I’ve always been a fan of video games. As a child, I used to sit next to my father, staring at those pixels which, by changing colour as if by some sort of black magic, gave the impression of movement. You could practically count those pixels, but the graphics didn’t matter: it was magic.
When you’re a kid, you always find time to sit in front of the screen and skilfully move a handful of pixels around, but the older you get, the less time you have. At first, you squeeze in a bit of time between one written assignment and the next (at the expense of the assignment itself), then maths and Italian homework give way to exams, your dissertation, work and social life – far away from that chair and that screen.
I find myself right there, in that spot, torn between working hours and the commitments that, inevitably, crop up. But I love video games. It’s not just a phase; it won’t go away. So what can I do to enjoy playing video games, even with less time on my hands?
Of all the games out there, one in particular has stood the test of time. Whether it’s down to its rule-breaking punk aesthetic or humanity’s inevitable attraction to violence, this video game has been going strong for years and, in fact, is attracting more and more people. I’m talking about Tekken, one of the greats of the fighting game genre.
I want to talk about it because, believe it or not, behind all those kicks and punches I found much more than just a rush of adrenaline.
It all began when I was a little boy – I can’t remember how old I was. My uncle would always give me folders crammed full of DEMO discs for the PlayStation 1, each one numbered and a different colour. It was incredible. Every CD contained a handful of new games in their DEMO versions. They were, of course, incomplete versions of the games, but the little boy I was back then didn’t care. All I wanted were new pixels moving across my screen, beamed out of the cathode ray tube. I can still remember the sensation of static electricity which, when I brought my arm close to the screen, made the fine hairs on my skin stand on end. I was a happy little tot.
One of these CDs contained a DEMO of Tekken 2. I launched it. Wow, I pressed a few buttons and this cybernetic ninja with a sword called Yoshimitsu started moving and doing things, teleporting whilst unleashing implausible slashes against a bloke with his blond hair styled in a quiff. Incredible. It really was magic.
At the time, I wasn’t in the least bit interested in understanding the logic behind how my inputs made the character move; I just wanted to press buttons and see what happened. I spent hours in front of that DEMO.
In my grandparents’ town, I’ve always had a friend, Gianluca, who, being a bit older, always had the latest video games. I can’t put into words just how happy I was back then whenever Gianluca rang to invite me round. It was there that I played the full game. The full Tekken, with all the characters. It was a whole new, vast world, all contained on a disc. I also played the new Tekken games as they came out, and each instalment in the series was ever more crazy and utterly brilliant.
Over the years, I started visiting my grandmother less and less. I’m not an asshole – I still go to see her, mind you. It’s just that, on top of the squabbles, something else has come along: life.
Years have gone by and I, too, have started to be able to afford new consoles and platforms to play on, but Tekken remained nothing more than a memory – until quite recently. Why was that? Well, you needed two people to play, and throughout my teenage years I didn’t have any friends who shared my passion for gaming with the same enthusiasm as I did.
Six years ago now, just after the COVID pandemic, I moved out on my own. I saved up some money each month and bought myself a PlayStation 5. It was then that Tekken came knocking on my door again. Now I didn’t just have one friend to play with: I had the whole world, online.
This time, though, simply pressing buttons and seeing things wasn’t enough to satisfy me. I’m older now. It’s time to really learn how to play this bloody game. The famous YouTuber and gaming commentator Sabaku No Maiku was livestreaming entire coaching sessions whilst learning from Baron, a professional Tekken player, how to use Dragunov, one of the characters available in the roster. That’s exactly how I chose my MAIN: the character you become proficient with, whose movements, moves and combos you’ll learn. I wasn’t just pressing buttons at random anymore. Now it all made sense. And the best bit? An hour of gameplay is more than enough to have fun. It’s easy, it’s quick – switch it on and within two minutes you’re throwing punches.
I played Tekken for a few months and really enjoyed it, rediscovering that joy I’d thought was lost forever. I started practising with someone who’d been playing since Tekken 7, and they helped me get to grips with the combat mechanics, making me realise that I’d actually only just begun to explore the rabbit hole.
Then, just as it had come back into my life, Tekken slipped out of it again. The reason was the same as always: I was alone. Although I could play online with a virtually unlimited number of people, after a short while they began to be nothing more than a username beneath the health bar. I missed the human touch. So I put it aside.
For over a year now, my circle of friends has grown, and I’ve been lucky enough to meet some fantastic people. Proper nerds, just like me. Together, we’ve started organising all sorts of activities: role-playing games, board games, film nights – you name it.
Well… it was at one of these film club evenings that my friend Marco said something which, looking back, I would describe as dangerous.
“Zubi, I’ve started playing Tekken – come on, you should play too.”
At first I refused, knowing full well that this game requires a huge amount of constant practice to get results. You have to practise on Tekken, you have to study, you have to work out which punch is the fastest so you can counter that bloody move that seems unstoppable. Then he asked me again, and again, and again. It was time to pick up the controller once more.
I’ve started playing again, and this time I’m not on my own. I’m having so much fucking fun.
At a birthday party, I made the brilliant mistake of bringing my PlayStation 5. The result? Fifteen people jostling for the controller in front of a projector, fighting it out with these avatars dressed in rather questionable outfits. All together. After that evening, I reckon seven people went out and bought a copy of Tekken 8. Now, every weekend, we get together, sitting side by side, playing together, giving each other tips, commenting on the action and having a laugh at each other’s expense.
That’s precisely why I say that Tekken can be so much more than just kicks and punches. It can be a tool for the community, for healthy competition amongst friends (though sometimes not quite so healthy), and for spending an evening away from that grey, monotonous routine.
All of this thanks to a bunch of pixels.
You might say, “There are loads of ways to get together and spend an evening with friends.” Yes, you’re right. But let me tell you… this is a bloody good way to do it.