An old friend comes back to say 'Halo'

After years of anticipation, Halo 3 was greeted in stores last week by lengthy lines and midnight sales. The hype had been robust, and the promotion ubiquitous; everything from Mountain Dew labels to a NASCAR hood had Master Chief, Halo's pugnacious protagonist, tattooed in prominent positions. The average American citizen could not go far without being reminded that the holy war between humanity and the Covenant would soon resume (although perhaps that citizen would not be so familiar with the belligerents).

The game piled up a reported $125 million in first day sales, and had hoped to break the opening weekend receipts of Spider-Man 3, another enormous 2007 release accompanied by a pervasive ad campaign. Such lofty aspirations are noteworthy because movies bear none of the geek stigma of video games.

Yet, if you live in a residence hall, you have probably seen people playing Halo 3, or at least heard the resultant cries of defeat from a nearby room. Video games are not cool, and they will probably never be cool, but the excitement around Halo and the extensive playing time by everyone from defensive linemen to math majors prove that video games are approaching a level of acceptance among the general population.

Especially in social use. One night last week, Zach Piccioli, A&S '09, and Vinny DyReyes, CSOM '09, demonstrated the game's impressive power by playing the campaign mode together on their behemoth 66-inch high definition TV.

Instead of playing the game alone, curtains drawn and lights off, the two played through in tandem, a steady stream of chatter between them. The two had bought the game last Monday at midnight at the nearby Arsenal Mall, waiting in a long line, though not one of the chaotic, Soviet bread-line waits that were reported. DyReyes guessed they had waited a half an hour.

The two have played it quite a bit, enough to be impressed by the improved graphics and new weapons, but have yet to truly reach the meat of the game. They estimated they were about a fifth of the way into it.

"There's a lot of content in the campaign mode," Piccioli said. "So we've been exploring that."

"I heard some kid beat it already, but that's just ridiculous," DyReyes said.

Neither of them have played much of the new game's celebrated multiplayer mode, though in the past they have played their share. When work and other obligations began to subside, they said, they would start to play more.

"Some guys from sophomore year we used to play with got it too, so we'll probably link with them online," Piccioli said. "The BC network was pretty awesome for that."

Upstairs, Mike Heywood, A&S '09, (known in Halo land as "BigMike") Conor McNellis, A&S '09 (known in Halo land as Stellar), and a third student who wished to be known only by his avatar, "CRD," sat around a television playing a multiplayer mode. They were reticent, hesitant to speak about a video game for public record, although McNellis was quick to proclaim that he was "the best Halo player at Boston College." Eventually they started talking about the game's changes and improvements, showing off its power. They had gotten their copy through a friend the night it came out.

"My friend bought it for me and brought it over at 1 a.m.," Heywood said. "We played until about 3 a.m. We tried to make a big thing out of it and order food, but it didn't work."

Because of tests and work, the four have yet to indulge in any binge slayer, but they have played a fair amount. When asked about their Halo playing history, an interesting history slowly emerged.

"We played a lot in the dorms on the networks," said Heywood, who claimed that when other kids saw him enter a game they would quit.

"Last year we took a break. We played Guitar Hero and Super Smash Brother a lot. But Halo is still my favorite."

"Didn't we meet playing Halo?" Heywood said to CRD.

"Kind of," CRD said. "It facilitated it."

"After I'd crush him I'd go over to his room and make fun of him for a while," Heywood said. "I didn't even know him that well when I started doing it."

Piccioli and DyReyes continued playing downstairs, and they too talked about the social uses of Halo, reminiscing about epic networked battles past.

"That's how I started playing Halo," DyReyes said. "Guys on my floor played, and I got into it. I bought an XBox for that."

Piccioli agreed. "It's a group thing," he said.

Later, Edison Baquero, CSOM '09, another Halo fan, spoke over the phone about his early impressions of the new game. In the background, there was an impressive din ("As we speak I'm in the fight," he said.)

Baquero has been impressed by what he has seen of the game, not only the improved graphics but the thought put into the design. "Every room looked the same for hours in Halo 2, but the art direction's a lot better in this."

Baquero has yet to get as far as he would like in the game, both because of other obligations and because he plans to play through the game with a partner.

"I've been waiting to do the co-op with my friend," Baquero said. "We've been busy doing schoolwork, so we're going to start doing it this weekend."

Baquero had not planned to play through it with a friend, but the friend had brought the idea up and Baquero had eagerly agreed. For Baquero, like so many others, Halo is not just a game to play by himself in his down time. Players who love Halo can give it away, too.

"It's a simple game where you can hold a conversation and you don't have to be concentrating really hard," Baquero said. "It's easy to talk to people. Everyone's played it a thousand times, so you can find common ground," he said.

Perhaps, in these hectic, upside-down, mixed-up times, Halo can help us find common ground as our lingua franca.

"On the floors freshman year, we'd all play together," Baquero said. "People didn't know each other, but everyone knew Halo."