How Difficult Games Ruined and Enriched My Life. Or, How many controllers have YOU broken?

I'll answer my own question first, so I can speak with a clear conscience: two. My first broken controller was for the NES. I broke it playing Castlevania, and I was twelve years old. I didn't screw around, either; after yet another humiliating death at the hands of Frankenstein, I stormed out of the room, got a twenty pound weight from my dad's weight bench, stormed back to the den, and threw that sumbitch at the offending piece of hardware, which died a quick, agonizing and inglorious death. At that point in my life, I had never felt so satisfied. In my juvenile and offended mind, righteous justice had been served. Score one for organic life.

The second controller was about a year ago. It was a SIXAXIS controller for the PS3, I broke it playing Call of Duty 4 single player, and I was twenty seven. I had been trying to clear the infamous TV station level for nearly an hour, and even though I could see how to advance, infinitely spawning enemies kept killing me just as I'd finally manage to approach their spawn point. "Just one more time", I promised myself, and reloaded my save. I died within a minute. I didn't screw around then, either: I launched that controller through the wall at top speed, inadvertently reloading my save and making lifelong enemies with my neighbors. My girlfriend was mortified. At that point in my life, and to this day, I've never been more annoyed with myself. Score one for cold, indifferent technology.

(Adding insult to injury, while retrieving the controller from the hole in the wall, those goddamn terrorists killed me again. Score TWO for cold, indifferent technology.)

I did eventually clear the TV station, but only after a long period of postponement. I had other things to do. Work, school, and all the other stuff that adults are forced into to pay their way through life are now more important than pretending to be a soldier. My real life responsibilities came to call, and I had no interest in spending more of my life being angry. My free time is too precious for that. I'd rather play a few rounds of Virtua Fighter 5 on the sofa with my friends than be shamefully slaughtered by computer controlled terrorists over and over again.

So. When does a game become so difficult and infuriating that it drives me into a situation where I actually choose to interact with other humans in order to beat them silly(virtually) on my couch, as opposed to shooting terrorists solo in an unnamed middle-eastern location in order to further the cause of freedom(also virtually)? When does it cross that invisible, blurry line that separates 'frustrating' from merely 'challenging'? There's no easy answer that fits everyone(an experience will always differ from person to person), but I think I understand how I personally react to difficulty in games. If I'm not being consistently rewarded for playing the game, then I give up and move on to something else.

That seems simple, or even self-evident, but it's more art than science. I can lose in a Street Fighter 3 or Virtua Fighter match because I know that I'm being rewarded with a deeper understanding of how the game works every time I hit the mat. Over time, my mastery of the game increases, which manifests in beating the A.I. consistently and making my friends on the couch break more of my controllers. Other games offer more immediate rewards; experience points, unlockable characters, or loot. Some rewards are more intangible; the atmosphere of Silent Hill and Shadow of the Colossus, the exploration of Oblivion, or the 'wow' factor of how good Metal Gear Solid 4 looks on my HDTV. There's a feeling of equal pay(reward) for equal time(...um..time), and it might be the single most important factor in deciding whether or not I'll continue to play a game.

Guys like Criterion get it. In Burnout: Paradise, I choose how I want to advance. Alternately, I can choose NOT to advance, and it's still fun and rewarding. If I crash or fail an event, there's no 'Game Over' and a kick to the title screen. I'm not being punished for learning the ropes. I honestly think that games like Call of Duty 4 single player and Ninja Gaiden are going to die out as gaming becomes more and more mainstream; casual players don't have a history with arcade or 8 bit games that insulates them from being frustrated with something that seems like it hates them personally. They'll move on, and so, eventually, will the developers.

That isn't to say that all games should be objectively easy, either. Don't get reductive; that's MY job. What developers will do is figure out ways to cater to both crowds, without something as crude(and historically uneven) as a difficulty setting. What could that be? I encourage the reader to check out the scaling difficulty in Sin Episodes, or the TrueSkill mechanic on Xbox Live for a good idea.

I've paid my dues. I did finally beat Frankenstein in Castlevania. I can still play through Einhander without a continue, and I walk tall in Ninja Gaiden. Xbox or NES. You pick. I've decided that I'll never again break a controller in anger. It's not worth my time.

Plus, I figure this post scores a point on cold, unfeeling technology. That makes us even.

My car better start tomorrow.