Sunday, August 30, 2009
We've moved to: www.prolixwag.com
The Prolix Wag has moved permanently to:
www.prolixwag.com
That is all.
-- The PW
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wag at Work
The Wag is busy wrestling with WordPress to bring you a New and Improved Prolix Wag. The new site should be good to go in a few days. Until then, take this opportunity to re-read my some of my previous jewels of wisdom; odds are you've forgotten the valuable lessons contained therein already.
-- The Prolix Wag
I'll give you a hint: WordPress is the guy in red.
I'll give you a hint: WordPress is the guy in red.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
A Football Primer, Part 3: Know Thine Offense
Part 1: Your Sports All Suck is here.
Part 2: The Basics is here.
Football has perhaps the most specialized positions of any sport this side of Synchronized Assembly Line Carmaking. Positions are specialized to the point where players in different positions have vastly different physiques.
Part 2: The Basics is here.
Football has perhaps the most specialized positions of any sport this side of Synchronized Assembly Line Carmaking. Positions are specialized to the point where players in different positions have vastly different physiques.
For example, the player on the far left is a Wide Receiver. The player next to him is a Linebacker. The player on the right is a Quarterback. The player in the middle is a total lardass.
Before we get into the specific positions, a quick word about football strategy. We'll get further in depth on this at another time, but for now you need to know the following:
The offense can move the ball by running with it or passing it. Defending against one is very different from the other, and much of football strategy revolves around fooling the defense into defending one while you do the other.
And now, the positions:
Note that while the players will line up in many different formations (the above is called an "I formation" because the QB, FB and HB make an "I") and sets (for example, replacing the TE and FB with Wide Receivers), their relative positions are usually pretty close to the above.
The Quarterback
The quarterback is the offense's leader on the field, the one who communicates the plays from the coach to the rest of the team and calls out the snap count that tells the Center when to hike the ball. They have to be smart, poised, and able to throw the ball really far and really accurately. Being able to run around some (being a "mobile quarterback") is useful, but not strictly necessary. QBs are tall, handsome, usually somewhat bland pretty boys who tend to scream "Not in the face!" a lot. They are also better paid than everyone else on the team, and the offense is crippled without a good one. In D&D terms, they are Human Warlords.
The Runningback
The runningback (technically the halfback, but nobody calls them that) is the primary guy who runs the ball. Most running plays will involve the quarterback handing the ball to this guy, who then plows ahead for three to four yards. They're also used as short-yardage pass receivers and extra blockers (to protect the QB) on pass plays. RBs are fast, short, and powerful, and tend to be the ones you can win on Madden with all the time just by picking Clinton Portis and hitting the A button repeatedly. They tend to like hitting people with their bodies, even when those people are bigger than them. In D&D terms, they are Half-Orc Barbarians.
The Fullback
The fullback is a big, powerful running player whose primary duty is usually to punch open holes for the runningback. Occasionally, they will catch a pass, just to fake everybody out. The are big, thundering running machines who like to take care of the smaller RB and QB. In D&D terms, FBs are Sweetums from the Muppets.
The Wide Receiver
Wide receivers are the primary receivers on passing plays, although they may throw a block every now and then if they think they won't break a nail. They are incredibly fast, self-centered showboats who think that every ball should be thrown to them. In D&D terms, they are snooty dual-wielding Elf Rangers who think they can do anything, and sometimes in fact do something pretty spectacular, but usually just whine about how they're not getting hasted by the party's wizard enough.
And there isn't a Wide Receiver in the league who wouldn't legally change his name to "Ithandir, Blade of Eternity" if he thought he could get away with it.
The Tight End
The tight end is a mix between a receiver and a blocker, although the second and third tight ends are usually just blockers they bring in on running plays who may catch a pass, but only if God demands it outright, in tripilicate. They are big, but fast and athletic, and have good hands. In D&D terms, they are multiclassed Goliath Fighter/Barbarians.
The Offensive Line
The offensive line -- made up of the center, the offensive tackles, and the offensive guards -- is the rolling wall of living flesh that protects the quarterback and opens up holes for the running backs to run through. On running plays, you'll see them trying to push the defensive linemen forward. On passing plays, you'll see them giving ground as slowly as possible to protect the quarterback. They are huge, and they pretty much never touch the ball on purpose. They are made for one purpose and one purpose alone: to pull aggro. Unlike defensive linemen, however, offensive linemen have to be smart, as there are often intricate blocking schemes they have to learn and change on the fly.
The center has the additional responsibility of hiking - passing or handing - the ball to the quarterback or punter on every play. He then immediately gets his face smashed in just like all the other linemen. This is difficult, especially on long snaps. The center is often the leader of the line -- he's the guy you see pointing at different defensive linemen and saying things like "Right Tackle -- sic balls!" before every play.
In D&D terms, the offensive line are Hyperintelligent Armored Hippos who have learned to wield axes and taken up the class of Fighter. The center is the same, only he's a Paladin.
Next Time: The Defense and Special Teams
The offense can move the ball by running with it or passing it. Defending against one is very different from the other, and much of football strategy revolves around fooling the defense into defending one while you do the other.
And now, the positions:
Note that while the players will line up in many different formations (the above is called an "I formation" because the QB, FB and HB make an "I") and sets (for example, replacing the TE and FB with Wide Receivers), their relative positions are usually pretty close to the above.
The Quarterback
The quarterback is the offense's leader on the field, the one who communicates the plays from the coach to the rest of the team and calls out the snap count that tells the Center when to hike the ball. They have to be smart, poised, and able to throw the ball really far and really accurately. Being able to run around some (being a "mobile quarterback") is useful, but not strictly necessary. QBs are tall, handsome, usually somewhat bland pretty boys who tend to scream "Not in the face!" a lot. They are also better paid than everyone else on the team, and the offense is crippled without a good one. In D&D terms, they are Human Warlords.
The Runningback
The runningback (technically the halfback, but nobody calls them that) is the primary guy who runs the ball. Most running plays will involve the quarterback handing the ball to this guy, who then plows ahead for three to four yards. They're also used as short-yardage pass receivers and extra blockers (to protect the QB) on pass plays. RBs are fast, short, and powerful, and tend to be the ones you can win on Madden with all the time just by picking Clinton Portis and hitting the A button repeatedly. They tend to like hitting people with their bodies, even when those people are bigger than them. In D&D terms, they are Half-Orc Barbarians.
The Fullback
The fullback is a big, powerful running player whose primary duty is usually to punch open holes for the runningback. Occasionally, they will catch a pass, just to fake everybody out. The are big, thundering running machines who like to take care of the smaller RB and QB. In D&D terms, FBs are Sweetums from the Muppets.
The Wide Receiver
Wide receivers are the primary receivers on passing plays, although they may throw a block every now and then if they think they won't break a nail. They are incredibly fast, self-centered showboats who think that every ball should be thrown to them. In D&D terms, they are snooty dual-wielding Elf Rangers who think they can do anything, and sometimes in fact do something pretty spectacular, but usually just whine about how they're not getting hasted by the party's wizard enough.
And there isn't a Wide Receiver in the league who wouldn't legally change his name to "Ithandir, Blade of Eternity" if he thought he could get away with it.
The Tight End
The tight end is a mix between a receiver and a blocker, although the second and third tight ends are usually just blockers they bring in on running plays who may catch a pass, but only if God demands it outright, in tripilicate. They are big, but fast and athletic, and have good hands. In D&D terms, they are multiclassed Goliath Fighter/Barbarians.
The Offensive Line
The offensive line -- made up of the center, the offensive tackles, and the offensive guards -- is the rolling wall of living flesh that protects the quarterback and opens up holes for the running backs to run through. On running plays, you'll see them trying to push the defensive linemen forward. On passing plays, you'll see them giving ground as slowly as possible to protect the quarterback. They are huge, and they pretty much never touch the ball on purpose. They are made for one purpose and one purpose alone: to pull aggro. Unlike defensive linemen, however, offensive linemen have to be smart, as there are often intricate blocking schemes they have to learn and change on the fly.
The center has the additional responsibility of hiking - passing or handing - the ball to the quarterback or punter on every play. He then immediately gets his face smashed in just like all the other linemen. This is difficult, especially on long snaps. The center is often the leader of the line -- he's the guy you see pointing at different defensive linemen and saying things like "Right Tackle -- sic balls!" before every play.
In D&D terms, the offensive line are Hyperintelligent Armored Hippos who have learned to wield axes and taken up the class of Fighter. The center is the same, only he's a Paladin.
Next Time: The Defense and Special Teams
-- The Prolix Wag
Ask any offensive lineman; he'll tell you the same thing.
Ask any offensive lineman; he'll tell you the same thing.
Labels:
Blood Bowl,
Dungeons and Dragons,
Football,
gaming
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
A Football Primer, Part 2: The Basics
Part 1: Your Sports All Suck is here.
Before we start loving football, we have to know it. This will be a review for many of you, but there will be funny pictures later proving that football is totally not gay, so read on for that if nothing else.
Football is complicated, but this is what makes it fun to watch. So pay attention.
Football is played on a field like this:
Although regulation fields tend to be both larger and more grassy. The field is laid out with two endzones, one on either end, with a 100-yard-long field in between. As you can see, the field is marked out in ten-yard increments. This will be important later.
A game of football is played in a series of setpiece plays called downs, with specialized teams of eleven men on a side. One side plays offense (they have the ball) while the other plays defense. Whenever the ball changes possession, they switch sides. There's also a thing called special teams, but we'll get to that in a moment.
The winner of a football game is determined by who scores the most points. There are four ways to score points:
A touchdown is when a player (on either offense, defense or special teams) is in possession of the ball inside their opponent's endzone. This can be accomplished by running into the endzone with the ball, or catching the ball in the endzone.
A touchdown is worth 6 points.
A field goal is when the offense kicks the ball between the uprights of the goal post (the big yellow letter Y) situated at the end of each endzone. It is significantly easier to score a field goal than a touchdown.
A field goal is worth 3 points.
A safety occurs when a player on the offense in possession of the ball is tackled in his own endzone. Safeties are very rare, and it means the defense is doing a hell of a job.
A safety is worth 2 points.
Finally, after every touchdown, the offense has the choice of going for an extra point or a two-point conversion.
An extra point is a super-easy short field goal. They are only worth 1 point, but are pretty much a gimme.
A two-point conversion is an "easy" short touchdown attempt. They are much harder than extra points. Worth 2 points. Hence the name.
Pro teams almost never "go for 2" unless there is a mathematical reason they either NEED 2 points or have nothing to gain by only getting 1. Or they want to really embarrass the other team. Neither of which happens very often.
Hence, touchdowns are really worth 7 points.
So a field goal is worth just less than half of a touchdown, practically speaking. This is why you will hear announcers talk about teams "settling for a field goal" instead of "going for the touchdown".
Now, as I mentioned earlier, football is played in a series of setpiece plays, or downs. Each down is a chance to move the ball closer to your opponent's endzone from the line of scrimmage, which is an imaginary line across the field where the ball starts each play, which divides the offense from the defense until the play starts.
The offense starts with four downs. Each time they move the ball ten yards forward from the original line of scrimmage, they get another four downs. This is called a first down. You can tell when a player does this because of the cool imaginary yellow line the TV people draw for us.
Each down is called by it's number, and the number of yards the ball has to go to get a first down.
1st and 10 is what starts every new set of downs.
2nd and 5 is what you get after a good running play on 1st down.
3rd and 20 means your quarterback is about to get killed.
Before we start loving football, we have to know it. This will be a review for many of you, but there will be funny pictures later proving that football is totally not gay, so read on for that if nothing else.
Football is complicated, but this is what makes it fun to watch. So pay attention.
Football is played on a field like this:
Although regulation fields tend to be both larger and more grassy. The field is laid out with two endzones, one on either end, with a 100-yard-long field in between. As you can see, the field is marked out in ten-yard increments. This will be important later.
A game of football is played in a series of setpiece plays called downs, with specialized teams of eleven men on a side. One side plays offense (they have the ball) while the other plays defense. Whenever the ball changes possession, they switch sides. There's also a thing called special teams, but we'll get to that in a moment.
The winner of a football game is determined by who scores the most points. There are four ways to score points:
A touchdown is when a player (on either offense, defense or special teams) is in possession of the ball inside their opponent's endzone. This can be accomplished by running into the endzone with the ball, or catching the ball in the endzone.
The signal for "touchdown". If the ref does this, you go "YAY!" or "FUCKING COWBOYS! GODAMNIT!!!", depending.
A touchdown is worth 6 points.
A field goal is when the offense kicks the ball between the uprights of the goal post (the big yellow letter Y) situated at the end of each endzone. It is significantly easier to score a field goal than a touchdown.
A field goal is worth 3 points.
A safety occurs when a player on the offense in possession of the ball is tackled in his own endzone. Safeties are very rare, and it means the defense is doing a hell of a job.
A safety is worth 2 points.
Finally, after every touchdown, the offense has the choice of going for an extra point or a two-point conversion.
An extra point is a super-easy short field goal. They are only worth 1 point, but are pretty much a gimme.
A two-point conversion is an "easy" short touchdown attempt. They are much harder than extra points. Worth 2 points. Hence the name.
Pro teams almost never "go for 2" unless there is a mathematical reason they either NEED 2 points or have nothing to gain by only getting 1. Or they want to really embarrass the other team. Neither of which happens very often.
Hence, touchdowns are really worth 7 points.
So a field goal is worth just less than half of a touchdown, practically speaking. This is why you will hear announcers talk about teams "settling for a field goal" instead of "going for the touchdown".
Now, as I mentioned earlier, football is played in a series of setpiece plays, or downs. Each down is a chance to move the ball closer to your opponent's endzone from the line of scrimmage, which is an imaginary line across the field where the ball starts each play, which divides the offense from the defense until the play starts.
The offense starts with four downs. Each time they move the ball ten yards forward from the original line of scrimmage, they get another four downs. This is called a first down. You can tell when a player does this because of the cool imaginary yellow line the TV people draw for us.
Fun Fact: It's considered perfectly normal to tease the noobs by telling them they have a team of specially trained technicians erase the old line and paint a new one every play. Welcome to the club.
Each down is called by it's number, and the number of yards the ball has to go to get a first down.
1st and 10 is what starts every new set of downs.
2nd and 5 is what you get after a good running play on 1st down.
3rd and 20 means your quarterback is about to get killed.
Kinda like this. He's under there somewhere. NB: This is TOTALLY NOT GAY.
Note that while the offense has four downs to get the ball ten yards, they really only have three (usually). This is because, if they fail to convert on fourth down, the other team gets the ball wherever it was. This is where special teams come in.
The offense has the option of kicking a field goal or punting the ball on any down, although they normally only do either on 4th down. Kicking a field goal gets you 3 points. Punting (which involves drop-kicking the ball instead of place-kicking it, as a field goal does) lets you (hopefully) kick the ball way the hell into your opponent's territory, so their offense will have a much harder time.
On both punts and kickoffs -- a place-kick where one team gives the ball away to the other, both at the start of each half and after each score -- the receiving team has a chance to return the ball. That is to say, one guy catches the ball and runs like hell, while everyone else on the other team tries to take his head off. They are not called "special teams" because what they do is special or rare. They are called "special" because they are frickin' suicidal, on both sides of the ball.
The Wag hopes this has been edifying, and that the accompanying images have proven beyond a reasonable doubt that football is not gay.
Next time: Can't Tell Your Players Without a Program, or Why They Always Make Fun of Punters.
The offense has the option of kicking a field goal or punting the ball on any down, although they normally only do either on 4th down. Kicking a field goal gets you 3 points. Punting (which involves drop-kicking the ball instead of place-kicking it, as a field goal does) lets you (hopefully) kick the ball way the hell into your opponent's territory, so their offense will have a much harder time.
On both punts and kickoffs -- a place-kick where one team gives the ball away to the other, both at the start of each half and after each score -- the receiving team has a chance to return the ball. That is to say, one guy catches the ball and runs like hell, while everyone else on the other team tries to take his head off. They are not called "special teams" because what they do is special or rare. They are called "special" because they are frickin' suicidal, on both sides of the ball.
The Wag hopes this has been edifying, and that the accompanying images have proven beyond a reasonable doubt that football is not gay.
See? TOTALLY not gay. Except in the lesbian way. If football players were hot lipstick lesbians in pads instead of three-hundred pound hunks of glorious, thundering man-meat.
Okay, it may be kinda gay.
Okay, it may be kinda gay.
Next time: Can't Tell Your Players Without a Program, or Why They Always Make Fun of Punters.
-- The Prolix Wag
The trademark is pending on "hunk of glorious, thundering man-meat", so don't even think about it.
The trademark is pending on "hunk of glorious, thundering man-meat", so don't even think about it.
Monday, August 24, 2009
A Football Primer, Part 1: Your Sports All Suck
Football season is almost upon us, and as per usual, my heart breaks at the thought that there are still benighted souls out there who don't partake of fandom for The Most Telegenic of Sports. It's understandable, really; Football is a complicated sport, with a steep learning curve once you get past the why-are-those-guys-wearing-tights phase. But it's an incredibly rewarding sport to watch and fanicate to.
So why football over other sports?
Soccer is the most enjoyable sport to watch live, with a wonderful mix of pacing, drama and athleticism. It's more fun to watch live than football is. If you go to a pro football game, you'll be astonished at the sheer speed and level of athleticism -- TV really doesn't do justice to how fast these guys go and how hard they hit -- but it's incredibly hard to actually follow the game without superimposed yellow down lines and commentators with Xs and Os telling you why the home team needs to give the corner some safety help, for the love of god. Soccer, on the other hand, has a big white ball that's easy to follow, slow-developing but dynamic plays, and guys in shorts with great legs for those that go in for such things.
On TV, alas, it is incredibly boring. I'm not quite sure why.
Hockey is just like soccer, but it's colder, you can't see the ball, and instead of grabbing their shins and singing a brief number from Il Pagliaccio whenever another player runs into them, they just punch each other.
Boxing is hockey without the skating.
Mixed Martial Arts is boxing, but sweatier and with repeated nad-punching. Also, homoerotic as hell.
Baseball is an actuarial exercise cleverly disguised as a sport. They also sell hot dogs at the games, so there's that.
Basketball apparently involves some strategy. Apparently.
Women's Volleyball is awesome, but only available in significant quantities during the Olympics.
Curling has the same problem as women's volleyball, plus you won't be able to explain to yourself why it's so damn compelling.
Golf has the why-the-hell-am-I-loving-this factor, at least on TV. There's a pretty healthy why-the-hell-am-I-doing-this factor if you ever actually play it, too.
NASCAR will remain deadly boring until they start mounting chainguns on the cars. This is just a fact of life.
So why football over other sports?
Soccer is the most enjoyable sport to watch live, with a wonderful mix of pacing, drama and athleticism. It's more fun to watch live than football is. If you go to a pro football game, you'll be astonished at the sheer speed and level of athleticism -- TV really doesn't do justice to how fast these guys go and how hard they hit -- but it's incredibly hard to actually follow the game without superimposed yellow down lines and commentators with Xs and Os telling you why the home team needs to give the corner some safety help, for the love of god. Soccer, on the other hand, has a big white ball that's easy to follow, slow-developing but dynamic plays, and guys in shorts with great legs for those that go in for such things.
On TV, alas, it is incredibly boring. I'm not quite sure why.
Hockey is just like soccer, but it's colder, you can't see the ball, and instead of grabbing their shins and singing a brief number from Il Pagliaccio whenever another player runs into them, they just punch each other.
Boxing is hockey without the skating.
Mixed Martial Arts is boxing, but sweatier and with repeated nad-punching. Also, homoerotic as hell.
Baseball is an actuarial exercise cleverly disguised as a sport. They also sell hot dogs at the games, so there's that.
Never got over the thrill of being on Math Team? Lack the imagination for D&D? Then by god, have I got a sport for you.
Basketball apparently involves some strategy. Apparently.
Women's Volleyball is awesome, but only available in significant quantities during the Olympics.
Curling has the same problem as women's volleyball, plus you won't be able to explain to yourself why it's so damn compelling.
Golf has the why-the-hell-am-I-loving-this factor, at least on TV. There's a pretty healthy why-the-hell-am-I-doing-this factor if you ever actually play it, too.
NASCAR will remain deadly boring until they start mounting chainguns on the cars. This is just a fact of life.
Some day, some fine and wonderful day, she will be mine, and Steve Jackson shall ride shotgun.
Football, on the other hand, is incredibly watchable. It's broken up into setpiece plays that allow time in between for kibbutzing and yelling at the instant replay, but unlike baseball, those setpiece plays are actually interesting. It's violent like hockey, boxing or MMA, but just controlled enough that you can pretend you're not enjoying watching guys trying to use their entire bodies as murder weapons even though you totally are. It has a depth of strategy that rewards a studious approach to the sport; if you're a geek, there is no sport closer to a tabletop wargame or RPG than this. Plus, there's tight pants with tight buns in them for one-half-plus-ten-percent of us, and cheerleaders for the other one-half-plus-ten-percent.
It is the perfect sport for the televised age. People have been fooling themselves attaching the phrase to baseball for far too long; watching football is America's Pastime.
Next time: The game explained.
It is the perfect sport for the televised age. People have been fooling themselves attaching the phrase to baseball for far too long; watching football is America's Pastime.
Next time: The game explained.
-- The Prolix Wag
"Because I'm Clinton Portis, that's why."
"Because I'm Clinton Portis, that's why."
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Linky Linky Sunday: Flash Games Edition
Having put in countless hours of research, I think it's about time I shared some of my accumulated wisdom and gave out the links for some of my favorite free-to-play flash games. All the links below are to Kongregate, a cool gaming site that lets you track achievements for most games through their "badge" system, as well as donate to the developers of games you like. All of these are worth playing. In no particular order, I give you:
CycloManiacs
Battalion Arena
Gemcraft chapter 0
Amorphous+
Dolphin Olympics 2
The Last Stand 2
Bubble Tanks 2
The Visitor
Desktop TD Pro
Boxhead 2Play Rooms
Portal: The Flash Version
Enjoy!
CycloManiacs
Battalion Arena
Gemcraft chapter 0
Amorphous+
Dolphin Olympics 2
The Last Stand 2
Bubble Tanks 2
The Visitor
Desktop TD Pro
Boxhead 2Play Rooms
Portal: The Flash Version
Enjoy!
-- The Prolix Wag
Crippling carpal-tunnel syndrome is a small price to pay for unlocking all the horns on CycloManiacs.
Crippling carpal-tunnel syndrome is a small price to pay for unlocking all the horns on CycloManiacs.
Labels:
gaming,
Link You Must Click,
Linky Linky Sunday
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Saturday Gallery: Wayne Reynolds
Today I thought I'd share with you the works of my favorite fantasy artist and illustrator, Wayne Reynolds. His artwork has become the face of the new edition of D&D, and with good reason. I love his eye for detail, his compositions, his use of weight, and his sense of humor. Plus, he paints badass elfy-type-babes. Enjoy.
-- The Prolix Wag
Call it "para-art" and I WILL pop you one.
Call it "para-art" and I WILL pop you one.
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