2:37am on IRC channel #clan-yank. Players present: Yank and Doodle

* Dr Love has connected to #clan-yank *

Dr Love: hey Yank!

Yank: uh?

Dr Love: fancy a duel?

Yank: no, get some skills

Dr Love: wtf?

Yank: ive never heard of you. if you are aliassing then take off. otherwise ………………. i dont skool n00bs.

Dr Love: nice.

Doodle: get lost lovey, we dont want to speak to your lame ass.

Dr Love: omg! i only wanted a duel. what is it with you two? i am actually a good duelist. fuck the both of you.

Yank: language Dr Love, or you will get kicked.

Dr Love: is that a challenge Yank?

Doodle: no he’s talking about the bot. one more swear word and you are history fucker.

Dr Love: ahaa you just swore!

Yank: hes got ops, he can do what he likes.

Yank: bbout that duel…

Dr Love: what about it mister arrogant?

Yank: im now in the mood to tear you a new asshole. join the server i have just sent you the address for.

* BRIEF PAUSE *

Dr Love: ok i have the address, see you on server

Yank: if you are lucky.

* THIRTEEN MINUTES LATER *

Dr Love: GG, good game! man that was close!

Doodle: close?

Yank: it wasnt fucking close you asshole. i had the map screwed down. you were NEVER gonna win.

Doodle: close?!

Dr Love: man! u are so rude. yeah it was close. we went to extra time and he only won because i got lagged. you shot me when I was lagged! you are sooo goddam lame!

Yank: jesus! i cant believe the n00b thinks he had a chance

Doodle: CLOSE? what was the score?

Dr Love: it was 3-2. my connect went suxorz in extra time and the big man here jumps all over it. raped me when I was obviously lagged. i hope you are happy with your 'victory.' fucking asshole.

* Dr Love has been kicked by Yank-bot *

Doodle: did you lag him?

Yank: of course. he was a bit good.

Doodle: LOL! played man.

Yank: these kids need to learn more respect.

* Dr Love has connected to #clan-yank *

* Dr Love has been kicked by Yank-bot *

Doodle: tit

Yank: i gotta get more practice. I should have owned him so badly

Doodle: whens the next tournament?

Yank: next week. you coming to shout me on?

Doodle: is it near campus?

Yank: 100 miles away man. my pop said he’ll drive me. you can come too?

Doodle: i’m there!

Yank: cool. want a duel?

Doodle: what and get lagged? no thanks man

Yank: LOL

Doodle: LOL

Greg hated losing. Hated it with a passion. Losing, or rather his absolute abhorrence of it was the main reason he was so good at Doom4. Most people view losing as an unpleasant but necessary experience, part and parcel of competition. Not so, young Greg. To him, defeat was something to be avoided at any cost.

As a child he would routinely tip the Monopoly board over or scatter the playing cards as soon as he sensed his cause was lost. With on-line games he didn’t hesitate to employ bots or proxy’s and used both effectively in his avoidance of defeat. He would much rather cheat his way out of losing than take a hammering at the hands of a superior opponent. Unfortunately for him, bots were easy to spot, particularly when a third party was spectating the action.

He had been accused of cheating more then once and knew that continued use of the aim-bot would make him a marked man. So he took to hosting his own duel server, and riddling it with beneficial tweaks, known in the community as a proxy. At any given time, Greg could literally ‘lag’ his opponent, subjecting them to the sudden affects of a terrible internet connection and thus rendering them temporarily helpless. He would then ruthlessly execute his troublesome opponent, contravening all sense of fair play without appearing to break any actual rules.

Unlike the majority of those seduced by the Dark Side, Greg was genuinely skilled. Skilled enough, in fact, to need the proxy cheats only rarely. It meant that his unfair conduct was never more than a rumour, and his reputation as an elite player grew with each whispered clan-room accusation. He was 20 years of age and had been playing online since his 16th birthday when his father had agreed to let him play ‘adult’ computer games.

Since that time several ‘first person shooters’ had received his attention, starting with Quake4 and cycling through all the recognised ‘pro’ games until Doom4 had been released. He had indeed become highly adept, and was a regular competitor at national level competition, including the CPL (Cyberathlete Professional League). He was currently ranked 148 in the world, and 15 in the US. Such placing in the CPL rankings meant equipment sponsorship and a small amount of prize money.

Because his father had deemed it “utter foolishness” to pursue gaming at the cost of his education, Greg had been enrolled at University. His attendance there was simply to appease his father, and his grades were an accurate reflection of this. He spent his time in the computer labs, playing duels on his own server against any worthy opponents.

In this way he had managed to fail his first two years of Computer studies. Only his fathers wealth and constant reassurance to the heads of the computer department saved Greg from the unceremonious ejection he rightly deserved. In any event, the T3 internet connection and state of the art PCs made the University a gamers utopia and Greg had improved his dueling quite dramatically.

Greg certainly didn’t view his two years at university as a waste of time. He had made some good friends, who seemed to worship him for his ability in Doom4. He had met ‘Doodle’ and ‘Beaver’ (as they were now known) during a lengthy Doom session in the labs. The two students had stayed after lectures to play a few casual games. After a short time, attracted by the curses and groans coming from the other corner of the lab, they investigated.

They soon become engrossed in the game they were spectating. Specifically, they were awed by the speed and dexterity that ‘Yank’ displayed against his opponent. Neither of the two lads had played computer games to any depth or level of competence, and the sheer quality of Greg’s gameplay was like a candle to eager moths.

Doodle and Beaver continued to be absolutely no threat at Doom, and Greg soon began to enjoy their company. They could sometimes be annoying and speak out during a critical dueling moment, but Greg would simply activate various cheats if the game started to go against him. His two fans would squeal in excitement whenever they spotted him ‘lagging’ the other player, or removing certain items from the map that would benefit his opponent. Although they rarely played Doom themselves and certainly never appeared online anywhere else, both friends insisted that they be called by their aliases when talking with ‘Yank’.

He enjoyed their enthusiasm, and invited them to use a chat room called #clan-yank in IRC (a chat room facility for online gamers), a room dedicated to himself and his two friends. This arrangement allowed him to converse with them about games in University time, without drawing the unwanted attention of tutors and peers. His fame may have secured a degree of stardom amongst net-heads and gamers, but his relatively modest ranking in the CPL meant that most people had never heard of him. Fame was an ambition which meant more to Yank than anything else in his life. And he knew he could make it, one way or another.


Greg was in the labs staring at his monitor. The screen was telling him nothing new. He was sat motionless, waiting. IRC was open in 5 clan rooms, his mail tracking device was activated, and Explorer hung motionless on ESReality.com. Like an agoraphobic fisherman, he sat like this for about ten minutes, waiting for something to occur.

His patience was rewarded. In IRC, a player called Sniper messaged him privately. Sniper was ranked twelve in the US, and Yank felt on form.

Sniper: hey!

Yank: yo dood!

Sniper: we haven’t dueled in weeks, fancy coming to an open duel server?

Yank: my connection suffers on open servers. ill duel you on mine if you like…

Sniper: er, your server sux.

Yank: no man, the labs are empty. there is no traffic, connection will be fine

Sniper: k, ill give it one last try. send me the address

Yank: on its way. see you on the server

Sniper: roger

• Yank is now known as Yank|duel *

Inside the server, Yank loaded up Doom’s most popular duel map, the ‘Ruined Cathedral’. Little did he know that at the exact same time, thousands of miles away, Daniel Matthews was fighting his own private battle against the Spidey-bot on the same map. The Ruined Cathedral was noted for its balance and fast gameplay.

Only two years ago Doom4 would have been considered too fast for the viewing public, but as knowledge of online games had spread so quickly and widely through mass media, the public adapted quickly to the pace of Doom4. The CPL’s initial reluctance to use the game had soon dissipated as the viewers of CPL-TV showed that, thanks to the highly skilled commentators, they were more than ready.

Yank looked around at the Ruined Cathedral, scanning the cracks and edifices with a trained eye. His Light Cubes felt like warm incubators protecting his hands, as he deftly gauged the sensitivity within the game. It all felt good, and he could tell that his mind was focused for the battle. A second later, Sniper popped into sight before him, spawning near the altar. They walked toward one another and delivered mock salutes. Greg flicked his right hand in a chopping motion and a cursor appeared at the top of his screen. His hands started ‘typing’ in thin air, the cubes translating each finger twitch into a letter.

“Prepare to get your ass kicked man!” he didn’t smile when he saw the reply.
“You are going to die so bad Yanky boy.” Sniper was just as good at pre-match mind games as he was, and any further chat would be redundant. He knew from experience that Sniper would not be affected by his taunts. He typed “ready” and the game acknowledged his new status.

Sniper seemed oblivious to Yank’s state of readiness and started jumping off walls and platforms, practicing expert maneuvers. He was obviously going to make him wait for a while, until he felt ready to start. This annoyed Yank, but he controlled the feeling and joined the duelist in some warm up exercises. After a few minutes, Yank switched his weapon to Rocket Launcher, and sent one straight at Snipers feet. The explosion sent Sniper flying, high into the air, where he met with another of Yanks rockets. This was an arrogant statement which left no room for misinterpretation. The complexity of calculations involved when firing a rocket into a moving air-target was considerable, and the chances of the shot failing to make its mark were high. Sniper knew that he was up against a player on top of his game, and that was the best non-verbal that Yank could have hoped for.

“Haha” responded Sniper, the ambiguity of the laughter hanging in the air. Sniper readied himself up. The game announced to the otherwise empty server that a duel was about to begin. It counted down from ten, and the two players stood motionless, each staring into the others virtual eyes. Yank responded to the start of the duel like a runner off the blocks. His brain become oblivious to all things around him. The game was all that mattered now.

The duel was close, but at no time did Greg feel the need to activate his proxy settings. He won 9-7, and Sniper could not even blame lag. He did though, more out of habit than any real sense of injustice. In victory Yank felt on fire and could not resist craning his neck around the lab in search of a witness to his greatness. The room was empty. It did not matter. As soon as he’d finished mocking Sniper he would watch the demo with Doodle and Beaver . He returned to IRC and typed out a message.

“gg man hard luck. You twelfth in the US at the moment?” About thirty pairs of eyes from around the country followed the ensuing conversation with keen interest, as they passed the news onto other clan friends it spread like wild fire. Yank grinned to himself as the defeated Sniper eventually logged off.