Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Three very different encounters.

At the risk of this becoming a Street Fighter centric blog, I have three matches to talk about, since this was all I played last night.

Opponent #1: Ryu, the ducking jabber.

It is quite common for people to see me chose Blanka, wait for the round to start, then immediately crouch and mash out jabs. This Ryu was no different, but he was also smart enough to ducking fierce me out of jumping attacks, not throw fireball at an unsafe range and retreat when I start getting too close. It was an effective turtle Ryu and I was at a loss of what to try. After dropping the first round I stopped playing my game and resorted to his, sitting just inside the range of Blanka dunking fierce (his best normal, in my opinion) and sneaking hits in between his jabs. I got in one or two, then ran away myself. He tossed full screen fireballs that I ducked under until there was about 10 seconds left, then panicked and attacked, thereby eating an ultra. Round three was incredibly tense, with a whole lot of down back on both parts interrupted by big damage combos. I came out on top (barely) and sent the guy a message thanking him for a good game. It was an unusual Ryu and beating him really felt like a getting past a plateau, which brings me to

Opponent #2: douche bag teenage Ryu who has watched a lot of videos and knows just enough to be dangerous.

I had my mic plugged in because the groans of 'I hate Blanka sustain me through difficult fights. This match started the same, but as much as this guy hated Blanka he knew the match up well enough to stuff me in the first round.

'Seriously, learn to play.'

This was no good. Some snot nosed teenager just threw down, so I did the only thing I could: cheesed him with cross over combos and throws for a second round win. There was even a dizzy involved, which are always satisfying. He got quiet for a while, until he started heaving fireballs in the third round at an unsafe distance.

'Ha ha! I'm just throwing fireballs and there is nothing you can do about it!'

Cue river run. It was a good match in spite of his mouth and I once again came out on top (barely). The last hit was a river run under an EX fireball. I was all worked up because shit talking like that pisses me off, but I had yet to say anything back. Maintaining my composure is what kept me from losing in the first place.

'Man, that's junk, my shoryken didn't come out.'

After all that, after listening to you talk about how I didn't know what I was doing for three rounds, then beating you after you made a clear and obvious mistake, you make excuses? Gah, this is why I am not a teacher, kids are all fucking retarded.

Opponent #3: a tournament level Abel


Every opening I left, every mistake I made, every time I telegraphed a move, every time I got pretictable, every time my focus drifted for just a few frames I was punished. I only gave up one perfect round, but the closet I came to winning one was a blown ultra for chip damage (I flubbed an input and walked forward into jabs). Every round was still fun, though, because I was learning a great deal and he was a nice guy. There was not mocking, shit talking, or yelling and screaming, just general banter and encouragment when something I tried went well.

After beating me five matches in a row he switched to Zangief, a matchup that I know very well and have a definate plan for. I won, but it was still not easy. Why can't live be full of guys like the first and third one? I swear, the internet should have an IQ requirement.

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