…and here I was thinking how much I missed playing poor digital representations of my least favourite sport. Phew! Thanks, Roger Clemens MVP Baseball. I came perilously close to enjoying life!
This is another baseball game. Another baseball game. I can’t even begin to describe how uninterested I am in this game. Remember that scene in that Indiana Jones movie where he (Indiana Jones, probably) swaps a bag of sand (or whatever) for some relic? If I was him and I found out that relic was Roger Clemens MVP Baseball, I would just knock it to the ground and then when I saw that giant boulder rolling toward me I would put my head in front of it. My last thought as my skull and brain were crushed into pulpy bits? “Well, at least I don’t have to play another baseball game.”
Guys, I wish I could review this game for you. I wish I could play it and talk about its important points, its flaws, its relevancy, its Roger Clemensness. But I can’t. In the same way a dog likely can’t understand what it means to be audited (the tax kind, not the Scientology kind; I have it on good authority dogs find the latter insulting to their intelligence), I can’t understand why anyone would willingly play a video game based on, around, or near baseball.
I can’t even play this game for more than a few seconds before all my brain functions start to close down even further (they’re pretty closed down) and I start weeping 15% more blood than usual. My will to live trickles out of my body, and I contemplate utter oblivion as my ability to feel disappears.
When does the numb start to get comfortable?