Cooperation is a beautiful thing. It has allowed us to build the wonders of the world, and create society as we know it. Too bad the internet disagrees. Jump into any online co-op game and you will meet a colorful array of players. From the merely annoying, to the infuriatingly counterproductive. Of course, not everyone is looking to burn the world down around them. Many players are there to hone their skills and become victorious in their game of choice. But those few… Those select few that show up in every match looking to add a little chaos to the experience. Those are the players that fall into their own distinct categories of terribleness.
The Control Freak
You know this one. The player that is calling all the shots, whether or not anyone is listening. They are the supreme commander of this herd of cats, and they won’t let their dreadfully middling skills (or yours) stand in the way of absolute victory. You are a chess piece in their game now. So you better get in line or… You know… Do whatever you were going to do, anyway.
Of course, despite everyone’s best efforts (or not), victory eludes your rag-tag team of misfits. And one player knows exactly what went wrong and who exactly is to blame…
The Perfect Player (Who Always Seems To Lose)
This one knows exactly what you, and everyone else, did wrong. Of course, that doesn’t include them. None of this is their fault. If you were only better at your role as the team’s healer/support/DPS/Tank, then we’d all be staring at the word “VICTORY” with sparkly shit all around it right now.
No, this all boils down to this player having to carry the team while you do whatever the game’s version of eating paste is. You should just quit if you weren’t going to try in the first place!
This player is the armchair quarterback of the group. The one that knew just what needed to happen, but only after the whole ordeal is over with. They’re blustery and annoying and mostly wrong. But they were right about that one player who truly did nothing to contribute.
You know the one…
This player isn’t bound by your, or anyone else’s, rules. They care nothing for trivial things like “teamwork” or “objectives.” They simply exist in that moment to make your life a living hell for the next twenty minutes.
Should they keep jumping off ledges to their deaths? Absolutely. Should they continually rain friendly fire upon you all while completely ignoring the enemy? Of course! What about tea-bagging the same spot over and over for the entire duration of the match? Go for it, little buddy! The world is you flaming oyster!
This player will do absolutely nothing to help. And if it actively hinders your team from winning: BONUS POINTS!! They thrive on your anger and frustration as you scream unspeakable insults about their mother into your headset. It makes them stronger. Your pain is their joy.
Now thankfully, their existence on game servers is usually short lived as an avalanche of strongly worded reports sends them back to the seventh circle of gamer hell where they belong. But for that fleeting moment, they ruined it for everyone. And that makes them happy.
The Religious Main
Ah yes, this player. The wholly devout. The one who plays only their favorite character and any mention of switching is pure blasphemy. After all, they’ve logged 600 hours with their character. It’s theirs. You switch, if you’re so worried about it!
This player will sacrifice any notion of balance or composition as long as they can slip into those same familiar controls. They never speak to anyone. They simply stare back at you with the same face they’ve come to know as their own. Try as you might to convince them that they need to do what’s best for the team! They care not. They are what they are and nothing will change that. Not even the inevitable collapse of the universe.
Ugh, kids are just the worst. They never shut up, they’re always trying to add you to some sort of friend list, and did I mention that they NEVER STOP TALKING?! It’s just a constant stream of words and noises without so much as a hint of pausing for breath.
I honestly don’t think they respirate like the rest of us.
Now, they may have considerable in-game skill, or not, depending on how neglectful their parents are. But, even if they can run circles around every other member of the team, it doesn’t really matter. Because, by the end of the game, everyone has abandoned all hope of communication and started wondering what the sweet release of death would feel like. Anything to stop that shrill, prepubescent voice from entering your ear holes any longer.
So There You Have It…
The five players you meet in any co-op game. They certainly won’t be harnessing the power of teamwork to accomplish great things, but they also suck to talk to in any situation life throws at you. So, uh…. Good luck, I guess(?)