But it’s all for naught. The ball nestles beautifully in the back of the exposed net, and the scores are even. As the realisation that he’s failed to do his job hits him like a tank, the keeper realises that he’s a good few feet off the ground. Fearing the pain of hitting the deck with his organs exposed, he curls…lands…and swears to God that next time he’ll get back to his post quicker. Thumping the ground in anger and despair, next time…there’s always next time.

The room speeds up again, as if someone’s turned the power on in this particular 50′s café and the jukebox has kicked back in. A controller is flying across the room and from one side there are cheers of joy and utter disbelief at what’s just happened. From the other – a stony silence as one man’s three-match winning streak, that was due to be four (was the boasting of just seconds ago to be believed) is now under serious attack. The expletives fly. The calls of “YOU JAMMY GET!” begin to tail off as slowly sinking from his eyeballs , through to his brain, down to his heart and into his very soul – the cold mish-mash that sits in the centre of a humble pie manages to flood his body and curtail his anger. The scores are even now and as the whistle blows to restart the match, the emotions change once again, from humility and joy to equal levels of determination from either team. Both sides would rather win this war than see a set of top marks on their report cards. Both sides wouldn’t stop this battle from happening if a real war was to suddenly erupt and the walls were to come in. Both sides will have to live with the result forever.

Well, it’ll feel like forever. Especially if Dan doesn’t come round with his copy of FIFA International Soccer tomorrow to let us play out a rematch.

Believe it or not, that is the answer that we all want to give to our non-gaming acquaintances when they ask us the simple question “Why do you play?” or when they remark that we must be stupid for wanting to “just” play a game. Maybe your defining experience was with a different title. Maybe it was Doom, Monkey Island, Gauntlet, or Pac-Man. Maybe you felt like your internal differences were being worked out as you pitted your guns against nuclear decimation in Missile Command. Whatever your experience, it isn’t easy to tell someone why you play – and so we end up giving the stock answers that take a heck of a lot less time to dole out:-

“Because it’s fun.”

“Because I want to.”

“It lets me get away from it all.”

They’re all good answers – and they may well be valid ones – but they aren’t the whole story. The reason we pick up the controller, be it mouse, joypad, keyboard, light gun, joystick or steering wheel – is to gain new experiences. Personally, I recall times of my life based on what console or computer I was playing games on at the time. “The Christmas that Uncle Bobby came over? Let me see…I was playing Sonic the Hedgehog 2 on the Master System that day, so it must have been 1993.” “The year of that big fire? Oh yeah, hell…I remember that. It was awful. I had to stop playing Solaris on the 2600 to go and watch it.”

And this is why we game. We’re seeking out new experiences, and looking for answers. Somewhere out there, there is the absolute perfect game for each and every one of us. One that will never be beaten, no matter how powerful the machines get or how many developers come on board to code for it. There are the also rans that come close to this perfection, and these will be remembered fondly and as readily as that one true experience that will stay with us forever. We can’t all experience lobbing the keeper from the halfway line as David Beckham can, but we can work towards being able to do it in a videogame. When the work pays off and you finally manage it in a match against a friend – or even the CPU – the feeling of achievement as you realise that you’ve finally done it…you’ve finally managed to make that unscoreable shot…that’s when it all comes together. That second of realisation is why you play, but there’s no way to share that with one of the doubters who’s never felt it.

But maybe now, there is. You see, as gamers, we start out on a very basic level. For me, getting to grips with Donkey Kong on that old VCS and managing to save the girl that we now know as Princess Peach was my first taste of gaming success and even at the tender age of five – I knew that nothing tasted better. Now, could I do it five times in a row, without losing a life? The difficulty level was ramped up – not by the game, but by my own internal options menu. I was hooked. I didn’t know it, but I was, and progress followed. More consoles, computers and handheld games machines made their way into my possession, and I find myself here, with countless formats at my disposal. I’m still striving for the next split-second of realisation in every game that I play. Some games don’t provide any kicks at all, and they’re unfortunately in the majority. Some games provide a longer kick – such as those forty-hour epics that keep you engrossed and leave you feeling good for a week once you’ve finally managed to kill off that final boss and watch the credits roll.

You get addicted by loving your first taste. Simple as that. If someone has a bad experience with games – they can’t control the car in Gran Turismo, or they keep falling off the edge without any improvement due to the analogue sticks that they aren’t used to when controlling Super Monkey Ball – they’re less likely to come back and play more. And this is why I’m supporting Nintendo in the next-generation battle. With the innovative Wii console control system comprising of the Wiimote and Nunchuck, non-gamers will be able to use traditional movements to control the action on screen. You want to hit a tennis ball back? Hold the controller like a tennis racquet, and swing at the ball. You want to hit a strike in a bowling game? Hold the controller like you would a bowling ball, and perform a bowling action to aim at the pins. Simple. Controlling racing cars, boxing gloves, bows and arrows, guns…samurai swords…all done fluidly and as naturally as the technology will allow. It isn’t perfect, but it’s as close as you’ll get for the time being. The Xbox 360 is a fine choice of console for any gamer – especially with this month’s releases really getting the cash registers ringing and with good reason – but the Wii holds many subtexts and secrets.

This festive season, many a household will be alive as for the first time since the old days of the single button joystick – parents, grandparents, kid sisters and brothers who wouldn’t join in before because the control systems were too difficult to manipulate without lots of practice, will be joining their gaming relatives in front of the TV. All of these people who have either been burned by gaming before, or who haven’t enjoyed the taste of that first achievement, will be able to put their foot firmly on the first rung of the ladder. In business terms, this means that our industry – that despite being a multi-million pound business, is still seen by many as something just for socially retarded rejects – is about to get a hell of a lot more acceptable, and a damned sight larger too.

Nintendo, Wii (or I at least) salute you.

Things are different now. I seem to approach each game with pessimism and reluctance. And now, while playing these games, it’s frustration and annoyance that dictate my moods rather than happiness and fulfillment – I’ve smashed three controllers in the past year, where before I’d damaged none. I find that the majority of the games I play are bad, or at best, mundane.

Take The Warriors for example: Rockstar have done a fantastic job in developing this. They’ve managed to capture the essence of the film perfectly and along with it create a fantastic nostalgia for those who saw the movie back in 1979 when it was released. There are moments of genius, especially the riots – one particularly pleasing moment occurred when my gang steamed into an opposing gang with bats and knives (and I fear that was because it appealed to the more displeasing aspects of my psyche). But that was temporary. I swiftly became perplexed; rather than enjoying The Warriors for what it is – many reviews were mighty favorable – I instead drew on negatives despite trying to resist. I saw a game that was nothing more than a hybrid of GTA and State of Emergency. I considered that it might be my personal opinion, and this may be true, but I would have loved this as a kid, absolutely. And rather than this be a matter of taste, it’s a result of my experience with games. I’ve become aware of shortcuts that developers make and how they affect my gaming experience, I never considered such things as a willing child – I’ve become a grumpy old fart at the age of 24. And it’s not an intentional thing, I don’t notice such things in the first instance, it’s more of a feeling acquired through time.

Added to my frustration is that I only regularly play two games for enjoyment. Pro Evolution Soccer 5 and Battlefield 2. And this is in the face of some universally recognised quality titles. Oblivion was fantastic for the first hour or so, and then I lost interest. Why, when the entire gaming fraternity creams themselves, are my pants left dry?

Perhaps it’s that I review games and force myself to play objectively and thus my own personal opinion has been stifled so much that I can no longer enjoy a game for myself. Or perhaps I’ve been hit by some existential crisis and realise that I shouldn’t enjoy gaming as it is ultimately pointless unless there is some alternative goal – Battlefield and Pro Evo have become as much a social exercise as a gaming one. Although I doubt existentialism is to blame as it isn’t guilt at wasting my life that plagues me. Perhaps it’s the responsibility of work and girlfriends that whittle down “gaming time”.

Or just perhaps this is the way things go for gamers, and like all other aspects of maturing the huge detraction in the enjoyment to be had from games just hits different people at different times.

My time seems to have come in any case. I still love games; it’s just that I require a bit more from each one for it to deserve my attention for any longer than a modicum of my time.

Answers on a electronical postcard, or the comments box below for suggestions on how I might overcome this.