Defining My Role Essay Example For Students

Defining My Role Essay If youre like me then you hate being told how to do something; especially if its something you are good at. Theres probably not a single person on this planet who enjoys being told in meticulous detail how to perform a task, and yet despite this there are so many people who are content to do just that. Well let me tell you something: you dont need to tell a surgeon how to fix internal organs, you dont need to tell a fireman which way water comes out of a hose, and when it comes to video games; you dont need to tell a field medic how to keep his team alive! My role in games is not particularly difficult. I focus on keeping my enemies in sight, and my allies in the fight. There are many different names for those who undertake this passive yet vitally important role, but there is one name that spans every genre of game, and every jargon of in-game vocabulary. I am a support, and while I prefer to maintain an air of modesty, I can say with great pride and confidence: â€Å"there is no one better to have at your back! † Yet despite the satisfaction I get from my role, it is not without its trials. The games I partake in are merciless, and a single accident could land you within the cold heartless void that is the respawn room. Naturally the average players will deflect their rage against the machine at players like myself, and honestly I do not blame them. After all my teammate is no longer alive, and it is my duty as a support to keep him alive. However as any support (myself included) will tell you: â€Å"if youre not helping the team, youre not worth helping. A cruel motto to be sure, but one that we must abide by lest we find ourselves lulled to the eternal slumber ourselves. By following this mindset you quickly learn to drown out the noise that is your teammates red hot aggression. If anything giving your teammates a source of anger ventilation is simply one more job on your ever growing list of duties. None the less it is all too possible for your allies to cross the line. For some its easier than others, but for me personally theres only one thing you could do. The game was going well enough. My team had suffered a few hiccups early on, but everyone was covering their losses and even making it up with interest in some cases, but after half an hour of reacting to the enemy, and no time spent calling the shots, my team was growing weary. A bad call was made, and my team and I fell victim to the enemies ingenious rouse. As a result we were all wiped out, and left with several seconds of lamenting over what we did, and what to do next. Our self-appointed play maker, whom had more or less been calling the shots up until this point suggested a passive approach. Spreading out and securing defensive positions to make up for lost time. I on the other hand had found a golden opportunity for an aggressive tactic that could turn the fight around. I suggested the strategy, but our â€Å"lead strategist† would have none of it. â€Å"You are just a support,† spatted the ignorant fool. â€Å"It is not your job to think, it is your job to listen and react. You just keep us alive and leave the rest to me. † Im not sure where this one sided mindset came from, but obviously I had better things to do than be strung around like a lapdog. I protested the statement of my companion to which he replied with three enraging, infuriating, inconceivable words: â€Å"Learn your role. † This was the final straw. There is nothing more disheartening to me then being told I dont know how to play the role I have spent my entire life pursuing. My whole body burned with irritation as if stung by the worlds largest wasp. I wanted to reach through my computer and drag this fool out by the other end. .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf , .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .postImageUrl , .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf , .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf:hover , .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf:visited , .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf:active { border:0!important; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf:active , .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u99b0bb67e2d1a8197a6d28d040be2eaf:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Deterioration of the american- EssayIn the span of a few seconds this had ceased to be the enjoyable challenge it had begun as, and in my eyes the one who slithered out those three pestilent words was no longer helping the team. After exchanging a few choice words with the jerk, the team as a whole fell silent. We didnt communicate, we didnt coordinate, and in the end there was no one I could help. Defeat swiftly followed. It was game over for us. Everyone has something theyre good at. It maybe a minor talent, or something they dedicate their life to, but no matter how minor the skill may be, no one should ever tell you youre not good at it.