Starcraft - Why one of the hottest games of the late nineties is still a worth a few minerals.

I recently stumbled upon a beat-up copy of Blizzard’s old Starcraft while going through some boxes in the back of my closet. In a nostalgic mood and eager to remember a time of less responsibilities, I popped the disk in my computer. Within fifteen minutes, I fell back in love with my old friend. I jumped back and forth from Zerg to Terran to Protoss, greasing my rusty hinges, testing strategies and observing major changes in the gameplay style from a few short years ago. Twelve hours later, I emerged from my 14-year-old state of mind utterly exhausted, my thirst for Starcraft still unquenched. I haven’t been more preoccupied with a game since I swore off video games for good, angry at the outcome of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic.

Considered by more credible experts to be one of the best strategy games of the late 1990’s, Starcraft mixes an original game concept with an intriguing cast of characters and endless possibilities. One can be entertained, for instance, by non-cheating campaign play. This consists mostly of defeating a computer opponent, which most gamers find to be a relatively simple task; the programmed small-time strategies make no use of mass armies and pay little attention to sky-high supply limits. Beating them is easy; with the cheats that all Starcraft players know and love, it becomes fun. The cheats allow map revelation, infinite cash, and even invincibility for your units/buildings. When I reminded one friend of this cheat, he chuckled and commented on the delightful challenge of sending one mining unit to destroy an entire enemy base. After attempting this, however, I would not recommend it.

Moving into multiplayer mode is a whole different ball game. Cruising around battle.net, the familiar hangout for ruthless Blizzard gamers, I noticed no major differences between this place and the immature, self-absorbed competitive community I knew as a child. I did, however, notice a pattern that intrigued me; when I hit the “join” button to join a game being formed, I found that 90% of Starcraft players preferred a map entitled “World’s Fastest Map Ever”. I was intent on understanding why this map was so wonderful; I dialed in and began a game. Accustomed to the “Big Game Hunters”-style, snail’s pace maps, I took my time building SCV’s and slowly gathering my defenses. Confident that I was progressing as quickly as was necessary, I was surprised when the allies assigned to me began throwing accusations my way, labeling me a “newb.” Little ones, I scoffed to myself, compared to an Old-school Starcraft master like myself, YOU are the inexperienced ones. Oh, my naiveté!

Within 10 minutes, the Protoss ally to my left was rushing his enforcements to my side to supplement my pitiful defenses against the flood of Hydralisks that had suddenly appeared at my doorstep. It seemed, as I discovered upon further investigation of the matter, that a clever enthusiast had somehow altered the physics of the original editor template, placing all players’ starting bases far closer to the mineral resources than was originally intended. As a result, a player’s cash flow increases far too rapidly; this pushes all players into a rush to mass-produce units and stockpile endless defenses; the game becomes less about strategy and more about who’s the fastest with their quick-keys and army production. Having played enough now to be a formidable opponent in a map of this style, I must admit that it can be quite enjoyable, even with the original strategy factor left out; it lends something to the Zerg race that makes them almost invincible. However, the moral caliber of the current frequenters of these games leaves much to be desired. I can speak to more than one occasion that proves this point. For example:

I entered the room for a potential game entitled “comp stomp fastest” (“fastest” being the abbreviation for the aforementioned speed-style map). After the game began, a number of allies intended to assist in the destruction of the weakling computer dropped out of the game. Eventually, I was left with one ally directly to my right. Fortunately, however, we were both well-accustomed enough to completely exhaust our supply limits. However, while I led campaign after campaign of decisive victory against the computer’s multiple fronts around the map, my ally simply sat idle, amassing units. “Why don’t you attack?” I pressed, “We could win if you help me out.” After one dismissive reply after another, I guessed at the treachery that lay ahead. But it was too late. My resources drained by repeated attacks on the real enemy, I had no means to even attampt to protect myself. My supposed ally led his hoard into the heart of my base BEFORE declaring to the computer that he was no longer my ally. As his Protoss Carriers swarmed like bees, crushing my stronghold from the inside out, I muttered to myself, “Starcraft isn’t cool anymore.” But it IS. It is because, despite such an experience, I still play. Next time, I’ll be prepared, and I’ll whomp that backsabber’s sorry ass.