When I was a child, I was allergic to swearing. Goodness gracious, yes. Here’s an anecdote, followed by a transition into a review:
The trouble started when, drunk on youth and innocence, I went to a friends house, only to discover that treachery resided therin. It lay in his eldest brother, a pubescent lad with just the hint of a ‘stache’ upon his pimple-scarred face. We were playing a game of EA Sports Boxing when the villain appeared. He held out his hand for the controller, and, as I remember it, grinned an evil grin for the devilry he was about to commit. He loaded up a character of his own creation. “Don’t tell mom,” he said, and I had but to look at the name to determine the reason: “Shitkicker.” Gadzooks! My heart a-pounding, I carried on living, but only just. Later, I would ponder what awful thing had happened to the older boy to cause such vile behaviour in him. I came to the conclusion that he was a terrible person by nature; he was the “Shitkicker.”
It is only now that I realize just how wrong I was. He not a hateful boy, but only one who had seen the true potential for comedy provided by the boxing genre. Following in his mighty footsteps, I named by dutiful TKO boxer-man “DesiresIntercourse.” He wears it well. Not only does he desire intercourse, most probably of the sexual kind, but he punches other men in the face to get it. He punches them in the face until they fall down, he does. Or he should.
But instead, he chokes. It’s probably my fault; I don’t play this game’s strategy well. It tries to force me to box like an actual boxer, to bide my time, keep my defenses high, and strike when the time is right. I’m far more comfortable with just dropping the gloves and going all hockey fight on the other guy’s ass. Despite my failure at all attempts at competence, it is this very aspect of the game that I find intriguing. It helps give it some depth missing from a lot of boxing simulators and makes it less about how many punches you throw, but when you throw them. Which is, I guess, what boxing is all about — some kind of gentleman’s game of strategy.
But for purists like myself, who really just want to make that other dude fall down, it’s hard to think about not hitting him.
In the end, my friend’s brother got caught, his mom banned him from the computer for life, and now he’s a porn-actor. I mean a porn-activist.
Kids, don’t swear. You don’t know who could be listening.