By Clyde Davis
I did one of those things which I had sworn that I would never do. No, not one of those really bad things, as you may be thinking. It was, however, something which compromised or moved my principles. Perhaps I should say, what I thought were my principles. For truthfully, I’m not sorry I did it.
Last year, Santa Claus brought my grandson a Wii. The Wii is used under rather strict rules. I am proud to say that we never, well, hardly ever use it as a babysitter. There may have been an occasion or two.
By and large though, we limit its use to social engagements.In other words, the Wii is to be played with a friend or family member, not as a substitute playmate. Time is also monitored, so the kid doesn’t develop concentric circle cartoon eyes, a sure sign of video game hypnosis.
I have, of course, taken my turn as the partner in various games ranging from Sonic the Hedgehog to Wii Sports, which offers some fun challenges, especially the pool game. Mostly, I have done this to spend time with my grandson. Until recently.
Enter Madden 09 Pro Football. I rented the game for my adult stepson, so he could play it with his son, the above mentioned Jason. Well, sort of. I thought I ought to give it a test run, to see if the eight year old could handle it.
Jason recently — and fortuitously — traded soccer for football, so I ended up coaching in the Upward Bound flag league. Fortuitously because he discovered his inner linebacker, which he attributes to some genetic connection — “Blitzing must be in our genes, huh Dada?”
I haven’t yet figured out how to tell him we have no genetic connection.
He attributes his blossoming interest in defensive strategy to the same pseudo-genetics.