1. Overwatch
Okay so the list title actually doesn’t make total sense since there’s no “finishing Overwatch”. I’ve put well over 300* hours into the game and I’ve yet to see the credits roll, get to the highest level, and feel a satisfaction in mastering any part of it.
*updated playtime
*this number has ballooned to well over 500 hours since i wrote this at the end of 2016!
I keep playing as the big old power-armored German dude with the giant rocket hammer and energy barrier to push payloads. I lead assaults on enemy territory, shielding my teammates while pitching the occasional fire wave at the opponents. If I see a pretender holding up his shield with his back near a wall, I charge and pin him against it. I sidestep immediately, anticipating his counterattack to charge me right back, and finish him off with one or two swings. Then I put every one else who was hiding behind his now non-existent barrier down on the ground with one mighty slam of my hammer, shattering the very earth they wrongly believe to be a steady constant.
Sometimes, I jump back and forth through space and time. With the cheeriest of spirits and the cartooniest of Cockney accents, I zip behind enemy lines, oversized ski goggles keeping my eyes sharp as I race against the wind. I zero in on angels, rollerblading DJs, or robot monks, and unload my dual machine pistols onto their squishy, unsuspecting bodies. Just as their death rattle alerts their hapless teammates, I’m already in the relative safety of my group, planning my next hit as my chronal accelerator cools down. Three Blinks and a Recall charged later, then it’s off to the races again.
When I’m feeling supportive yet saucy, I strap on a sniper rifle as a sweet, drug-dispensing senior citizen and shoot needles everywhere. Doesn’t matter who they inject their juice into. It makes my sons and daughters feel better. It makes all those other nasty ragamuffins flee or fall asleep; easier for my children to sweep them aside either way. But only to my favorites do I give the gift of nanomachines. Jack usually makes me proud. I know he cheats with his aimbot when he gets all those frags, but what’s a mother to do but encourage every one of her kids?
And there are days when I want to be a jetpack-jumping gorilla scientist, an energy-absorbing Olympic weightlifter, a reality-manipulating architect, a cowboy, or a ninja. Each one is their unique and satisfying power fantasy. It feels like a different game every time I switch characters, which isn’t even remotely apparent in most other multiplayer games with classes that I’ve played.
Some might point out the static skill sets to be indicative of shallowness, but I see it as equalizing every player and letting mechanical capabilities and awareness be the measuring sticks for performance.
You know Roadhog has a 6-second cooldown to his one-shot hook combo. You know Reaper can wipe out your team with his ult if you’re all bunched up. You know Mei will stall your capture with Blizzard, Cryo-Freeze, and Ice Wall. There are no exploitative limited-use purchasables, no legit more powerful weapons and abilities to unlock through experience points, and no swapping in and out of skills to min-max builds. It’s just you, your team, and your willingness to work together. How you play off each other and against the other team of misfits in any of the many modes now available is where you discover the depths of Overwatch.
The support Blizzard has given for the game also resoundly answers the criticism of lack of content. There are game-changing event brawls, 3v3s, 1v1s, no hero limits; and while not everyone of them are winners, they make for cool, interesting breaks from the usual.
And god I can’t get enough of that. Whether it’s through perfect coordination with friends or strangers or through my own sheer force of will and skill, it’s never not addictive feeling that rush of a well-fought victory. With how the default setup is limited to 6v6, every player and every play matters.
That’s probably it, really. Overwatch makes me feel like I matter.