But then one of my power punches leaves me open. The punch he sends into my chest drops my stamina-poor fighter to the mat. I extended myself too far and won nothing for my efforts, which isn’t a bad metaphor for the series itself. EA Canada/Electronic Artsįight Night, as a franchise, should be dead. It was built on a messy web of individually negotiated contracts that often meant popular boxers were dropped from each game’s roster for various reasons. Then EA signed a deal with UFC one year after Fight Night Champion’s release, transitioned the entire EA Canada team to develop UFC games, and extinguished the last unlicensed EA Sports series. Yet nearly two thousand people are still using the Fight Night Champion servers when I log in on a random Thursday afternoon. The game is backward compatible on Xbox One, extending the series’ lifetime into the next console generation due to Microsoft’s focus on creating a single, contiguous library of games for its users. And Fight Night Champion, graphically and mechanically, holds up really damn well. There hasn’t been a Fight Night release in over eight years, and somehow, I still see a contender. I also found a kindred spirit in Andre Bishop himself. Emphasis on “seems.” Image: EA Canada/Electronic Arts When your very existence feels like a threatĪndre Bishop seems to be a quiet guy. However, the further I progressed, the more I realized that what I initially took to be a nature of calm was in fact a constant practice of self control. Andre faces a barrage of indignities throughout the campaign. He’s attacked for his talent, his race, his commitments sometimes, he’s attacked for the bare fact that he exists. I didn’t find the crunch of restrained pain and force of will that crossed his digital face until I recognized how often it had crossed my own. It’s hard to describe how much of my life feels actively dangerous. A black man running down the street inspires questions, if not gunshots.
When I’m in cars that are pulled over, I make sure my hands are always in sight.
When I lived overseas, I slowly discovered that the town my family had moved to was filled with neo-Nazis. I ended up playing a tactical board game with one at the local board game shop. The entire time, I calculated how many rounds I could win and still walk out of the building safely. Watching the bulging vein on his temple, I moved accordingly. So, when Andre Bishop sinks his fist into another Nazi face, or gets the championship belt he earned against every odd and disadvantage, I feel a sense of freedom myself. He unleashes himself, and grins, and screams his greatness and joy to the world. He doesn’t have to apologize for existing anymore.
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