Running for Raven Squad: How I Beat a Game on a Treadmill

My friend came up to visit me in New York last weekend, and although we explored the city, played basketball, and took touristy photos in Central Park, the two of us had something far more important to do: we needed to beat Raven Squad, one of the worst games I have ever had the pleasure of playing.

Jordan and I are both sadomasochists in that we love playing painfully bad video games. Both IGN and Game Informer gave Raven Squad a two out of ten, writing comments like "makes the original Doom look state-of-the-art" and "We played this game so you don't have to."

Apparently, this game's budget was spent bribing judges at E3.

Unfortunately, I am staying at Columbia University, and they have generously not provided me with access to a television.  All of the 'hall' common rooms in my building either consist of a table and a few chairs or are filled with immaculate but rarely used exercise equipment.  Meanwhile, the 'main' common area that allegedly covers the entire second floor is currently under construction.

With no televisions in my building, I decided to sneak my friend into Wien Hall. Wien Hall is where we East Campus residents do our laundry because our building's washing machines are (surprise!) currently under construction.

After wandering around Wien Hall for a few minutes, Jordan and I discovered some available televisions.  One of them had a broken power button, one sat inside a locked room, and the last one was at the end of a hall populated exclusively by underage girls attending some kind of educational summer camp.  As Jordan and I walked down their hall, a rapidly expanding group of minors (high school aged minors, to be fair) started opening their doors and giggling.  The sound was cacophonous, and it worsened when their forty year old camp counselor exited the men's restroom and started barreling towards us.  I turned to my friend.  "I think we're going to get arrested," I said.

After the counselor suggested we exit the premises before she called security, Jordan and I left without any complaints.  In doing so, we managed to avoid spending any time in jail.  So that was nice.

Math camp is all fun and games until a guy shows up.

Unfortunately, we still needed to find a television.  After checking three of the other dormitories, a sympathetic receptionist suggested Jordan and I visit Shapiro.  Shapiro, she informed us, is the only campus building that allows its residents to access the common area without first checking in with the security guard.  (To be fair, there is a sign on the door telling you that it's illegal to use the facilities if you don't live there—but if I'm paying Columbia the ridiculous sum that I am, in fact, paying, then I deserve a television.)  Upon arriving at Shapiro, Jordan discovered a television in the miniature gym. Just as immediately, however, we realized the gym was occupied.

At this point, the two of us had devoted no less than an hour of our time to the pursuit of video games.  We weren't about to give up.  So we returned to my room, tossed on some basketball shorts and white tees, and prepared to exercise.

Only two machines were available when we returned.  I went for the treadmill, planning on a light jog, but my plans changed once I realized the machine was broken.  Not wanting to look suspicious, I began to manually force the treads to spin.  I don't recommend this to anyone—my arms burned because I had to keep them so rigid, and my 'running' looked less like a jog and more like I was trying to overcome a limp in both of my legs.  Words don't do broken treadmill running justice; rest assured that I was dying. 

I was definitely in more pain than this guy.

After twenty minutes, an elliptical opened up and I pounced at the opportunity to use a machine that actually worked.  Twenty minutes later, when everyone had finished their workouts, Jordan set up Raven Squad. We finally started to play about half an hour past midnight.

Perhaps the security guards were particularly enthusiastic that night because they must have walked past the gym door once every fifteen minutes until we left.  To prevent them from coming in and asking what we were doing, my friend and I spent the next two hours lightly jogging as we spammed our way through godawful shooting sequences, unclear mission objectives, and racist voice-acting.  

Playing Raven Squad's while running on an elliptical brought me to a grand realization: video games plus exercise does not guarantee a good time.  Or a mediocre time.  Or any fun at all.  (I know, I know, the Wii was occasionally pretty awesome.  But let's be real: flicking your wrist while sitting on a couch equates to arthritis, not exercise.)

See? The exercise always stops when someone gets hurt!

In the end, I'm not sure whether this story was a triumph or a failure.  On the one hand, Jordan and I successfully infiltrated two buildings (out of five attempts),  and I exercised for about two and a half hours.  On the other hand, it's kind of sad we devoted an entire evening to finding a place to play video games when we were in New York, the largest city in the United States.

If I had to do it over again...I'd make Jordan take the broken treadmill.

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