When Doom Comes To Dallas
Aug 6, 2008
"Keyboard and mouse is still the best way to play a first person shooter," John Carmack said at one point during his desultory keynote chat at QuakeCon 2008. He wasn't fishing for approval, but the hall erupted into spontaneous applause anyway. These people probably felt betrayed that series like Call of Duty and Rainbow Six had jumped ship and gone over to console systems. They were probably bitter that Halo is doing so well. They probably shuddered to think of children growing up knowing only gamepads. It was an auditorium full of the old-school, in love with their PCs, and at QuakeCon to show it.
QuakeCon is on its thirteenth year, having found a home at a hotel in Dallas about thirty minutes from the DFW airport, right along the freeway. It's billed as "the world's largest free LAN party", but it's also a gathering id fans. The company is a symbol of the golden yesteryear when games were made by geeks in garages instead of marketing dudes in office buildings. Doom and Quake came from a small out-of-the-way town in the middle of America instead of a huge campus in the Bay Area or an office building nestled against a movie studio in LA. Id is so 90s.
But id Software is changing. Their latest high-profile title, Rage, is being made for console systems and published by Electronic Arts. The developer has turned over development duties for Wolfenstein and Quake Wars to other companies. Meanwhile, they're aggressively cranking out mobile phone games based on their Doom and Wolfenstein license, and they're pinning their hopes to a free-to-play ad-supported online version of Quake III Arena called Quake Live. How much mileage will id get out of the past, and what the heck is the deal with Rage, which looks like a confused dune-buggy-driving/mutant-shooting/action RPG with destructible billboards?
Kinder gentler cuter Nazis
QuakeCon is free because of sponsors. The most conspicuous game publisher at this year's QuakeCon was Activision. On the show floor, they'd hired booth babes dressed as Nazis and toting toy guns. The Nazi-ettes tried to look stern as they commanded onlookers to do push-ups in exchange for T-shirts. Someone seems to have confused Nazis with drill instructors.
"Give me ten push-ups," the brunette leader with the armful of T-shirts barked at some skinny onlooker. He obligingly dropped to the ground. She went to put her high-heeled boot lightly on his back, but misjudged her balance and toppled forward a bit, planting the boot in his ribs.
"Oh my gosh," she said, "I kicked you. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I did that." He gamely finished his push-ups before accepting his T-shirt from the girl, who continued to apologize. She would have made a terrible Nazi.
Elsewhere on the show floor were usual suspects, like specialty PC-maker Alienware, caffeinated beverage brewer Bawls, and Intel. There was a server rental company, a headphones company, and an expensive-looking booth hawking fans and lights that supposedly made games more immersive. Ventrillo was giving away a very blue 2008 Corvette that crouched in the middle of the show floor. There were sponsored tournaments played using Quake Live, Quake Wars (including a 4 vs. 4 tournament played on the Xbox 360 version), and even Guitar Hero III. Conspicuously missing was graphics chip giant Nvidia, who will be starting the Nvision convention in San Jose this August with its own BYOC (Bring Your Own Computer) section -- that will cost $40, incidentally, ensuring that QuakeCon remains the world's largest free LAN party.
Wacky Costumes and More From QuakeCon >>
Bring Your Own
Most of the people who come to QuakeCon bring their computers and hook them up in a giant BYOC hall with space for nearly 3000. Early on, most of the people in line for registration were toting entire PCs, some more gracefully than others. Many of them had arrived by car, but I met one fellow named Adnan who flew in with his rig. He had a Velcro harness around his computer so he could carry it like a suitcase.
"You checked that?" I asked him.
"Carry on." He had a small flatscreen monitor in a backpack. I followed him and his friend Eric through the check-in procedure. After maybe forty-five minutes in line, they got up to the registration stations where volunteers took their information. The volunteer told me his name was Kevin, but he hastily amended that to "TR Bone Pro". Most QuakeCon attendees had their online names written on their nametags. Kevin noted the details about Eric's computer components and typed it into the system.
"Keyboard and mouse?" Kevin asked. When Eric mentioned some high-end mouse, Kevin murmured, 'nice'. It was his fourth year as a volunteer. He proudly noted that the year before he'd worked a 24-hour shift. This year, based on how many hours they'd worked, volunteers like Kevin were eligible for a few of the precious raffle tickets for the very blue Corvette.
"External hard drive, iPhone, PSP, video camera?" Kevin asked. Eric shook his head.
Everyone admitted into the BYOC hall got a print out listing exactly what they'd brought along. When it's time to pack up and leave, no one's allowed to take out anything that isn't on his list. There's a lot of goodwill here among attendees, but there's also a lot of expensive equipment.
As Eric and Adnan set up their computers, they told me about how QuakeCon has changed. Adnan remembers when Carmack's keynotes were informal chats in small rooms. Both Adnan and Eric used to come for the modding roundtables, but those have fallen by the wayside as the line between modders and professional developer blurs. As Eric and Adnan talked and untangled cords, someone two tables over stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth like he was going to yodel. "I need! To buy! A network card!" he called out, his voice booming.
The cosplay's the thing
A group of University of Texas students got a lot of attention for dressing up like the characters from Team Fortress 2. They tested the outfits out at last May's A-Kon, an anime convention here in Dallas. "They didn't recognize us so much over there," said the team's medic, Jeff. Later, I saw them crossing the sweltering hot courtyard with an entourage of about ten people in tow, their engineer leading the way. Which isn't very wise, but considering they lacked a heavy gunner or a soldier, they probably didn't have much choice.
QuakeCon is also notable for a lack of women. This is old-school gaming, a boys' pursuit, geared to fast reflexes and a strident disregard for ninny concerns like narrative and atmosphere. These are gamers interested in skill and competition. In other words, boys, although many of them have grown up over the 13 years of QuakeCon.
Sure, some guys bring their girlfriends or wives, but they're often in a support role rather than actual players. I was astonished at one point to hear a woman in the hallway explain to a group of guys how to play the scout on a particular Team Fortress 2 map. The more common scenario is a young woman named Ashley I found perched on a pile of equipment, waiting for her companion Charles and their little boy Jacob.
She said she doesn't play many games. "What's the one I like?" she asked Charles. "It's Quake III," he said and gave me that 'women' look. It was Charles' fifth QuakeCon. They'd driven down from St. Louis, camping out on the way, dealing with a detour to the hospital when Ashley got dehydrated and a blown power supply for Charles' custom-built computer. But once they arrived, their enthusiasm picked up. Jacob was practically skipping as they got in line for registration. "QuakeCon is always a wonderful trip," Charles beamed.
When I asked one attendee how the convention has changed over the years, he thought for a moment. "You know," he concluded, "I've probably changed more than it has."
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