Cart: Gran Turismo Cab: PS1 / PS2 / PS3 Coin: Polyphony Digital
I love cars. Really, I do. The amount of grief I’ve had over the years from Mrs. Martin for all the petrol that’s been ‘wasted’ on fuel-guzzlers. I tell you: It’s a love affair of overdraftian proportions.
So it’s fair to say that I’m quite fond of the odd driving game. In fact, outside of story-driven games, they’re really the only type of game that I’ll play. So you’d think, perhaps, that what many regard as the pinnacle of the driving genre – the Gran Turismo series – would be the proverbial flame to my moth-like passion.
But it’s not.
I’ve tried. Really, I have. Yet ever time I play a Gran Turismo title (and I still give each and every one a chance), I’m left with one overriding feeling: boredom. Deeply ingrained, lump-in-your-throat, inescapable boredom.
The interminable loading screens; the tiresome and utterly soulless tinkering with settings and parts; the painfully slow slog to reach anything that’s remotely fun to drive; the obsession with repeating the same courses over and over again; the races so long and boring that the game even gives you the option of standing by and watching, football manager style; the blind obsession with every minutiae of every car as though they were some pseudo-porn-substitute; the physics model that’s so rigidly realistic that it’s only possible to enjoy it with a prohibitively expensive wheel and pedals set-up – and the near complete absence of online multi-player and realistic damage.
Seriously: to say I’d rather watch paint dry is an insult to paint.
And if I’d gone to the lengths that this dude has to enjoy the game, then, y’know, why not just get behind the wheel of a real machine?!