For the second straight year we've gotten a January surprise with regards to baseball video games. And for the second straight year, it only nominally keeps Xbox as a relevant platform for Major League Baseball fans.
Earlier this afternoon, 2K Sports' Ronnie Singh—Ronnie2K on Twitter—gave everyone playing NBA 2K14 a code for a special pre-game player animation as a make-good for the online troubles that paralyzed the game this weekend. Naturally, when I went to enter the code on my PlayStation 4, 2K's servers were down.
To a video gamer, the pairing was so natural that I didn't recognize how unusual it really was. On Oct. 12, ESPN broke up its top two announcing teams to put Brad Nessler and Kirk Herbstreit in the booth for the network's Texas A&M-Ole Miss nightcap. The two have, virtually anyway, worked millions of games together in…
Seven years ago, Hunter Hillenmeyer was signing autographs in a Jewel-Osco supermarket up in Fox Lake, Ill., the kind of ham-and-egg gig that any Chicago Bear could expect at some point in his career if he was any good. It wasn't anyone's idea of stressful work. Smile, pretend to be famous, collect your couple-three…
We've gone years without a proper update to NBA Live. This wasn't exactly worth the wait. Kotaku's Owen Good pegs Live 14 as unnecessarily complicated, difficult to learn, sub-par visually, and not a compelling alternative to NBA 2K14.
Heading into this console transition my opinion was that, of all the genres that could possibly sell a new Xbox or PlayStation, sports would come in last. Despite the richer visuals and refined experiences I've seen so far, that opinion still stands.
There's a ritual dedicated sports gamers go through with each new season. The excitement of peeling the shrinkwrap off the latest edition of NHL or NBA 2K quickly gives way to the realization that, once again, we're going to throw away our promising careers.
The end of Tiger Woods as the face of video game golf was set in motion years ago, and it had nothing to do with Perkins waitresses or a nine-iron through the rear windshield. It had nothing to do with a two-year winless streak or a drought, now spanning five years, without a major championship.
The score was 4 to 3, two outs in the ninth, when I woke up on the couch. No one was on base. "I don't need to see this," I said. "Nah, stick around," Dad said. I had two games that day, the World Series on TV, and Hardball! on my Commodore 64. If the Los Angeles Dodgers didn't win one, I'd make them win the other.
Wednesday night, he was having anxiety attacks over his designs for next year's game. Thursday afternoon, it didn't matter; his title was canceled. And ten minutes after showing up on Monday, he no longer had a job.
We'll soon learn which lone university will bail on EA Sports' college football video game, ending an 18-year run in which the series featured all of the more than 100 major-division teams every season—a bedrock expectation of any "it's in the game" claim.
Michael Vick may, for the rest of his life, remain a contemptible stereotype to much of the public: A brutal or stupid man. A laughingstock. A guy who did federal time. Still, there is one aspect of his football career that cleanly escapes the wreckage of his personal scandal, that lives on almost as a separate…
I move through the stages of difficulty in a sports video game like the stages of grief. Expert, Pro, Hard, Medium and Easy might as well be named Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. In the past, I've started somewhere between anger and depression before moving on to acceptance.
Two letters and a number. That's all you need to be a household name in college football—or its video game, at least. But this year, when NCAA Football 14 hits shelves on Tuesday, South Carolina's fearsome DE#7 and Texas A&M's do-it-all QB#2 will be joined, for the first time, by active players appearing under their…
Paul Goldschmidt fishes for the 1-1 slider way outside of the strike zone. He kicks dirt over the batter's box chalk, walks in a counterclockwise semicircle, fidgets with the brim of his helmet, and digs back in. Jon Garland rolls his shoulders and sweeps his foot twice over the pitching rubber. Now I may press X.
If it wasn't obvious at its launch in November, then this past week should have made it clear: The Wii U is functionally irrelevant to sports video games, and there is no reason for any sports fan to buy the console. The only question now is how much that will really matter to the fate of the machine.
In no rec league could I ever throw a no-hitter. Alone on a basketball court I'd need half an hour to score 69 points—and a trampoline to dunk. But I can do all of those things in my living room. If video games give us the conceit of doing the impossible, only now has one demonstrated how hard that really is.
If I learned anything this past week, it's that some people will find any context in which an ethnic slur is not an ethnic slur, or will find some justification for its use, from the name of a video game to that of a football team.
For many sports fans, a number is as identifiable as a name. Growing up far away from a professional team, those numbers didn't really imprint on me until I covered football for four years at college. Ever since, I remember uniform numerals not with a name, but as a name.
There's no formal dress code for Augusta National Golf Club as it appears in Tiger Woods PGA Tour 14, but all created golfers must wear the same thing when they play it this year. This is unintentional, but admittedly a goof-up, two of the game's designers told me on Friday.