The Nooby Trap Chronicles: Chapter 1 "The Beginning & a Really Looong Chord"

Fall 2002: "Wanted: Xbox Live Beta Testers!"

Simple enough. Microsoft was prepping to launch it's online game service & looking for people to be "beta testers". Yeah, PC guys have been chopping off each other's heads in ONLINE games for years, but I wasn't one of those (damn Mac & lack of games). To my surprise, Microsoft asked I pay $50, plus shipping, to work out the kinks for them - are you kidding me?? What kind of screw job is this? Do I look like an idiot?

A few weeks later my Xbox Live Kit showed up. Nifty! The kit consisted of a disc, a flimsy headset, & a piece of paper. Wow, now I know why it cost me fifty bucks. It's a disc, headset, & a piece of paper! One of the first lines on that paper read:

"Make sure your internet cable is firmly secured to the internet port on the Xbox console."

Shit. My Xbox = in the living room. My Cable Modem = spare bedroom on other side of the house. No wireless router (never needed one up to this point). I was already in $50 and wasn't in the mood for dropping another $200+ just to get blasted with a shotgun online at point blank range by some kid in Knoxville, TN. But...

The company I worked for at the time was bought by a bigger company and was being dismantled (layoffs, shutting the office down, etc...). As our IT Dept was scrapping old PC's, they set out a big box of cables for the trash (well, OK, it looked like it was headed for the trash...). Anyway, on top was a 60ft Ethernet cable they pulled out of some wall or something. As I was stuffing it under my shirt & zipping my coat to the very top, I wondered "what the hell am I going to do with this thing anyway?"

I scared the hell out my cat. I'm dragging this tangled-up chord from the spare bedroom (aka "The Boodaloo"), down the hall, across the front door, through the living room, under the entertainment center to the back of the old Xbox. Classy...

I'm pumped. Insert disc. Fire up the box. Enter a credit card number? Ok. Street Address. Agree to Terms. Blah blah blah. Pick a 'gamer tag'? Sillynelson - 20 minutes later - BAM, let's get it on.

The 'beta' came with 2 games. One, an excellent looking motorcycle racing game (MotoGP), and some other game with little cartoon dudes whacking each other with hammers or something. Motorcycles it is...

Loading screens, pick a bike, enter a race. I was pretty excited. The idea of me and 11 other people from all over the country racing neck&neck through hairpin curves, long straights, grinding it out for 4 laps, sprinting to the finish line, laughing about it all at the end of the race. Good times. Enter lobby...

"F*ck you!"
-whoa
"Hey, sillynelson. Why are you so silly?" (something I've heard approx. 30,000 times by now)
-huh?
"Hey, sillynelson. Why are you such a f*cking fag?"
-huh?
"Do, do, do, do-do-do, Can't Touch This!"
-oh boy
"Is my mic working?"
-um
"Somebody start the f'n race already"
-good idea
"Whoever said that can suck my D."
-oh boy
"Ready up faggots."
-really?

Wow, it's like I just entered the world's worst party line. I admit I laughed (and still laugh) at some the stupid crap being thrown around waiting for this race to start, but at this point, I really really wanted to ACTUALLY race!! It was a racing game after all.

"LOADING"
-finally

Somebody launched the damn game. Now we're talking. The race loads.

3.2.1.GO!!

I hit gas and go figure, we're actually racing! 2 seconds later some a-hole makes me wreck my bike. Good times, no biggie. Back up & off again. 2 seconds later - wham: back in the dirt. Same guy? Nope, some other jackass. Back & off again. At this point, I'm in dead last. Ah whatever. I'm cooking now...

"What the hell?" SLAM. Some jackass is a driving through the course BACKWARDS hitting people head-on. What the hell is point of that?? Another guy doing the same. No one's completed a single lap. Up & on...

A few races later, I'm actually doing pretty good (aka dodging the guys going backwards). A guy on my tail.

"Silly Nelson, I'm coming for you."
-creepy
"And yes, I mean sexually..."
-CRASH

Crash x 100. One might wonder how I can recall a race from 6 years ago with such clarity? Because EVERY SINGLE TIME I RACED it was just like that. Every single time. At least I paid $50 to be called 'gay'.

Best part: wife comes home...

"What the hell is this cord???"
-crash