Phantom Limb: Heroes of the Storm, Teamwork,
and Being Almost Good Enough
Article
Abstract: Heroes of the Storm, Blizzard’s take on a MOBA, quickly converted
me from genre skeptic to fan. After months of play, however, I began to feel a
unique anxiety towards solo play unlike anything I’ve previously experienced in
a team-based competitive online multiplayer. I feel almost good enough, like I’m playing without the use of one arm. The
feeling is a mixture of inadequacy and cognitive dissonance between my
individual performance and the match’s end result. A friend’s perspective can
ameliorate the feeling, though I’m still not entirely sure why.
I spent
many years purposefully in the dark about MOBAs (Multiplayer Online Battle
Arena). My time spent playing Warcraft 3 was
well behind me. I had transitioned away from the PC as my primary gaming device
of choice. In fact, I didn’t even hear about the genre in any significant way
until college, during which a couple members of pep band wouldn’t shut up about
League of Legends (LoL). I gave MOBA’s a cursory chance to
woo me that year and they failed miserably.
LoL felt like an unnecessarily complex boring click-fest of a game. So when
DOTA2 began floating around in the
gaming circles I found myself frequenting, it too was hastily brushed off.
‘They’re just not for me.’
As the
years went on, and especially after I began to write and talk about games on the
internet, I felt obligated to get to know the genre better. It was for the sake
of my viewpoint and my edification in a style of game that seemed to be only
gaining more traction, and more mindspace, in the collective “gamer” population. To make a long story short, I began hearing about Blizzard’s foray into
the genre from various sources I respected. Defenders claimed that Heroes of the Storm (Heroes) was a great entry
point into the genre. Others claimed that Heroes was the game that converted them from MOBA-skeptic to MOBA-fan. The official
release of the game in early June this year was the catalyst—I resolved to
finally see what the fuss was all about.
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| I felt wrong sharing my thoughts on the genre without giving a single title an earnest chance to impress me. |
I was shocked.
Within a couple play sessions, a few hours here and there, Heroes of the Storm clicked. I got it. I was having fun. I wanted
to play more and more. Compared to my brief experiences with LoL and DOTA2, which felt intentionally repellent towards new users, Heroes felt tailor made for someone like
me. Someone who had written off the genre, and someone who didn’t want to
devote 50-100+ hours to learning game systems. Heroes simplified the experience. The team levels up as a unit,
skills are gained at level-based talent tiers, there are no last hits, map
objectives give the player something to do between soaking and skirmishes,
games are usually done within 20-25 minutes. Heroes understood me. And,
within a remarkably short timespan, I felt like I understood it too. I read up
on map strategies and ideal team hero compositions. I spent time honing my
favorite heroes’ skill shots so that I could land devastating combos during
team fights. Within two weeks or so, I felt pretty damn competent. It was a
great feeling. I finally felt the rush that I imagined LoL or DOTA2 players got
when playing, and the excitement expressed by the millions of fans of each
game’s competitive scene.
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| Heroes of the Storm can be an absolute blast. Just look at that focus! |
For about
two to two and a half months I played Heroes religiously. I made sure to get a few games in every couple of days
to secure the gold from daily quests. I spent a good amount of time playing
with my friends, who had all recently started playing too, but the majority of
my time was spent playing solo. As time went on, though, I felt an increasing
disconnect from my experience. Days would go by between my play sessions,
sometimes entire weeks. Whenever I saw a friend online I would boot up Heroes to play together, but I lost the
compulsion to play alone. I’ve essentially stopped solo queuing altogether. It
was a strange feeling that I couldn’t quite put my finger on until recently.
I’ve never been someone who requires friends to play in online modes. Ever. But
playing Heroes alone became a trying
experience, that exhausted and frustrated rather than energized and exhilarated.
 |
| I have no real way to prove my commitment to Heroes. But I think my F2P hero collection speaks for itself. |
When trying
to isolate the source of the problem my mind kept coming back to teamwork. Before
I dive any deeper, let me respond to some of the questions you’re probably
already thinking. Yes, of course I knew that Heroes (& all MOBAs) are heavily reliant on teamwork. Yes, I know
it’s easy to blame your teammates for losing in a MOBA: that’s not what I’m
doing here. And yes, I’ve played team-reliant multiplayer games before as a
solo player and not lost interest. Let me expand upon that last point. Despite
my long history of playing predominantly solo, I’m not new to team based games.
I played the highly team coordination-dependent game modes in Call of Duty like Search & Destroy,
and the objective based Rush and Conquest in Battlefield 3. I’ve played co-operative games like SOCOM and Borderlands and Castle
Crashers. Rocket League is
another recent favorite. I’ve written all of those examples to say that I knew,
at least partially, what I was getting into with Heroes.
A Heroes of the Storm team working poorly
together is an issue, to be clear, but not the one I’m writing about today.
Especially because I was well aware of this issue before I even started playing
the game. For Heroes in particular, it
was made clear to me from the outset that one amazing player could not win the
game for a team.
Just this
week I finally got a grasp on what exactly
my problem was. It’s simple. I felt almost
good enough, just shy of how good I should
be to lead my team to victory. The image that first popped into my head was
that of Tantalus. As punishment for butchering his son Pelops and preparing him
as a feast for the gods, Tantalus was made to stand in a pool of water beneath
a fruit-bearing tree for eternity. No matter how hungry he got, every time he
reached up to the low-hanging fruit above his head the branch was just out of
reach. No matter how thirsty he got, every time he lowered his head to drink
the water receded away. That’s how many of my games feel in Heroes. I can see the fruit, and can feel
the water around my neck, but no matter how hard I work, the two (and my
feeling of aptitude) are just out of reach.
 |
| If only I could eat this fruit, I'd be good enough at Heroes. Or if I could drink this water, my team could win. |
Playing Heroes often feels like playing a sport with
one limb immobilized. I picture myself trying to play a round of pick-up
basketball or a game of slow-pitch softball, but I only have one arm. Sure, I’m
able to play the game and can even be pretty good at it. But it feels off. I end my matches left with the sense that I’m not playing to
the fullest of my abilities. I’m playing the game within the zone of
proximal development. Like I’m struggling to perform something so simple,
and something that I’ve done before unencumbered by the loss of a limb. My
phantom limb.
The
feeling, for the moment, is unique to Heroes
of the Storm. I suspect part of this feeling derives from how the game
rewards individual skill. When I played Call
of Duty, wins and losses never felt impactful. The player’s individual
skill was met with a whole suite of rewards. The game highlighted end of match
stats like kill-death ratio and headshots. Mid-game, killstreaks, awards and
score pop-ups created a positive feedback loop of self-gratification. So even
when playing Search and Destroy, Call of
Duty’s take on Counterstrike’s
main game mode and a highly team-reliant endeavor, my individual skill was at
the crux of my experience. And, even when we lost, I had powerful tools of self-assessment—I
knew when I did well and when I did poorly.
 |
| Search and Destroy truly tests teamwork. Win or lose, though, I was able to accurately assess my performance. |
Heroes of the Storm has many of same the player
feedback systems described above: stats, killstreak announcements, etc. These rewards
are traps, though. Your end of match numbers are often meaningless to the game’s
end result. Sure, if you’re 25-0 you know you did well, but that’s usually more
reflective of your entire team’s performance than your own. You cannot go 25-0
when your team is being steamrolled on objectives, or your team is a
talent-tier behind. I can’t tell you the number of games where I’ve had the
highest siege damage or hero damage or experience earned, but our team was
absolutely annihilated. That’s where the feeling of inadequacy stems from for
me. Despite the game telling me that I’m
doing well, the collective I (my team) can be doing awfully. That disconnect
reinforces the feeling that “if only I had done more hero damage we could have
won.” Wins and losses really feel meaningful in Heroes, much more so than any other team-based game I’ve played. It’s
on the level of a fighting game. My individual performance feels immutably tied
to the match’s outcome. But in a fighting game, I know the matches I do well in
and those I do poorly in and there is a direct correlation between my
performance and which player wins. Like I said before, that is just not true
for Heroes. The duality is off-putting:
how can I feel responsible for my team’s loss but also feel satisfaction that I
had my team’s best performance? The cognitive dissonance is the source of my
exhaustion and frustration.
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| It may not look like it, but we got absolutely massacred. None of the other stats matter, really. |
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