As of tomorrow, I will have been a member of the online game Nationstates for six years and six months.
And you thought TV Tropes was a timesink.
One thing, and one thing only, has kept me on that site for this long; the realisation that there are many people around the world who daydream and fantasise about being a great sportsman, or manager, or commentator, but have not the ability to do so.
What does this have to do with the game though, I hear you ask?
Simple really - those who can, do; those who can't, roleplay.
Over the last seventy-eight months, I've created world-class goalkeepers, and midfielders with ADHD; made a reporter feared around the world...and killed twelve people in a coach crash.
And I still haven't won the damned World Cup. Not that I'm bitter...
As the old adage goes, though, there's always next time, and "next time" started yesterday, with the beginning of the fifty-third edition of Nationstates' most popular "game within a game". And here I sit, ten to one in the morning, eagerly anticipating made-up results for a made-up nation in the way most eagerly watch the Soccer Saturday vidiprinter for news of how Arsenal, or Aberdeen, or Accrington Stanley are doing.
I should be ashamed of this, but I'm not; I wear my colours with pride, and those colours are Krytenian sky blue.
