I always get anxious, when I take some time off from Overwatch. I also felt kinda' mad guilty last week for just not playin' it with my brother. We play every weekend - and I gave him plenty of warning. I told him the previous week that I'd be playing God of War, but it still felt... selfish?
I'm not saying my time with God of War was ill-spent (or that I'm done playing God of War), just that my feelings towards Overwatch were mixed, as our Weekly Game Time approached. I hadn't played all week, before last weekend, and was patiently waiting for God of War to drop. Then came the news that they're nerfing Tracer. Most Overwatch heroes have seen some balance changes, but Tracer hasn't really been touched since launch - and news that the only hero I can do real work with was getting kneecapped hit me right here - in the emotions.
I was beside myself with grief and that, combined with some other stuff, made me abandon my EB Games preorder of a physical copy of God of War, preorder the digital version off the PSN store, and wait up 'till 11:00 to start playing it on the 19th.
It's been God of War ever since, and heading into last night, the thought of Overwatch was painted in all kinds of blue. My radiant, shining beacon of awesomeness, Tracer, has a great, evil nerf bat hanging over her, I felt bad about not playing with my brother week before, and going a single week without getting some practice in always results in at least a solid night of horrible matches - this had been two.
I was anxious, and a little down on the whole idea, but I also missed it. I was looking forward to it - but I'm not gonna' be stupid about this. Chris went D.Va (as he does), and I instalocked Zen. I try to lean support when I'm feeling rusty - they're very training-wheelsy - and going Zen is a good way to fish for a second support. (Zen can almost-never solo heal a game, a teammate will always know this and usually lock in a primary healer like Moira or Mercy - we got a Brigitte.)
It went poorly.
I rolled out of the spawn on Ilios with nothing but the best intentions. I was throwing heal balls and discording my enemies and dead. So I tried again. And, then, I tried again. And I died. I pressed the touchpad on the dualshock and looked at my stats.
I had dealt 109 damage. That's not enough to kill a D.Va, once you pop her out of her mech.
We lost that game. We lost that game pretty hard. I was not very Zen at all. Going Moira didn't help.
I don't even remember what the next map was - but I am quite certain I took off the training wheels and locked Tracer. I don't understand, precisely, what happened next, but I know what it felt like. It felt like I was the Tasmanian Devil. Not the actual animal, but the Warner Bros. cartoon. I was a great, foaming-at-the-mouth beast, snarling and thrashing and bouncing you off the walls on my way to your buddy, all claws and teeth. I felt like Mugen in the opening of Samurai Champloo.
I ended up going like 20 and 2 that game, or something - very nice! But I was amazed at how like-riding-a-bike it was, when I got back on Tracer. I could not hit the broad side of a barn on Zen or Moira - both of whom are far more forgiving than Tracer's short-range hitscan - and once I slipped back in to Tracer's Uggs, it felt like comin' home.
Chris and I wrecked faces for an hour or so, and I found myself on an Anubis defense where I felt like Symmetra would be a strong pick. The reds had a Winston, though, and we got shoved off the first point before I could even drop my ult. We had a Moira, so I decided to go back to Zenyatta. At the very least, I could discord the Winston and ruin his day.
My only PotG last night was that round on Zen, where I got four kills in that sexy Cultist skin.
Man, it was nice to go back. And I'm looking forward to going back again.