The Boy Who Cried Blockchain

Now, I'll be the first to admit that it wasn't too long ago that I realized that non-fungible has nothing to do with mushrooms (unless, of course, you have a Toad NFT from the Super Mario Bros. metaverse).

So, much like Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side, I was a late adopter. But then I saw that blockchain gaming was the technological equivalent of a star 315 lb offensive lineman with a heart of gold. So what happened? What made me drink from the ceremonial “Mountain Dew Game Fuel” punch and transcend into a true blockchain gaming believer?

Well, to answer that, we first have to take into account the gaming industry at large. At one point or another, we've probably all fallen prey to the siren song that is the hype of the video game industry. We've all seen that sharp-dressed video game evangelists take the stage at E3 and sell us on some new tech leveraged in their game “Motion controls are the future! This is VR time! The controller doubles as a pasta strainer!”

We see this; we believe the hype, and what happens? We get the new PastaStation 5 only to realize that it doesn't work any better than the colander under our sink and doesn't even support spaghetti.

It feels like the industry didn't listen to what we, the actual gamers, wanted.

Repeat this hype cycle enough times, and eventually, people become jaded to the industry at large. I was one of those people, but then blockchain gaming came along.

My interest was piqued. I raised an eyebrow like Elon after a toke of indica. I'd been interested in the crypto market for some time now, and I enjoy video games, so naturally, I took a peek. I could hear those sirens again, but this time they sounded like Soul Asylum “Hype train never going back,” so I did my own research...

And I know guys, “I did my own research” is the tagline of most flat-leathers and anti-vaxxers, but trust me on this, blockchain gaming is pretty dope. I know our moms told us not to trust strangers on the internet, but hopefully, that's better than some corporate tech evangelist trying to sell you on some gimmick that no gamer actually wants. As a matter of fact, the very reason that I trust game industry opinions from an internet stranger over the “Big AAA GamE CompAny” spokesperson is the very reason I'm excited about blockchain gaming: decentralization. Sweet, sweet, decentralization.

Decentralization means that when I fire up The Sandbox and buy some sick Avenged Sevenfold pigeon armor, all of that crypto doesn't go to “Big AAA Game CompanyBisoft; it goes to my fellow internet stranger. That's cool. For the first time in many years, a gaming technology movement is truly exciting to us, the player.

It seems like the hype train might have finally come to the station. Finally, this is something we can actually buy into. But decentralization isn't the only reason I donned the ceremonial mullet and joined the fold of blockchain gaming believers. It was also money.

For me, it's not even the “making money” part that's the appeal. It's just that when something of real value is added to the game, I become exponentially more invested. I've never been the type to grind to milk a game for every last trophy or achievement it has to offer. Don't get me wrong, it's a nice little dopamine hit to see “Master of Hot Spoons” pop up on-screen after forging a sword entirely out of melted spoons, but at the end of the day with traditional games, that trophy is worthless.

With blockchain games, that's no longer the case. Now that trophy that I earned by the sweat of my thumbs isn't just a virtual dust collector in the PastaStation netherverse. Now it's something of real value, and that's dope. Maybe you're not quite ready to drink the Hype-Aid with me. No worries, I get it, but consider this example.

Say you open up The Sandbox and look upon your trophy shelf. There's nothing there, not even a participation trophy. That weird uncle of yours said your generation is handing out those like hotcakes, so what gives? No matter, this is The Sandbox; you can make any kind of NFT you want! You decide you're not going to create a trophy at all! Remember that sweet pigeon armor from earlier? You found out that Avenged Sevenfold hasn't yet released that line of sick pigeon armor NFTs, so you create your own PgnKrftKing420 line of pigeon armor. Are there pigeons? Who cares? You'll make those too! It's your life, and your uncle can't tell you what to do! You finish your avian armor, proudly stick it on your hastily crafted pigeon, and it soars around The Sandbox landscape like Ironman. This pigeon is thinking, “I might be a pigeon, but by God, I feel like Tony Stork.”

WshIHadPgnArmr421 sees how majestic your pigeon looks in that armor and searches The Sandbox market for some pigeon armor of his own. Guess what? PgnKrftKing220 is the only one on the market. He buys your armor. Others see WshIHadPgnArmr421 rocking your pigeon armor. You continue to craft more, and your pigeon armor spreads like wildfire. PgnKrftKing420 becomes the gold standard of The Sandbox pigeon armor market. You become richer than Notch. You buy The Baltimore Ravens. So effectively, instead of getting a flashing trophy indicator as a reward for your gaming accomplishments, you've been rewarded The Baltimore Ravens and the rights to The Blind Side 2.

In theory, I suppose the aforementioned scenario COULD happen, but just like in the real world, it's not likely you'll become an overnight sensation and billionaire for crafting the world's finest pigeon armor. It's more likely that you'll create your pigeon armor sell it for around 7 $SAND to someone who likes the cut of your jib. Then maybe you exchange that $SAND for 7 dollars and finally exchange those dollars for lunch at Chipotle.

Chipotle may not sound like much, but for a competitive person like me, the idea of playing for something tangible makes a game so much more fun and engaging. There's just something about having that “thing” that makes you feel so much better about winning the game. I'm not alone either.

When I was in college, I remember going to a local Soul Calibur tournament. I made it to the finals and competed against one of my best friends. This was a friend who I'd beaten countless times at home. Time and time again, he'd been what one might refer to as “REKT,” but apparently, in the time leading up to the tournament, he'd found a way to “git gud.” He beat me outright. There was no prize money for the winner, just a trophy that one of our friends fashioned out of scrap metal. It looked like a piece of Brutalist artwork that would give you tetanus if you touched it and certainly kill you if it fell on your head. It's worth next to nothing, but here's the thing. He still has that eyesore of a trophy to this day. He displays it proudly as a monument to the day he publicly spanked me in a humiliating defeat. And even though I lost, that was still one of the most fun matches of Soul Calibur I've ever played.

And so that's why I'm sold on blockchain gaming. It's not because some tech evangelist told me to. It's because it feels like the first time the industry is giving us, the player, what we asked for. Now we can battle one another for our very own virtual tetanus trophy. And if we lose because the other player's pigeon armor had better stats, that's okay because the spoils go to the victor, not “the man.” But you don't have to take my word for it. I'm just a stranger on the internet.

This article is part of The Gaming Metaverse Writing Contest hosted by HackerNoon in partnership with The Sandbox.

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