I spent my youth haunting arcades and playing Street Fighter 2 against my friends. Now 29, I am left with great timing, excellent hand/eye coordination and slightly strained eyesight. Could I beat a world record-holder like Todd Rogers at his own game?

I needed to know — especially after The Lock-In.

A lock-in — part slumber party, part sporting event — consists of teenagers playing videogames all night long in a controlled environment like a game store or an arcade. The Friday night after Thanksgiving, my stomach still full of turkey and all the trimmings, I traveled to The D-Pad in Palm Harbor to attend a Halo 2 lock-in, a chance for fans of the game to play against their fellow enthusiasts.

As a relative novice at this game, I showed up an hour early to practice. I was surprised to find the place already packed. Pat from The D-Pad´s staff declared it a de facto early start, and quickly showed me to a couch crammed with kids plugged into X-Boxes and facing big-screen TVs.

I got comfortable and surveyed the room, figuring my deep knowledge of games would get me by. I´d played Halo 2 on several previous occasions, and played games like it all my life.

The kids at The D-Pad beat me inside and out.

Early on, my main nemesis was a kid named Erwin. Pale, lanky and an amazing player, Erwin won over and over again, apparently without any effort at all. (In fact, he seemed a little bored sometimes.) By contrast, I was insanely focused — and losing over and over again. By the time I took my first short break several hours later I had been shot, run through and splattered more times then I could count. It was humbling. Even the lone little girl in the room, known to me only as ¨a person¨ (as in, ¨Killed By a person,¨ a message I received often), whupped my ass. These kids were vicious.

Deep in the middle of the night, the lights were dimmed and people began to pass out on unoccupied couches and a stage used for the store´s open mic nights. The remaining players paid attention to nothing but the relentless ebb and flow of the game. I paused only to use the bathroom and have a short chat with moderator/den mother Katie, who supervised the whole affair. Mistick, Darkside and Pyro (all outstanding players, none yet old enough to vote) schooled me well past sun-up, and my complete beatdown continued to 8:30 a.m., when the lock-in ended before the final game did.

Although I easily made it through the evening without falling asleep, I must confess to using a performance-enhancing drug (Metabolife — Ephedra-free, of course). I had to do something to compete with the Yoo-Hoo and Red Bull-swilling kids and their speedy sugar and caffeine highs. I am simply no match for 13-year-olds on Red Bull. They can execute button combinations I can only dream of.

SiS

Todd Rogers specializes in button combinations no one can dream of. His website is www.beatthechamp.com, and for good reason: The man holds hundreds, maybe even thousands, of records in all kinds of games. My ego still bruised from my D-Pad experience, I suggested to Todd that we play some Super Mario Kart 64 against each other. I figured I needed redemption, and what better way to acquire it than by beating the champ?

I´ll admit I was sandbagging a bit. In the late ´90s I became fixated on Mario Kart, spending long hours learning every aspect of the game. As an old-school player, Todd is unbeatable at games like Pac Man and Space Invaders. Newer titles like Mario, however, give him a little more of a challenge. I felt like I could take him.

Fully aware of Todd´s reputation, I was not about to take him lightly. Our karts approached the starting line; I wished Todd luck. Then I proceeded to annihilate him as soundly as Erwin had crushed me at Halo 2. Seven games later, I was undefeated.

Afterwards, I was concerned that Todd would not take the whupping kindly. Earlier he had almost put me on the floor demonstrating a shoulder-pinch maneuver acquired while studying martial arts. Rather then resort to violence, though, Todd was a good sport about the drubbing. He praised my skills and even suggested I submit some times to Twin Galaxies (the Guinness of videogame scorekeepers).

Talk about restoring my ego. Wait until the kids at The D-Pad hear about this.

This article appears in Jan 5-11, 2005.