Winning’s nice. Makes you feel all warm, doesn’t it? A few days ago, I won a Gleam comp. That’s not something that happens every day. To be honest, for me, it’s not even something that happens every year. But happen it did, and that's what's important.
It also happened to be my biggest prize of the year too - a PS4.
Getting a winning notification like that is the kind of thing that makes you jump out of your seat and squeal, as indeed I would have, had the great dollop of offspring occupying my lap at that moment not cut off the blood-flow to my legs. But restraint has its own rewards: while a few muffled squarks might not be quite as cathartic as a squeal, they don't result in an hour of what-is-it-and-can-i-have-it earache from your weans. Which also is nice.
For some people, of course, a games console is a fundamental utility. My brother in law, for example, owns every major console produced since ever, and would rather have his water disconnected than be denied access to his tech-babies.
Me, less so. I’ve acclimatised. It’s about 15 years since I bought my last proper gaming device as I’ve frankly been unable to justify the outlay.
For this reason, I’ve had PlayStations, Xboxes and the like on my comping wishlist for, well, since first getting my act together and making a wishlist, actually. And as my children have been growing up, I’ve been thinking, gawsh … It won't be long before I’m going to have to spend actual folding money on one of these doohickeys or they - like me - will risk dropping out of the cultural loop. I know, first-world problems, right?
To be sure, dropping out of the cultural loop isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Case in point: I don’t think me banning them from watching the X-Factor is going to compromise their prospects in life. That said, I also suspect that the X-Factor does little to improve reaction time, problem-solving skills, multi-tasking or hand-eye co-ordination.
There’s also the fact that the video games sector now accounts for more than half of the UK’s entire entertainment market, so there’s worse career options out there.
The thing is though, for all I’ve been wanting to immerse my kids in this world of infinite exciting possibilities, my understanding of the field has shrivelled to the point of imbecility. The winning notification didn’t tell that I’d won a PS4; rather, it told me I’d won a PS4 Pro or an Xbox One something or other, and then asked which I wanted. They may as well have asked my cat whether it preferred Visa or Mastercard.
Fortunately, the extremely well informed
Nikki Hunter-Pike stepped up to the plate at short notice and made my decision for me (Thank you Nikki!).
I thought that was it, and spent a minute feeling all smug about my win, but then the promoter pinged back, asking what game I wanted, which - to revert to the previous analogy - was like asking my cat whether Facebook’s Libra is really a cryptocurrency or just a global digital currency based on blockchain technology. So, again, thank you Nikki for selecting something on my behalf - I look forward to playing once the advents are out of the way!
Until then, however, I will be thrashing the guts out of my comping engine. That’s not just because of the base comping orgy that is December, but also because big wins are so emboldening. Or, to put it another way, they stop you being able to think straight.
The comps on Prizefinder and the Competition Database will have been entered by thousands of people. I know that. Yet what was the first thing I did, after winning the console? Enter every damn holiday and big tech comp listed. Because you got to be in it to win it, right?
Well, yes. In a sense. But wouldn’t time be better spent hunting for better leads and smaller odds?
Whether it’s comping or poker or playing the horses, there’s a reason why the wiseguys do so well - they maintain their game and don’t turn into headless chickens at the first whiff of success. There’s also a reason why I’m not a wiseguy…
