Two seasons of mid-table nothingness and about five days of the real world go by. Welcome to the world of Football Manager.
By Darragh Harkin
Last week I read a story online about the singer Plan B and how he almost dropped out of college because he was addicted to Championship Manager. This I thought was fair enough as he was very young and it was probably the first time in his life he was in control of how to spend his time.
This week I put to the test the theory that video-games like this and many others couldn’t affect you as easily while in your late twenties. Surely by now I would be able to function normally and play a little bit of the football simulation without it taking over my life?
I was wrong.
In the last few days alone due to the amount of time spent playing this Football Manager I have:
- Not checked my email or Fantasy Football team
- Passed up pints with my mate who came home from abroad
- Skipped out on a game of golf
- Forgot to download the new Pro Evo and Fifa demo
- Missed the Man Utd Champions League match
- Forgot to have dinner four times
- Told my girlfriend I had a headache so we couldn’t meet up
- Very rarely checked Twitter or Facebook
- Never switched on a radio and had the telly on three times, and
- Switched off the internet capability on my laptop as I figured it could be slowing down the game.
Before I get completely into this let me say that I have been a fan of the Championship Manager games for well over a decade and made the move like many others to Football Manager when Sports Interactive split with Eidos in 2004. I have always had the latest season’s game on my laptop and regularly play it. Hours have been wasted pressing the space bar like an automated monkey but those hours were enjoyable and never consumed my life.
I’m completely alone for two weeks so there is no one around to talk to/distract me. This and the sheer addictiveness of Football Manager was a recipe for disaster.
So why is it different this time? Well, first and foremost is time. At the moment I find myself with more time than Louis Armstrong. I am currently between jobs and therefore have lots of time on my hands. Secondly I’m completely alone for two weeks so there is no one around to talk to/distract me. This combined with the sheer addictiveness of Football Manager was a recipe for disaster.
Many other video games have a similar level of addiction and could have filled a hole in my life this week. World of Warcraft and Call of Duty are two which spring to mind. I never took to Warcraft, which is perhaps a good thing and somehow I feel COD is a different level of addiction. Certainly gaming online with some of your mates for a few hours is less hermit-like than spending hours managing football players you never knew existed. Had I perhaps turned on my PS3 instead of my laptop I would have gotten other things done this week. But I didn’t and so into the stats driving world of Football Manager 2011 I dove.
Had I ticked the box for former international or Premier League player I would have had the respect of the fans and players from the very start. Instead, being a former Sunday League player named Darragh Harkin meant respect had to be earned
People who have played these sports simulation games will know that anyone can take over a big club like Man Utd and do well, but the real challenge is to start unemployed or with a lower level team. You start low and work your way to the top where money and possibly fine women await you. Getting a lower level club to the Champions League is the stuff dreams are made out of but that’s the dream I had for one team in the English Football League.
This time I chose Barnet, media favourites for the drop in League 2. I made it more challenging than normal by giving my manager the football experience of a Sunday League player. This option is important as had I ticked the box for former international or Premier League player I would have had the respect of the fans and players from the very start. Instead being a former Sunday League player named Darragh Harkin meant respect had to be earned and that one bad decision could see me losing the dressing room.
Sadly this indeed happened in my first season with Barnet as I foolishly fined a player a week’s wages for a sending off in a crucial derby match. With one click of the mouse I gave myself hours of torture as the dressing room rallied against me and the press jumped on the bandwagon. Due to this and some other poor judgements my team lost six on the bounce and all aspirations of promotion went out the window. Instead I had to be content with mid-table obscurity and build for the season ahead.
Mid-table nothingness
My plan now was to gut the whole team and back room staff bringing in fresh ideas, fresh people and fresh training methods to ensure Barnet would climb up a league. Of course getting rid of players because they are not of the quality you desire is a good idea but only when you can guarantee replacements that will be better. Instead what happened was I offloaded my misfits and took in over twenty new players, none of whom settled in quickly or performed to a decent standard. Two seasons of mid-table nothingness and about five days of the real world had passed me by.
I was now getting pissed off and annoyed with failure. Surely I should have given up or started a new game. So why didn’t I? Because much like Plan B I was hooked, the challenge of actually getting something out of these losers at Barnet proved too big a reward. Not having to say out loud how many hours I was wasting playing the game actually helped as it’s easier to be a hermit if no one knows that you are. Had someone actually asked me I think humiliation, embarrassment and still trying to be a little bit cool would have meant an end for Barnet. But that was not the case so on we ventured.
I’m into the third season now and well on course for promotion to League 1, so much so I have found time to stop and write this article. In writing this I realize how much of a waste my week has been and yet I will continue to play the game until Barnet are in the Premier League. I know it’s sad and I know it’s just a game but I take solace in the fact that I am not alone. A report came out in 2008 to say that video-games, and Football Manager in particular, are the main cause of divorce in London. Now these men have a problem. I just got a bit hooked for a week. Right?
I’m off on holiday on Sunday so I wonder will the boys from Barnet make the top tier in time for my break. To do so will require lots of dedication, time and persistence. This time though I think a break to meet friends and perhaps a check of what’s going on in the world will help me feel less obsessed by the game. Then again all that could just get in the way of getting to the Premier League! Such decisions are not meant for mortal men.
So the next time your wife, girlfriend, mates or parents leave you alone in the house by yourself and you decide to play an addictive video game, remember this article.
Remember it and realise … that getting a shite football team to the Premier League is an achievement. Go forth and Football Manage…
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