Pardon my hesitance. Hell, Battlefield 1943 is a lovely little downloadable title, and I tossed a bunch of time into it, running like an idiot across huge maps, driving jeeps into tanks and somehow being surprised at the results, and attempting to take down tanks armed with nothing more than a pistol. All great fun, I assure you, but in a world that now knows the glory of Modern Warfare 2, I can’t help but think that the online community for this is somewhat lacking. But at 600 MS points ($7.50), it might be worth a shot – just don’t expect to play this without some buddies.
Actually, this sale takes me back to the day of my first Battlefield 1943 match, and the hilarity that immediately ensued. Hit the jump to cue the Wayne’s-World-style flashback sequence – one that might just sway your decision.
It was a hot summer day here in New Mexico, which made the jungle setting of Battlefield 1943 seem that much more sweltering. Still, I was excited to visit these places that I had been so long ago; I was a longtime player of Battlefield 1942, using it as a perfect LAN-party game during high school.
But there was a problem – server issues meant that getting into a game was obsenely difficult. While the issues were cleared up fairly quickly, those early days were rough, to say the least.
So when I did finally get into a match, I was crushed to see that the opposing team was already approaching victory, and the match would soon end. “Son of a bitch,” I might have said aloud. But I decided to make my time in that match count, so I sprinted toward a tank, hoping that I’d be the first one to reach it.
I was. So began my terror spree.
I fired the cannon off into the distance, hitting nothing. I drove through thick trees, destroying beautiful foliage for no reason at all. But all the while, I saw no enemies; They were all on the other side of the map. My hopes of contributing anything meaningful to my first match were disappearing much like our team’s tickets.
Then, a screaming came across the sky. An enemy plane had appeared above me, and the pilot surely had aspirations of destruction. Unfortunately, those in tanks have little defense against a skilled pilot on a bombing run. But I was determined to make my mark upon the match. In what is normally a futile effort, I tilted my cannon upward and fired a single shot.
Miraculously, it found its mark. I registered my first kill, and the enemy’s plane came hurtling toward the earth in a twisted ball of flame.
More accurately, it came hurtling toward me.
Helpless to do anything, I stepped on the gas, inching forward just enough to see the plane twist and tumble directly over me. By some divine newbie providence, I had survived to fight another day…well, at least when the game let me into another match.
So, if a moment like this sounds like something that you want to experience for yourself, be sure to grab Battlefield 1943 before the ball drops. Now that I’ve relived that moment above, you might even be able to prod me into another match or two.