke that she's going to hate games, but secretly I think there's a pretty good chance she'll be into them a few years from now. I'll make sure she's got good advice and options about what to play, and since I don't think games supplant books or movies or music or anything, I'll do what I can to see to it that she keeps things balanced. Yeah, I've got everything all figured out.

Right now, the toughest thing about being a parent for me is just talking about it, admitting that it's happened to me and is now a part of who I am, even with respect to games. When you've got a kid on the way, everyone around you loves telling you all about how your life is going to completely change and how you'll gain a whole new perspective on everything. And, as I was getting that from people, I just sort of shrugged it off--who are they to presume to know how something so personal would affect me? But they were half right at least. As a parent, my perspective necessarily must account for that child's upbringing, and in this particular case, I've even brought her into my work. Does that mean having a kid changed the way I think about games, though? To paraphrase a cracked version of one of my childhood favorites, Karateka: Not on your life.

Next Up: Freeplay by Andrew Park