It’s 2AM. I think. Time went out the window as the wine bottle(s) emptied. The Scorpion tanks rumble through the snow, both jostling for position through the frozen canyon. Marines scatter for cover as the trundling treads mash against each other, terrified by the sounds of our inebriated giggles.
A mighty crack from the cannon sends a Ghost spinning through the air like a burst football. A cheer breaks through the laughter.
I don’t think we got very far in those tanks. I’m not sure we got very far the whole night. Too much time was spent blowing each other up and marvelling at the carnage we could create. That’s my first memory of Halo. Although I can’t actually remember that much of it thanks to the red wine. But it was at my friends house, Halo: CE, split screen and I had fun.
Skip forward a few months and I’m up in my room at home, surrounded by posters of half naked girls and empty bottles of Irn-Bru. I’m blasting through Covenant, clearing the bridges to the next building. The door opens and my Dad walks in. He sits behind me, asking what I’m playing.
Now Dad doesn’t dislike games, he just says his thumbs can’t handle them, but this was one of the few times in my life I remember him being genuinely intrigued in what I was playing. He’s calling out the grunts to my left and he laughs with me as their high pitched whines outcry the plasma explosion. We gasp together as a Hunter barrels towards me, blasting a bright green arc across the screen.
Maybe it’s our shared love of science fiction, maybe it’s the way Bungie have crafted the action, but something made my Dad care about Petty Officer John-117.
Four TV’s and four Xbox’s eat up Russell’s parents power bill. 12 people cram around them on couches, chairs, floor, anywhere their eyes can see. Race modes on Sidewinder and Snipers on Hang ‘Em High are the flavours of choice. You could cut the tension with an energy sword. Every time you hear an analogue stick click you flinch, waiting for a scoped shot to split your dome. This was how we enjoyed Halo:CE and Halo 2. This was my first taste of what was to come.
It’s a dreary September afternoon and I’m gazing through the rain soaked windows of the bus. I glance at the plastic bag to my left and take out a blue tin with a plastic sheath. Inside that tin is a game that would change my perceptions of videogames.
I power up my Xbox and see an unusually high number of friends online, the majority of which seem to be playing Halo 3. I put the disc in and the music washes over me, music that has become all too familiar.
Sandtrap. Territories. My first ever game of Matchmaking and it’s one of the worst you can get. Looking back, I was probably awful. But I remember the amazement that met me – the vehicles, the explosions, the laughter – it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced; far surpassing the LAN games.
Almost two years later and I’m still playing Halo. The group is smaller, tighter even. The skill on show is understandably better. The laughter ever present but the shouting even more so. LAN Parties have been had. I’ve travelled to Belfast and London to meet people I play Halo with. MLG has been supported and discussed.
We have a passion for something that has stopped being a game and has become The Game. The Game that gets put on without asking. The Game that you know they’ll be online to play.
And now I’m back to where I was at the beginning. Although I know more now I still feel that sense of wonderment for Halo: Reach. The new maps, the new characters, the new stories, the new weapons and the new experiences I’m going to have. We’re going to have.
Will it hit these expectations? Who knows. But I do know that no matter what Bungie do, no matter what sort of game they make, I’ll be first in line to play it.
