So, coming towards the end of season 15 now, this sight really excites me:
I’m like a 1500m runner just hanging off the shoulder of the pace-setter coming into the final bend. I hope.
I’ve done well to be just 1 point behind, having lost a recent match pretty badly. It was against Spurs away, and I went 2-0 down before half-time.
I threw my dual-DMF gameplan out the window and pushed Farinos as far upfield as he could go and still be a CMF. I left Neeskens alone to mop up Spurs attacks.
I paid the price for this midway through the second half, still 2-0 down and fighting to get back in the match. Spurs were constantly coming at me with everything they had and I was getting frustrated. I mistimed a tackle and had Neeskens straight-red-carded.
Down to 10 men and missing a DMF, I decided to leave everything as it was. I played on with just a defence and no DMF, very daring for me. I had five up front, effectively, and a large empty space between them and the back four.
It so nearly worked out. I soon got a goal back with Forlan. Now at 2-1, and with my blood well and truly up, there was plenty of time left to get the equaliser. I’d have taken a draw as a fine result under the circumstances.
But have you ever noticed sometimes how impossible it is just to get the ball when you desperately, desperately want to?
The CPU wasn’t threatening, as such—it was just annoying. Every time I got the ball, the ball was taken away. No matter the quality of my possession, the ball just wouldn’t stick. There is a palpable difference between losing the ball through your own poor play—being over-hasty, over-direct—and the feeling when the game brazenly just takes it back regardless.
The game ended 2-1 to Spurs. Luckily—or conveniently, I should say—Man Utd also lost their game that week.
In the Europa League I scraped through the first knockout match against Marseille. Next I faced Borussia Monchengladbach. I lost the home leg 0-1, but stormed into an early 2-0 lead at their place and thought I’d won the tie. I ended up losing it 3-2, 4-2 on aggregate. And that was me out of Europe, again. You can’t mentally switch off in PES2012 on Superstar, ever. The game is out to get you.
I am in the semi-final of the FA Cup, where I’ll play Manchester United. That was always going to be one tough mother of a match regardless of any other factors—but just look at the delightful ‘other factor’ the game has decided to throw my way:
An International the day before the big match will completely ravage my star-packed squad. I’m fuming about it, but what can I do?
That semi is my next match. A League and Cup double on Superstar would be so sweet. Work and other things permitting, I should wrap the whole season up over the weekend and conclude it in Monday’s post.
Whether I get that first silverware on Superstar or not, I need a mini-break from PES2012. Not much of a break—just a few days, a week at most. I’ve started feeling quite a bit of PES2012 fatigue.
I still love the game and rate it as the best since PES5, and arguably the best ever. But you can have too much of a good thing.
It’s over-familiarity. I need to refresh my relationship with PES2012, and there’s no better way to do that than not to see it for a while. I accept that I risk breaking the magic spell that PES2012 has weaved over me these past months, but I need to recharge my batteries.
So whatever happens at the end of season 15, I’ve decided a brief summer break is needed. I don’t know yet what I’ll write about in the blog posts that I’ll spend away from the game. Maybe some Football Manager. Maybe some FIFA12. Now wouldn’t that be an interesting experiment at this stage of the season?