From Pong to Warcraft, One Lawyer's Journey

In high school, my friends and I played Pac-Man, Galaga, and even Dungeons and Dragons (yes, I was one of those guys who’d roll their 20-sided dice at lunch while the cheerleaders walked by, scoffing).  We devoured the Lord of the Rings books and movies, and later we enjoyed a good video game or two. 

Now that I'm forty, I’m a husband, a father, a lawyer, a writer, a soldier, and . . . a level 80 night elf priest named Rickybobby. 

That’s right.  I’m a video gamer, and my game is the World of Warcraft.

Five years ago, when Blizzard Entertainment released the first version of “WoW,” we were living in Philadelphia, I was the president of a civil liberties nonprofit, and I was experiencing more responsibility (and stress) than I’d ever experienced in my professional life.  We were living in a new city (with kids about to enter the Philadelphia public school system) far from friends and family, and as president of a nonprofit, I was not only chief executive but also chief fundraiser -- It was my responsibility to keep the doors open.  My mind was dominated by work and family concerns.  Had we done the right thing leaving a lucrative law firm partnership?  Would the kids do okay living in Center City Philadelphia?  How, exactly, does one raise millions of dollars?  Even worse, I worried  I was going to lose contact with dear friends from “back home.”  Time and distance can do terrible things to friendships.

In short, I was stressed and had no way of relieving the stress — no outlet.  

Then I got a call from one of my old (fellow-geek) friends from college, who told me about a new game he’d started playing. 

So when he recommended a game, I listened.  “Get World of Warcraft,” he said.  “You’ll love it.” 

I bought it, signed on, and I was immediately hooked.

WoW is a massively multiplayer online roleplaying game, or MMORPG for short.  In other words, your “character” inhabits a fantasy world with thousands upon thousands of other players.  And sure enough, the first time I signed on, there was my friend, standing right beside me (in elven form, of course.)  It’s a game that literally never ends.  There’s always another quest to complete, another dragon to kill, and another dungeon to raid.  It’s immersive, it’s cooperative, and — honestly — more than a little addictive.  All that means is you have to exercise a bit of self-control if you play.

And so here I am, five years later, still playing — along with almost 13 million of my closest friends.  In the course of those years, I’ve met new friends — like a mom and quilt-maker in California, an air conditioning technician in Oregon, a college student in California (the fearless leader of our “guild,” the closest thing that WoW has to teams), and cops in Tennessee and North Carolina — I’ve ventured throughout strange and foreign lands, and I’ve always, always had a good time.

I cringe when I hear parents say, “Thankfully, my child isn’t into video games.”  Why are you thankful for that?  Video games can enrich your life, but — as in all things — boundaries must exist.  Games are more immersive than television and movies, for good and ill.  I’ve never met new friends through movies or TV, but I have in the World of Warcraft.  Moreover, movies and television (even the best films and shows) are far less engaging and interactive.  When my mind is fully engaged in Azeroth (the “world” in World of Warcraft), I’m disengaged from the troubles of the day.  The lush green of the Scholozar Basin is my golf course, and nights spent fending off the Faction Champions in the Trial of the Grand Crusader are my poker nights. 

In October, 2007, I deployed to Iraq with the 2d Squadron, 3d Armored Cavalry Regiment (“Sabre Squadron”).  We lived on a tiny base within sight of Iran in the eastern deserts of Diyala Province.  For month after month, we were locked in combat with al Qaeda.  The tension was constant, the fear sometimes palpable, and — particularly for four months in the Spring of 2008 — death seemed everywhere.  Early in the deployment, a few of us pooled our money and bought a satellite dish from some departing soldiers.  We installed it on the roof of our building, and set up a small wireless network that let twelve of us call home, check our email, and — when the weather was clear — set up a shaky connection with the world of Azeroth.  In those moments, Rickybobby, Malefactus, Lunarclaw, Obregal, and Dantanimagus would venture into a fully-realized fantasy world, play a game, and forget just for a moment where we were and what the rest of the day might hold.

Comraderie, friendship, and a momentary escape from reality -- that's what Warcraft means to me. 

So, if your kid opened up a brand new Xbox 360, Wii, PS3, or Nintendo DS, don't fret.  All you have to do is set boundaries, monitor his usage...  and make him scoot over on the couch.  

Because if the last game you played involved power pellets, Blinky, Pinky, Inky and Clyde, you'll definitely want to see what fun technological developments have happened since 1980. You'll forget the troubles of the day, forge new bonds with your kid, and maybe even slay a dragon or two.

by DAVID FRENCH, a Harvard educated lawyer, writer, and soldier. His next book, about his year spent in Iraq, comes out on July 4, 2011.