So it’s that time of year again. It feels strange and awesome to say it. It’s time for Headshots from the Heart.
What’s that? Why is there a banner ad? Have I sold out? Yes. For the children. I’m glad you asked.
I love games. I also love people. last May, with the help of some awesome friends, some wonderful sponsors, and a team of amazing volunteers, we combined those two loves to create Headshots from the Heart, a video game marathon for Child’s Play. Four of us played Borderlands for 24 hours straight on a live webcast, with auctions, interviews, giveaways, and the occasional song from me when the game was broken (which was not that often). But 24 hours isn’t that long for a marathon, so we had to make it more challenging. Instead of donating, people could pledge an amount of money that we would get every time we killed an enemy with a headshot, that most elusive of skillful gaming achievements. After perforating over 3400 computerized noggins, we raised almost three thousand dollars for Child’s Play, an international charity that donates toys and video games to children’s hospitals around the world. But something was missing, so we had to do it again.
This year, the game is Borderlands 2. And we have a webcast, and auctions, and interviews, and giveaways. We have music and madness, wonderful sponsors and amazing volunteers. But we also have the one thing we were missing. Everyone else. Headshots from the Heart isn’t about me helping kids. It isn’t about my friends and I helping kids. It’s about gamers helping kids.
See, if your’e a runner, not just someone who chokes out a mile now and again, but someone with a real passion for running, you can run for charity every weekend in the summer. You can take something you love and use it to make people’s lives better. And that is awesome. But I’m not a runner. I’m a gamer. That’s what I’m passionate about, and it’s a lot harder to find a way to use that passion for good. That’s what Headshots is for.
In the service of that, we’ll only be fielding three players this year. They’ll forge through Borderlands in a 24 hour marathon that will push them to their limits. Our fourth seat will be occupied by you, or someone else from the kickass LAN party we’ll be hosting in the other room. If you raise $50 for Child’s Play through us, you’ll have the opportunity to join one of our LAN party timeslots, which entitles you to bring your computer and have a good time, as well as getting prizes, all the crumpets you can eat, and the chance to join our players for the main event and having your headshots count for Child’s Play.
We’ll be playing League of Legends, Team Fortress 2, and a host of other games, as well as having a table set up for board games, and a bunch of other things to do. So tell your friends, and help us help kids, because they need it. They need us.
I remember the game that made me a gamer. Wizards and Warriors, for the original Nintendo. When I was ten, I’d play through the whole game, start to finish, every morning before school. Some mornings that’d go great, and some it’d wind up with my mother yelling at me “Jim! You have to go to school!” I’d always say the same things. “Just one more level.” “I have one continue left!” I didn’t want to give it up.
When you’re a kid in the hospital, there’s only one kind of doctor visit you want. You want them to come in and say “It’s time to go home.” To tell you it’s time to go back to your life, to your friends, your family, your own bed…But more often than not, kids won’t hear that. they’ll hope for it, but it’ll be news, or more tests, or a hundred other things. Only once will that doctor come in and say the magic words. But every time, you’re hopeful. Maybe this is it. And every time but one, you’re hoping in vain. What we want, what we need to to help us ensure is that when that doctor comes in and says it’s time to go home, these kids say the same thing.
“One more level.”
We’re going to do everything we can to make sure that happens. Join us on May 18th, online or in person, and be the pwnage you want to see in the world.
