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“How about fighting one of the little boys?” Leo suggested. And thus it was decided. I was to battle 12-year-old Charles Vuong. He was there with his dad, and I was told he was “actually pretty good”.
He was. In the same way that a medium-sized supernova is presumably “quite warm”. I’m not even going to qualify any statement of his ability with any caveats relating to his age, because that would just be patronising. The guy was pro. Better than a quite few people I regularly play with, and capable of effortlessly throwing out tricks I can’t even do, unless by joystick-flailing fluke. His father has obviously brought him up very well indeed.
Above: Charles, very probably pounding the hell out of Konami's Richard Churchill.
Article continues belowA few warm-up matches with him later, I was worried. Very worried. Any brief scruples I may have had in regards to fighting someone just over a third of my age had gone, replaced by the very real knowledge that he could well beat the crap out of me. On stage. In front of a lot of people. For the rest of the afternoon I was constantly aware of a small presence in a pale blue t-shirt hovering just over my shoulder. He was always watching; observing my game and formulating his counter strategy for later in the day. Like I said, the guy was pro. But in keeping with the community he’s a part of, also an absolute gent and a pleasure to play against.
Eventually the time came for the official heats to begin. For a Street Fighter fan, so much high-level play in a celebratory environment like this was like an early Christmas present, and all too soon it was over and we were down to the final eight. A brief bar break and we would be on to the on-stage finals. And then the exhibitions. Including mine. I debated long and hard over whether to drink during that break, I don’t mind admitting.
Ever the gentleman, Charles popped over during the interval for a pre-fight handshake, and to clarify that although he’d stated that he was going to crush me during some of Capcom’s promotional filming, he’d only said it because he’d been prompted to. I made sure that he knew there were no hard feelings. After all, there was at least a decent chance he would.
The finals themselves? Spellbinding, but I’m not going to attempt to evoke the spectacle of the fights or the spirit of the occasion with something as clumsy as words and punctuation. You can find out for yourself by watching the videos on the next page. Suffice to say, good times were had by all, win or lose. And Charles? He juggled me into an ultra in the second round. A whiffed ultra on my part and a quick Tiger Uppercut punishment later and I was down. What a champ. And yes, we have the direct feed video of that too.
Above: Myself and Charles, mid-crushing.
Such days really are what it’s all about. Like I said in my Street Fighter IV review back in February, social and community gaming isn’t about Xbox Live, or dancing around your living room miming a saxophone with a plastic wand. It’s about a disparate bunch of people coming together to have fun and revel in a shared culture. It’s about a room full of fighters becoming a (semi) harmonious choir for an impromptu singalong to the Ancient Temple theme during a tense finals match. It’s about a 12-year-old boy being held aloft the crowd as the real hero of a day of top-level play.
Make no mistake. Street Fighter, and by extension gaming culture in general, is in a very healthy state these days. And with players with the skill, guts and grace of young Mr. Vuong in waiting as the champions of tomorrow, its future is in very safe hands indeed.
Now click on for the exclusive videos of all seven finals battles, as well as the three special exhibition fights. Trust me, you'll be glad you did.
