Game 1 of season 2016 pitched me against a team that PES2009 calls INTER. I assume that this is a side-effect of Konami’s peculiar licensing arrangements, and that they didn’t call Inter Milan INTER for chummy reasons. If they did, then we can soon expect Manchester United to appear in the game as UNITED. Tottenham Hotspur as SPURS. Et cetera.
Licensing doesn’t matter to me, really, but I know that it matters to some—perhaps to most. The only impact it has on me is extending the meagre time that I have to spend in Edit mode every year, changing the proper names. I’ll have to pop in and turn INTER into INTER MILAN before too long.
Not now though. Now, I have a game to play. As yesterday’s screenshot of my PES2009 Track Record showed, I prefer playing the game to almost any other activity. 18 minutes in Edit mode as opposed to 85 hours in Master League will attest to that.
As ever I wanted to start this season with a bang. Get off to a flyer. Record a win, and have at least the temporary morale-boost of seeing myself at or near the top of the league after one match. It’s how it’s been over the past few seasons.
Not this season. I drew 0-0 with INTER. Now, there are nil-nil draws and there are nil-nil draws. This was a nil-nil draw. By that I mean it was pretty turgid affair with few clear-cut chances for either side.
I could and should have taken one of my chances. I was clean though with Giggs. It’s quite rare for me in PES2009 so far to have a one-on-one. So I wasn’t quite sure what to do. The old trusty method of feathering the shoot button whilst aiming at a slight angle towards the corner doesn’t seem to work. I tried it again here nevertheless, and duly missed. The keeper saved it, actually—saved and held onto it. Up the other end, my keeper, a now-mature Dudek, was also gathering everything coming his way. Who says the PES2009 keepers are just as rubbish as last year’s?
In the final seconds of the game INTER had the best chance of the match. It was their turn to be clear through, and I panickily raced my keeper out towards the striker. He sidestepped and shot. Dudek got the edge of a glove to the ball, killing its pace, but it kept rolling. It looked a certain goal. I’d already resigned myself to it, and to losing 0-1 unfairly. Every Master League player will know exactly what I mean. But suddenly there was Jackson, almost on the line, to hoof it clear.
0-0. It just had to be.