Folks spend their money and time on what they want or what's important to them, gamers included.  Ah, but it's never that simple, is it?  There are as many stories about collections as there are collectors, and probably half as many assumptions about both that are mistaken for various reasons.  In the same way that a person's income, background, religion, appearance, and other factors often lead to very inaccurate assumptions about an individual, often anyone who owns more than a few video games can be labeled quite incorrectly.   



An obvious one is how it's understandably easy to assume someone with a large media collection is somewhat of a materialist in the sense that they spend much of their time desiring toys and physical "stuff."  And there comes a point (that naturally varies for each person) where, to an outside observer, the size of a collection can seem excessive, and even as "hoarding." 


Many are quick to answer that it's really nobody else's business; if it doesn't hurt anyone else, who cares?  But I think there are better, less stand-offish answers as well.  Now to be fair, there are folks who develop unhealthy obsessions, and require outside interventions to return to healthy states of mind, but that's a different (though related) topic.

Sometimes a gamer looks around, realizes they own far more than they really want or need, and they decide that a good purge is in order.  Often space gets to be more of a concern as collections grow, or finances dictate the need to sell luxury items.  But what about those of us who have a few hundred, or even a few thousand games, who don't intend to sell any time soon?  Some collectors did not start out intending to collect as much as they have, but they continue to amass more over the years.  Others are very calculating and specific as their inventory grows.  While some collectors sort of 'buy into' a few bulk lots and end up with a sizable amount very quickly.  Again, not that I'm saying any excuses are in order or that there are even reasons beyond having fun; what I am saying is, often, there's something else.  A story.

When I was a little kid, I daydreamed about owning every video game ever made.  I figured I'd slowly pick up a copy of everything ever released, and me and my friends could play anything whenever we wanted.  I've long since left that 'goal' (thankfully!) but not the reputation of being the guy who can usually point out a good match of a game to a person.

For the first decade or so of collecting, I'd often trade or buy low and sell high in order to fund my gaming.  But now and then, a friend would come over and ask about a game I had no desire to play and had already traded or sold.  They would usually just shrug and we'd play something else, but after awhile I realized that I enjoyed keeping anything I knew someone would pick up and play.  As a result, I started keeping games I may not play as long as I had someone in mind who would play them.

I've always enjoyed spending lots of time researching random topics that interest me, and (for better or worse) few things interest me more than video games, video game culture, media development, and anything related.  So I also started picking up games simply because they were interesting, unique, cheap, or notable.  Being an avid flea market, garage sale, and retro game store hunter, over the years my game collection grew to a decent size.  I eventually found the greatest gaming holy grail, a beloved wife who enjoys video games!  Thus, the collection became ours instead of just mine, and we shared adventures like hunting down Dreamcast games (our first system together!) and NES (her intro to gaming, and of course one of my favorite systems.)

Then the inevitable setback.......during a scouting trip to determine where we would move, someone broke into our home and stole almost everything of value, including our media collection.  No one was hurt, but the blow to our security and the broken tether to our material belongings was, pun intended, a "game changer."  We moved with a lot less than what we had owned only weeks prior.

My beloved and I bought another Dreamcast, and while we never intended to 'restore' what was stolen, I still enjoyed "the hunt" and slowly, year after year, we continued to pick up random deals and neat finds.  Then I started working for different retail stores that sold video games, and eventually landed my dream job; managing a mom-and-pop game store!  For several years, I picked up anything of interest that came through, carefully managing our income so I wouldn't just spend each check before I left work.  We began setting up LAN parties and multiplayer games almost every weekend, and social gaming continued to be a persistent source of weekly enjoyment.


As our collection grew over the years, I finally had to begin making a discernment.  We crossed a threshold; we would never have enough time to play everything we owned, and I didn't want to feel wasteful and greedy. Or worse, let something that had brought me so much joy over the years turn into an awful burden.  I thought and prayed long and hard for over a year.  Was all of this stuff just really weighing us down?  Every action serves a master; were we just hoarding things, needlessly amassing stuff we assumed we liked, letting video games absorb our lives? 

It took awhile, but it occurred to me that the main reason I was still enjoying our collection wasn't really about the games as much as the people in our lives enjoying them.  Almost every weekend we were playing something with friends, on systems spanning the Odyssey 2 to the PS4.  Our 360 LAN has hosted some of our best gaming memories, from tight-knit teamwork "horde" modes to hilarious free-for-alls.  We stayed up all News Year's Eve several times playing Rock Band and Guitar Hero.  Marathon retro gaming sessions, impromptu tournaments, pass-the-controller challenges, all sorts of variations.  And while this comes across as a lot of randomness, there is actually a lot of planning behind it all. 

As I've written before, I desire to be very purposeful, very intentional in anything I do, and this naturally extends to my gaming.  In fact, I view most of my gaming as sort of a series of projects.  If I'm in a Rock Band, it's all about the Band and working together; thus, I save all of my energy bar to save anyone in trouble.  If it's a game with delineated roles, I'm usually the support guy or medic, doing the background stuff to help my team.  I enjoy seeing whatever game we're playing as not specifically a thing to win, but a series of goals I can break down and help out with.

For example, one of my favorite self-designated multiplayer set-ups is something I like to call "Rook takes King"  (a play on the Chess pieces as well as "rookie").  This is when you have a few friends who are really good at a game, and one or two folks who are either inexperienced or "not much of a gamer," but are still willing to play.  The gist is that the team does any and everything to make sure the Rook wins!  If we're playing COD Zombies or Rainbow Six Vegas/2 Terrorist Hunt mode, our goal is to see how many levels we can keep the Rook alive.  If we're playing a CTF FPS, each team has a Rook who is the only one that can touch the flag!  A racing game like Dirt 3 means the Rook has to take first, so the rest of the team's goal is to hunt and crash the rest of the AI competition! Of course, it's really only practical to set this up on a home LAN or a game with same-screen couch co-op as we don't want to ruin the fun for online random players.  'Rook takes King' allows people of mixed ability levels to have fun, while growing the Rook's skills and adding a different challenge for veterans.  In fact, it makes some games play completely differently.  And most games that support four or more players can be done like this including: Bomberman, Helldivers, the later Mario Karts, Smash Bros, any Halo or Gears of War, Towerfall, NBA Jam and many sports games, the 6-player Guardian Heroes arena mode, and even four player Pong.    Not only has this produced some crazy heroics, self-sacrifices that helped win the game, and team-bonding intensity, but it means just about anyone can jump in. People who would ordinarily be too intimidated to play, get a chance to have as much fun as the rest of us.  It's not something we do all the time, but when everyone's up for it, it produces some of the best gaming moments.   
 
On the flip side of multiplayer mayhem are the quieter nights.  Sometimes a friend may be struggling with things in life and they just aren't up for a big multiplayer bash, but they don't want to be alone either.  So we put together multiple niches that allow someone to almost wordlessly plop on a chair or bar stool near one of many extra TV and game machines. We then turn on a nostalgic title or mental wheel-spinner to play so that they can process their stress, while being around company that respects the need.  And many nights my beloved and I have sat in a two-person recliner and played together through anything we were interested in, be it co-op adventure or a single player shared experience.  I've also mentioned before how several titles we own have old save files or tucked-in paper passwords marking one of the last experiences I had with someone who has passed away.  There are some portables and RPGs that helped me get through some long hospital nights.  And of course, there was the recent experience that Alien Isolation helped me cope with in a special way. 

Over the years, I've noticed I play fewer single player games unless I'm doing my daily stationary bike workout or the occasional wind-down time at the end of the day.  There are the occasional titles that get more time just for fun, but the lion's share of my gaming is done either around or for/with others.  I'm not implying it should be this way for every gamer; we're all different, with different needs and desires and things we find fun.  But there is a consistent danger for anyone who owns lots of stuff; as the saying goes, the stuff can end up owning you.

And so I was pleased to realize that we were indeed using games to serve us, to connect to others, share experiences, exercise, and just unwind.  We certainly have plenty of other hobbies and things we do together with family and friends, but video games tend to be our favorite.  I also realize I have to remain diligent, as our collection could easily create an unhealthy attachment to "stuff" and take too much focus away from the things that are really important to us.  Things could change over the years, though it's hard to imagine my beloved and I no longer enjoying the "hunt" together that has slowly produced our shared gaming collection.  As I look around, I see not so much a collection of games, but a collection of memories, reminders, thought provokers, and stories.  There are various art books, CE figures, and soundtracks that have generated late night discussions with friends or have fueled into-the-morning writing sessions.  Our collection has been a medium in the truest sense, an agency by which much is accomplished......and just a ton of fun.   

There will come a time where our stuff will pass on to someone else, be it our kids or friends, and I've come to a place of peace knowing that besides the childhood nostalgic pings of some games from my youth, I will happily do my best to one day hand down our collection.  I hope in the future this stuff serves its purpose elsewhere as well as it has for us. 
       
There are almost as many stories about collections as there are collectors.  What's Yours?

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