The thing about multiplayer games is, no matter how good about yourself you may feel when you are able to annihilate your friends on a nightly basis, as soon as you step out that door and into the wider world of competition, you’ll (usually)  find out that you’re about as tough as wet socks.

Take Team Fortress 2, for example; some nights I feel like I’m king of the server, with rockets that can’t miss and piles of dead trailed behind me.  On most nights (ok, the vast majority of nights), I feel completely mediocre… or worse.  It’s all about who the competition is.

It takes facing off against the masses to really judge yourself as a player, and the internet certainly helps in that regard.  Sometimes, though, you want to feel the fire in your opponents eyes, hear their lamentations each in your ears and not out of a speaker, and see them cast defeated before you.

With that in mind, I decided that this year at Otakon was time for me to finally enter a gaming tournament. In all my years as a gamer, I’d never really done much in the way of actual competitive gaming; a few halfhearted clan efforts now again on some PC FPSes over the year were really the extent of it.  Otakon, I figured would offer ample chance to face off against those who would really give me some challenge, and most likely kick my ass.

The selection of tournaments at Otakon this year covered the gamut, but the one title that I thought I’d stand the best chance with was Super Smash Bros. Melee.  My friends and I played the original Smash Bros. almost nightly during college, and I’ve loved the series ever since.  Unfortunately, while I did play Melee quite heavily when it first came out, I hadn’t really spent any time with it in almost a year.  Would my rusty skills be a detriment? I was almost positive the answer to that was “very yes.”

All tournament registrations at Otakon open one hour before the tournament itself, though competitors are advised to line up early to guarantee a spot.  Due to other journalistic concerns, I wasn’t able to get down to the sign up line until about 3:00 on the dot (the tournament started at 4:00).  I walked into the game room just in time to hear the announcer inform everyone that registration was about to open, and “if you aren’t in line already, don’t bother!”  It seemed my journey was over before it even began.

Dejected, I consoled myself with some Puzzle Fighter 2.  As I sat getting whupped by Destructoid’s own Topher Cantler, the announcer came back on and proclaimed that there were actually twenty-two spots left in the tournament, and for interested parties to walk, no run, to the front of the room.

I politely excused myself from Puzzle Fighter and began a furious speed-walk to the front of the game room.  I saw others around me making a beeline for the same place, some even flagrantly ignoring orders and running. Thanks to my lengthy stride, though, I slipped into line just in time to get the second-to-last entry card.

With card in hand, it was time to get down to business.

The tournament was open to 128 players, and set up as a 4-player free-for-all.  Each player would get a stock of three lives, and the last player standing in a game would move on to the next round.  I was #88, and as such was towards the end of the 3rd block of the first round.  This gave me the advantage of getting to watch the playstyles and tactics of some of the other competitors before my own round began, and perhaps to pick up some clever tips.

My initial thought was to play turtle for the first part of the match and let my opponents weaken each other.  I gave up on this though, however, after watching someone in an earlier match employ it (to great success) and get summarily booed and taunted by the audience.  In his defense, if your opponents let you get away with it, they really have no one to blame but themselves.  The range of skill on display gave me some hope, as a lot of the players seemed at or about my level; if I were to get a lucky draw of opponents, my chances might not be so bad.

Finally, after about a half hour of spectating, it was my time to shine.  My group number was called, and I proceeded to the front.  The fourth member of our match had apparently vanished, so we would  be in a 3-player match only.  Upon seeing my two opponents, though, my heart sunk.  The first was an ill-shaven fellow with silver contact lenses, and the second was a trash-talking ten year old: I was doomed.

We took our seats and chose our characters.  I selected my go-to fighter, Samus.  My opponents chose Ness and Lucas.  At least if I was going to go down, it would be to a game series that I loved.  Our random stage was the Eldin Bridge level, which I felt put me at a great disadvantage right off the bat (for my playstyle, anyway).  The round began, and the fighting quickly grew furious, with PK Fires and Homing Missiles blasting off left and right.

I did hold my own for a while, scoring knock-outs against each opponent, but, ultimately, I was the first to fall.  I put my controller down contritely and returned to spectating.  Silver Eyes and Trash Talker slugged it out for a few more minutes, but Silver came out on top, in the end.  And with that, my tournament adventure was over.  I didn’t stick around to see who won, and instead drowned my sorrows in a pulled-pork sandwich at the bar across the street from the convention center.

All in all, things went pretty much as I figured they would, but at least I can say I gave it my best shot.  Perhaps competitive gaming isn’t the place for me, but at least I know I can still go home and kick my friends’ asses at Boom Blox to feel better about myself.