Every now and again I see a picture of a gaming collection, a room that is floor to ceiling covered in boxes, discs, cartridges and cassettes. Some people have spent a large proportion of their lives building up massive collections of consoles, games and memorabilia. They buy all the special editions, the statues, the key rings, strategy guides, tie-in novels, t-shirts and art books. I envy these people. I would envy them even more if I had the space for such a collection. As it is I’ve barely got room for the three consoles on my TV shelf that I swear are elbowing each other for room whenever I’m not looking. Five years ago, after a family tragedy, I was forced to downside from a three bedroom house to a one bedroom flat, and the bin bags full of books, games, figures and DVDs that I had to donate and the pile of comics taller than me that I put in the bin broke my heart. Since then, I’ve tried not to collect. I buy digital books and if I wasn’t currently still sulking with DC Comics on a completely unrelated issue, I would be buying digital comics too. But games? While digital only games are reasonably priced, digital versions of retail games are still generally too pricey when compared to their boxed counterparts. The only way for me to keep control of my space problem and give my wallet a break is to trade in my completed physical games.
Knowing my previous tendency to hoard, the pain of giving it all away, my status as a single person in a posh flat with massive bills and an extremely small amount of left-over disposable income, trading games is a hard but necessary procedure. When I’m done with a game, it has to go. The chances I will play it again are tiny, my space precious, and the money and points I get in return vital to help keep my gaming addiction splendidly out of control.
When I see someone’s gaming exploits all lined up like a shelf full of memories, it does make me a little jealous and a little sad. It’s like having a trophy cabinet or a line of medals – look what I did, Mum! The PS4’s trophy system helps with these fleeting feelings of Gamers’ Melancholy. There’s my shelf full of memories and I got a shiny thing for every single one. I realise it’s very much a psychological thing. The Xbox Achievement system doesn’t appeal to me like PlayStation’s trophies because … they’re not trophies. I don’t care about points. I want the bling, little digital pictures of little digital trophies that feel more like a physical achievement and an easily accessible memory. I used to keep and collect to remember, and thanks to the trophy system, I can still do that without fear of it somehow being taken away (Unless Sony delete my account, in which case AAAAHHHHHHHHH).
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