Passing the Wii Torch

I thought I knew how to play billiards and tennis (I actually played both in college), and as a once-ranked table tennis player I own two custom-made rackets. So when my twins demanded we play those games in a three-way, three game tournament on the Wii I figured I would have to take it easy on them.

What I found out is that playing the Wii with my kids is a humbling if enlightening experience.

My daughter, the billiards wizard, doesn’t aim or align her shots toward the pockets. She simply clobbers the given numbered ball with the cue ball, in proper sequential order, and four other balls go in at once, bouncing off the one she actually meant to hit. A game with her lasts three shots, tops, if she takes the break.

My son, the tennis wizard, will serve four consecutive aces every time and has a backhand return of serve that alternates between skimming each of corners where the baseline and sideline meet on your backcourt. If per chance you avoid his backhand on your serve, or actually hit a “steam ball” serve, he will not only return it with a forehand that has you chasing the ball off the court, but he will invariably have his net man clobber any return you might make completely out of your reach.

Ping-pong, which is what my kids call the august sport of table tennis, was reduced to how many times we could return the ball when playing the machine instead of each other. My daughter scores 100 returns regularly and my son reaches the upper eighties. I got to 43.

So, to salvage some dignity, I tried to explain the difference between real table tennis or pool or tennis and the Wii versions. I even went into the history and artfulness of each activity. But, even though they have played each real game or sport at some point, they were not buying that the real and electronic games were worlds apart. Instead, they began to give me pointers on how to play each electronic version—their generation’s alternate versions of each activity.

“See, if you hit the tennis ball by chopping your remote straight down you can make a hard, straight shot. But if you swing it like a real racquet the ball will get by you before you finish your swing,” advised my son. The premium was on the speed of your reflexes and the economy of your movement not on your positioning, the follow-through of your swing, or even your serve toss. Not quite the tennis I had learned.

“When you hit the cue ball, just hit it hard because the more other balls you hit the better the chances that one will go in. That’s just the way the game is set up. So, you can hit the balls in one at a time, carefully, or you can get a bunch in each time and be sure to win,” lectured my daughter. While she spoke my son just nodded reciprocating her previous nods when he had spoken.

If you want to catch an early glimpse of life’s torch passing between the generations watch an adult play a child at any Wii game. If you need further proof positive that each generation needs to put all things in its own terms (even things you may have long understood and for which you have had clear, sensible, and meaningful terms), just play Rayman Raving Rabbids 2 for a few minutes with your child.