As I made my way down to the hotel lobby for dinner, I was thinking about how I really didn’t want to go to this dinner. I’m not a social person, and meeting new people while having to be professional didn’t appeal to me on a good day, much less one where I had just spent most of the day working and then took a 4.5 hour plane trip. Nevertheless, I felt it was a good idea for me to be there. I was also concerned about my outfit as I hadn’t packed for being semi-professional for one day, much less two days and I was pretty sure my “roll off of the tarmac” shorts and t-shirt ensemble wasn’t up to the dress code of the restaurant. At least I had elected to leave the monkey t-shirt at home, all four of them. I was also hesitant because, honestly, I didn’t feel like I belonged to be there. Nothing against my talent, meager as it may be, but the game reviewing thing is strictly a side gig for me. I use the money I get for it to buy Transformers and video games. The other people attending this event do this for a living. Should I have been there? I was, so it’s not like I could have changed any thing at that point, but I wonder, if I were in their shoes, and someone like me rolled up, would it bother me or would I not care at all?

I wasn’t waiting in the lobby long before I realized that my dress wouldn’t be a problem as the rest of the gaming journalists filtered in all wearing some variation on my outfit. Geek wardrobe FTW. Introductions were made all around and while I was told the name of the outlets everyone worked for, for the life of me, I can’t remember them. You hear the six names, all with some variation of “game” in them within the span of thirty seconds and see how well you do.

Once everyone was rounded up we headed in for dinner. I sat between the lead designer of the game and an editor at Team Xbox and across from the event planner. It was, literally, the best seat at the table as to the right of me I had someone to talk to about making games, to the left of me was someone to talk to about writing about games and across from me was someone to talk to about the promotion of games. Unless Ken Levine was going to pour the wine, I don’t see how it could have gotten better. It was a very fun evening with lots of good conversations. The event planner and the guy from Team Xbox were both big wine fans so they had lots of stories about wine and California which were surprisingly entertaining. I got in some really good discussions about GTA IV with the lead designer of the game. The wine was good and the food was good, although expensive. I would not be surprised if the bill for the meal was over a thousand bucks.

Now, a thousand bucks is an extreme amount of money for a meal, even a meal with 12 people present, and certainly with game developers and publisher grousing on how expensive it is to make games, it doesn’t make sense to drop that kind of cash on dinner, but in the grand scheme of things, that dinner, hell the cost of the whole event is a drop in the bucket. The original Saints Row sold around 2 million copies. If we’re conservative and say that only the first million copies were at full price, and retailers buy the game from the publisher at 50 bucks a pop, that’s 50 million bucks. If the game cost 10 million to make and promote, you’re 40 million in the black before you start tallying up sales for the second million copies. Even if the entire event cost $100k to put on, it’s such a small percentage of what they will probably bring in for Saints Row 2 that it doesn’t mean anything.

After dinner, folks were going about their evening in Las Vegas, and me being the type of guy who never shied away from wasting his money, I proceeded to get killed by the slot machines, thereby erasing any hope of making this an even remotely profitable trip.

The next day was game day. They dropped the 360 HD off in the room around 10:30 and I started to play the game. At this point, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to have happen. On the one hand, if the game was bad, I could prove to myself that these people could buy me all the steak in the world and it wouldn’t prevent me from writing my honest opinion. On the other hand, the guy I had just spent the last evening talking to was very nice and this game represented his and his team’s life for the past two years. Why would I want it to fail? This was exactly the problem I was worried about. My responsibility to the reader has to win out every time, but if the game sucked, what would I do at that evening’s co-op event? Smile politely, say something nice about it and then trash it in the preview? Be honest but make everything awkward? The mind reeled.

Once I got into the game though, I realized that my worries were unfounded. The game was very fun and offered an open world experience that was a lot different than the one provided in GTA IV. There was a distinct lack of focus, unlike in GTA IV, which I’m sure many people will find liberating even if I was somewhat put off by it due to my OCD like tendencies. Graphically it looked good, and the sound was great. It was a game that I wanted to keep playing once it got time to shut the console down and prepare for the evening’s event.

Unfortunately, by the time I got to the co-op event, I was so burnt out on playing games all day that the last thing I wanted to do was play more games. I endured though and managed to get some co-op rounds in. The evening’s event was interesting in that I could hear about everyone else’s experiences with the game, and how different they were from my own. We all had similar likes and dislikes, and I remember one guy, the guy from Gamespot, saying that he kept comparing it to GTA IV in his head. My reply was that you almost have to, because when people are making their decision to buy it, that comparison will probably be the foremost thought in their heads. Everyone seemed to like it, or was just really good about faking it.

I spent most of the night watching people play co-op and talking to the PR guy from THQ about his views on the industry and gaming in general. Once I had time, I spent about 25 minutes interviewing the guy from Volition, showing off not only my shiny, new voice recorder, but my inept interview skills. Listening to myself ask questions while transcribing the interview later on was an exercise in torture. I’m going to blame it on the alcohol. I thought it was odd that only myself and one other writer took the opportunity to interview the Volition guy. The other guy was also a freelancer, so I wonder if he too was told that he could get extra cash for an interview piece. I would think that everyone would want some time with the developer, if only to get some quotes to spice up their pieces, but that’s where I would be wrong. I can only assume that spending eight hours playing a game was more than enough material, and if most of them do this full time, and get paid salary, why put in the extra work?

Once the event was over, I was pretty much wiped out. Thankfully the THQ guy told us all that there was an embargo on the preview pieces that wouldn’t expire for a week, so that meant that I didn’t have to go back to the hotel and try and churn out a coherent piece. I was bummed out that I couldn’t go out with everyone else, but I was tired, it was late and I had to get up early in the morning. Game, set and as they say, match.

The next morning, I got up, waited in the lobby with a fellow writer while trying to get my driver on the phone and then rode to the airport with the writer from Gamespot. We had a really interesting talk in the car about how Gamespot reviews games, and about how they had just given Mercenaries 2 a pretty low score. I’m sure it was pretty boring for him, but for someone like me, a gamer who occasionally reviews games, it was fascinating. Once we got to the airport, I gave him a business card and we went our separate ways.

I’m glad I went on the trip, even if staying at home would have made better economic sense. Everyone I met was very nice and I got two good pieces out of the experience, one of which is here and one is here. The talks I had, both about making games and about reviewing games were very interesting, and not ones I could have had any place else. Even upon finding out that this writing for me was just a side gig people were real supportive and in no way made me feel like a second class citizen. Still, it was nice to take that plane ride home, even if sitting right on the wing made it so that I had to shove my earbuds deep within my auditory canals to hear The Untouchables on my PSP.

In October I’ll be reviewing the game, which means that I’ll have to start from scratch and do a lot of those eight hours all over again. A bummer, certainly, but at the same time, there’s so much to do in the game, I can take a different route and most of the stuff will be different. It will be interesting to see if my final opinion matches up with the preview opinion now that the glow of free food and drinks has worn off. If I don’t like the game, will thoughts of those I met come to my head as I’m writing some snark filled review? Maybe, but probably not. After all, I’ve been working for commercial software places for ten years now, and I know that there are a myriad of decisions that go into putting out a crappy product, many of them completely removed from the hands of those in charge of making said product, and that hasn’t stopped me yet. No reason to let a 50 buck steak do so now.

Shortly after agreeing to go on the trip, and getting all of my travel arranged, I realized that I had a big, nay huge problem, namely that the event was taking place on the same day that the Redskins kicked off the ’08 – ’09 football season. I am many things, but first on the list is a Redskins fan. I bleed burgundy and gold, so the notion of not wearing my Redskins jersey on that Thursday, even if said apparel didn’t fit whatever dress code would be expected of me. I brought this concern up with my editor, and he said not to worry, just explain the situation, show off my tattoos (for some reason it intrigues him that I have four tattoos), show my business card and all would be ok. First, I don’t know why my tattoos would make a difference. Perhaps the PR people would assume that if they didn’t assent to my wardrobe I’d stab them in some sort of biker rage. I don’t know. Second, wait, what? Business cards?

My editor then explained to me that I’d need business cards because otherwise I’d look like a dork. No, my four superhero tattoos wouldn’t do that, but not having a business card sure would. Right. Not being one to go against the wishes of the guy who doles out my assignments, I set about designing my cards. I did a halfway decent job and in an act that can only be attributed to nervousness, I ordered 200 of them. Now, to my credit, I paid extra to get cards made from 100% recycled paper feeling that the notion of me buying business cards for one event was patently stupid so there was no need to get trees killed for my stupidity. Why I bought 200 of them I still don’t know. Oh sure, I’d love to be able to go out to more of these events, but so many of them that I’d need 200 cards? Highly doubtful.

He also told me that I’d need a voice recorder. Well, I didn’t technically need one, but seeing how there would be developers there, and maybe I could get them to talk to me, a voice recorder would make things much easier on me. He also told me that if I got enough time with a developer that he’d pay me for the preview piece and an interview. Now, I don’t want to tell tales out of school, but let’s just say that I don’t get paid a whole bunch for these pieces. It’s more than I’ve been offered at other places, but far less than I probably could get paid if I actually put some hustle behind this gig. Without getting into numbers, even though I’d be paid for a second piece, any decent voice recorder would balance out what I’d get paid for the interview. Sure enough, the one that I ended up buying was even more than what I’d get paid, but I figured that this was a chance to a) ask some good questions about making games and b) it would be yet another piece to add to my growing collection. Plus, I can use the voice recorder for podcasting, which could potentially get me paid more, so I figured that the voice recorder, unlike the business cards, was a sound investment. Worse comes to worse, I can use it to blackmail people at work.

So, armed with my buttload of business cards and my shiny new voice recorder, I headed off to Vegas. While waiting for my plane, I met a guy going to Vegas for a legal insurance conference. When I told him why I was going, he thought it was pretty damn cool, which, honestly, up until that point, I hadn’t. I’m under no illusion that I’m some font of gaming knowledge, and that my opinion is the definitive word on games. I’m a guy who got lucky enough to find out about a job posting, and who was competent enough to put some work together to impress those that needed impressing. Having an editor willing to take a chance on a complete newbie certainly helped. I like to say that reviewing games is fun up until you have to review a bad one. Truth is, it’s not that much fun when reviewing good games either. Oh sure, occasionally you’ll play something fun that you never would have played, or expected to be good (Crash of the Titans comes to mind), but any time you have to do something under a deadline, it ceases to be fun. But, I love games, and I love writing, so as much as I like to complain about having to review some crappy DS movie tie-in game, it’s totally worth it. After talking to this guy though, it hit me. I was being paid, albeit a modest amount, to go to Las Vegas and sit in a beautiful hotel room and play video games all day long. It was, in fact, pretty damn cool.

The flight was uneventful, and I passed most of the time watching Escape from New York on my PSP (again with the games). I was picked up by my driver Dale, who also thought that my reason for being in Vegas was pretty damn cool and proceeded to tell me that his son absolutely loved Rock Band. Dale’s son, as it turns out, had great taste in games. Upon dropping me off at my hotel, he asked me what site I wrote for and as a result, Dale became my first official recipient of my business card. Not exactly how I planned on things going down in that regard, but if it gets another reader to the site, then who am I to judge?

After getting to my room, which was gorgeous, by the way, I unpacked, cleaned up and headed to the lobby to meet the other writers and the PR guy and the developer for dinner. I had officially arrived in Vegas and was ready to be plied with food, booze and whatever other earthly delights they could come up with to secure my favor. Who needs integrity when there’s steak on the menu?

Tomorrow, comes Part 3, the final part: Twelve Hours of Gaming and I Don’t Even Get a Lousy T-Shirt

But I digress. Last week I was invited to go to Las Vegas to play the upcoming open world gang masterpiece Saints Row 2 for a full day and I figured I’d share my experiences. As a gamer, I’ve always wondered what these big preview events are all about, and I imagine other gamers are similarly curious so here we are. I’d like to say that it was a non-stop tour of PR funded debauchery but it’s far, far less interesting. Onwards!

When the trip was first offered to all of the writers, my initial response was “Woo-hoo! Free trip to Vegas!” Why this was my first thought, I have no idea. I don’t even like Vegas. I am a horribly unlucky gambler capable of losing money faster than you can flush it down the toilet. I don’t like the heat, I don’t go to strip clubs, I’m not about to pay nineteen bucks for a watered down martini and the game I’d be previewing was a sequel to something I never played in the first place. On paper, there was no reason for me to go other than to get the experience and to continue my trend of being as open to assignments as possible. I mentioned it to my wife and she said I should go. Honestly, leaving her behind with our two young, rambunctious children was my primary concern, given that I’d be going for something as silly as playing a video game, so when she said I should go, I figured that I should go. I’ve done quite well by listening to my wife so far. No reason to stop now.

So I offered to go and due to a fellow writer’s Canadian passport problems (oh Office of Homeland Security, what horrors you have wrought!) I was given the chance. Once the initial feelings of “yay, I’m going to Vegas” wore off, I started to feel somewhat bad about the whole thing. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the video game journalism business is seen as fairly corrupt. Big name publishers pay for ad space, or to send writers to lavish events and as a result end up “buying” positive coverage of games that really don’t deserve it. As a gamer, I always thought that these events were pretty low class, but here I was, slavering at the chance to go to one like I’d never been on a plane, or had a meal purchased for me. Shouldn’t I refuse to go, opting instead to maintain my journalistic integrity? Did I even have journalistic integrity? I’m just a reviewer, it’s not like I’m ever in a situation to cover up some massive scheme to defraud the American public. I play games called “Time Ace” and then tell people how crappy they are. In the end, I figured that if my editor wanted someone to go, he wasn’t concerned about how it appeared for the site, and if he wasn’t concerned, then I shouldn’t be either. And so I wasn’t, that is until the details came out.

First, I found out that they were putting me up at the Four Seasons in Las Vegas. This ain’t no Holiday Inn. The Four Seasons doesn’t have it’s own physical building in Vegas, it’s the top four floors of the Mandalay Bay Casino. That right there should give you an idea as to how nice the place is and the level of expense. Plus, it’s the fraking Four Seasons. The plan was that they’d fly me in on Wednesday, put me up at the hotel Wednesday night, bring the console to my room on Thursday so that I could play the game on Thursday and then we’d have a co-op event in the penthouse suite (again, expensive) on Thursday night and then I’d fly home on Friday. When I was booking my travel, the travel agent said they’d get me a car service as well. The airport in Vegas is about five minutes away from the strip, and as it turned out, I could see it from my hotel room and could have walked there if I didn’t mind being crushed by the occasional jet landing. The idea of having a car service for such a short distance when undoubtedly the hotel would have a shuttle seemed absurd and a waste of money, but not wanting to raise a fuss I said “Er, OK” and that was that. Car service it would be.

Again the feelings that I was whoring myself out came out. This was an expensive hotel! There’s a car service! They’re spending a lot of money on my stupid ass! To an outside observer, would it look as badly as I thought it did, that I was essentially, being bought? Maybe. Maybe not. I have no idea. My coworkers, many of whom are gamers, thought that it was pretty cool and didn’t give a damn about integrity, probably because they think I never had any in the first place, or they don’t read the site I write for. Again, I figured that if my editor was OK with it, I should be as well. Plus, this was my chance to show myself that I don’t give a damn about fancy hotels and nice dinners. I was going to play the game and when the time came to write the piece, if the game was a piece of crap, then it’s a piece of crap and I’d call it like I see it. I’d be the most integrity laden motherfraker that ever put words to paper. They’d see! They can’t buy me! Not this guy!

With that, my travel was arranged, my itinerary was set and I was ready to go.

Or so I thought.

Tomorrow, comes Part 2: Voice Recorders and Business Cards and Expensive Steaks, Oh My!