The Internet and Counter Strike, Then and Now

In the early 90’s, I introduced my sixty something year old father to the internet. For his whole life, he worked in a nontechnical field, a factory no less. For 45 years, the closest he ventured near any technology was when he changed the batteries in the TV remote. He preferred the Farmer's Almanac over the Weather Channel. Back then phones were not yet smart, and home computers were still a new appliance. One afternoon I booted up my desktop to educate my techno reluctant dad on the wonders of the internet. As the computer screen shown brightly with the Windows logo, I said,

 

“This is the internet.”

 

“The whole internet is on that computer?” my dad asked.

 

“Well not this computer. It's just connected to the internet.”

 

“So where is the internet then?”

 

“It’s everywhere. We say it’s ubiquitous.”

 

“I think you mean ambiguous.”

In September 2017, my son, Aidan, and I attended the Electronic Sports League’s Counter Strike Global Offensive Competition at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, New York. I used to be a gamer in the Doom and Quake days, until the day I came into the family room to find my wife, Christine, reading Milton's Paradise Lost.

 

“Where’ve you been?” she asked.

 

I spent the last three hours trying to jump on a ledge to get a blue key. That's when I decided to quit gaming. Now, I never played Counter Strike, but I'm familiar with game theory. As we found our seats in the large stadium, Aidan explained,

 

“The team on the right is Faze Clan. Cloud 9 is on the left. They’re the Americans.”

 

“What’s the dominant strategy?”

 

“There are terrorists, and there are counter-terrorists.”

 

"So the goal is to kill everyone on the other team?"

 

"No, the terrorists set a bomb, and the counter-terrorists have to disarm it."

 

"How come they can all see each other?"

 

"They can't. Only we can see that view. It's ubiquitous."

 

"I think you mean ambiguous."

When my desktop finally completed boot up, I thought I would show my father how email keeps you connected to your loved ones. After a brief demonstration sending and receiving email, my dad asked.

 

"If you log off email, can you still get messages?"

 

"Yes, you get email all the time."

 

"Even if you shut off your computer?"

 

"The email server runs on another computer. When you turn your computer on, it goes out and downloads all your email."

 

"Are you sure? That seems very unsafe."

Aidan and I settled in to watch the best players in the world virtually headshot each other all while an announcer gave us a play by play in a northern British accent. I asked,

 

"How do you get better weapons?"

 

"You play an eco round to save money so you can buy better weapons for the next."

 

"Did you ever find a BFG?"

 

"You don't find weapons. You buy them or take them off dead players."

 

"Why is that guy running with a knife?"

 

"You run faster when holding a knife."

 

"Are you sure? That seems very unsafe."

I figured we would move on to something online that interested my father like a website about gardening. My dad sat on the edge of his chair and looked through the bottom of his glasses as I brought up a website featuring information about victory gardens. I declared,

 

"This is an article with tips from a Master Gardener."

"Do they cover raking up?" my dad asked.

"I don't know. I didn't read it."

"I scratch and bag," he said, "Do they discuss how to use a shovel?"

 

"A shovel?"

 

"You're supposed to put the spade end down. The other end won't work," he offered.

 

"Okay, how about this article about eradicating common garden pests."

 

"Get a can of bug spray and use the edge of the can to squash them."

 

"That's what you do?"

 

"Works every time."

 

Unbeknownst to me, the match was heating up. I sat on the edge of my chair and looked through the bottom of my glasses as the crowd roared. 

"What level are these guys?"

"Master Guardians," Aidan explained.

"How do you rank up?" I asked.

"You scorch and burn," Aidan exclaimed.

"Can you hit someone with a shovel that you made on a crafting table?"

"That's Minecraft, Dad."

"Works every time."

My father never got a computer. He preferred to interact with people face to face. Technology is supposed to make our lives better, more efficient, but lately it has reduced our attention spans to a handful of characters or ten minutes of video. It also made it easier for people to stalk someone. The advanced portrait features on many smart phones ensures that even our selfies are no longer real. In the end, technology has guaranteed that we are now more likely to fall down a set of stairs or stroll into a busy street while tweeting yet another clever high school yearbook quote that will inevitably get us fired from our job.

My father expressed it best decades ago when I asked him why he didn’t want a computer. He said,

“Why would I give so many people that much access to me?”

How right he was.

Editor's Note: Originally posted on March 13, 2018.

Online Village

My teenage son, Aidan, has been playing games online for more than half his life. He routinely teams up with the same people from all over the world. One guy lives in Singapore. The most remarkable thing about his online activities is that all of the people he interacts with are older than him, some by decades.

I know what your thinking. How do we protect our son from online predators? When he was young, my wife and I had never filled his head with a fear of strangers. In fact as a six year old, he once struck up a conversation in a public park with a heavily tattooed dude with numerous facial piercings. The guy clearly was cautious as he spoke with him out of fear of being accused of something heinous. When he saw that I took notice, he exclaimed,

“He started talking to me first!”

They say babies must learn to fear snakes. The same is true about strangers. Our approach was as long as he was at an age where adult supervision was necessary, we would worry more about the adult supervisors than strangers. Experts say children are far more likely to be molested by a family member or a neighbor than a total unknown. We've always been concerned about the people with physical access to our children, not random people in public. We were cautious of babysitters. Once a first time sitter, the daughter of a friend, asked us what time we were planning on coming back. She wanted to know because her boyfriend and his friend were swinging by to pick up her car which needed some work. As we drove out the driveway, I suddenly turned around. I was uncomfortable with two men I didn’t know having access to my son in our home. We paid her for her time, then never asked her back.

Now, my teenage son routinely games with a 35 year old married dude from Minnesota and a twenty something former Marine from Michigan. A friend of his created an online team called "House Platypus" which includes some kids from his school as well as a young man, Craig, from Missouri, now a high school senior. Aidan and I used to play Halo and Minecraft together all the time. As he got older and more proficient, playing a first person shooter game with someone as lousy as me just wasn't fun for him. Once I was dismayed that Aidan didn't want to play Player Unknown's Battlegrounds (Pubg) with me. His lack of interest bothered me in a way I wasn't prepared to absorb.

A few days later, Aidan asked me if I would play games with him. That never happened before. Later, I learned that he had mentioned our spat to Craig who expressed how lucky he was to have a father who wanted to play online games with him. Another time, when he was having girl troubles, he got advice from his marine buddy. Shortly after returning from boot camp in Sea Cadets last summer, he unexpectedly broke up with his girlfriend, telling her,

"I feel like I'm too young to be involved with someone."

She didn't take it well, being convinced he was interested in another girl. I can tell you that wasn't the case. Aidan swore off girls until after high school. One of his older online buddies told him "not to grow up too fast" which I'm certain resonated with him. That kind of advice comes only from a mature person who's likely a parent themselves. I once asked Aidan what he talked about with these much older guys.

"Tea," he said.

Apparently, one of his online friends is a connoisseur of brewed tea and has advised my son to get off Snapple and Pure Leaf in favor of home brewing. Aidan purchased a Keurig which is set up next to his computer in his room. Now, he openly discusses reducing his sugar intake as well as the health benefits of green tea. It's doubtful that my son would have listened if I offered such advice. 

Aidan and I are similar in many ways. Yesterday, he showed me a frag video, synchronized to a jazz tune, he's making. One transitional scene went on at length, consuming a lot of time without clearly defining the story. He of course regarded it as pure genius. I explained to him what I would've done. We argued back and fourth for a good hour with me giving up at every turn. Finally, he agreed to try my suggestion, but he planned on running it by one his online man friends. His plan was to show the guy both cut scenes and let him pick the best. We worked on the new scene together. Aidan incorporated many advanced cinematographic features like subtle zooming to follow first perspective motion. When done, the final result was clearly superior. Aidan said,

"What I did made your idea work."

I told him, "The reason why we sometimes don't get along is because we're a lot alike, except I got forty years experience on you."

I'm unconcerned as to how he frames my advice. That he acted on my input is enough.

So how did my wife and I protect our son from online jerks? We helped him develop a sense of self worth and pride in his abilities and accomplishments. As a tech savvy kid, he taught himself how to block people on the sites he frequents. In all the many hours he's spent in a virtual world, he's banned only a few people. The hardest thing to do as a parent is to impart life lessons that will help a child survive in a world without them. Too many parents today want to keep their family together so they foster dependence and perpetuate childhood. As an older parent, I know that time is not on my side so I toil steadfastly on my own obsolescence. The day will come for my boy as it did for me when there is no one ahead of him.

Now, if I can only get him not to drain the hot water tank every time he takes a shower.