Editor's note: Travis summons his inner Scrooge to look at the things that make us gamers laugh (and cry) at Christmastime: grandma gifts, presents that aren't games, and -- on those rare occasions -- getting exactly what we want. Happy holidays! -Brett

Christmas comes in November for hardcore gamers. It's wonderful. Most game companies release their big name titles then so that step-dads will have an easy time picking out an M-rated game in an effort to buy their child's love via software. This might be bad news for the future of America, but screw it -- we had a good run.

For us adult nerds, that early onslaught of games means we get to enjoy a full calendar month of gaming goodness before the seventh grade masses ruin it for everyone when they unwrap their presents. Unfortunately, there's nothing less funny than a happy nerd.

There is absolutely nothing funny about this image.

In an effort to make gamers laugh and keep things festive, I'd like to whisk you all back, like a Gamer Ghost of Christmas Past, to your years as wee kids at Christmastime. A time before consoles had a dozen pointless SKUs to choose from, before games came on discs, before controllers had more than six buttons, and before your parents knew exactly how disappointed to be in you. I'm pretty sure the situations I describe will be common to all gamers who have experienced gift giving occasions, but if you haven't had the good fortune to witness any of them, don't feel bad. It just means you have less in common with this man:

Taken at this year's company party. I was the only one to dress up.

The Grandma Effect

I'll explain this one with a real-life example. Once upon a time, l'il Travis desperately wanted a Super Nintendo for Christmas. My grandma, who shall remain nameless (don't judge me -- like you know your grandma's first name), wanted to give me that Super Nintendo. God help her, she tried, but come Christmas morning I unwrapped a copy of Mario Paint with no system to play it on. The box did say "Super Nintendo" and the game was grossly overpriced, so I could see how she got confused, but that was cold comfort to my younger -- and in retrospect incredibly bratty -- self.

The formula is simple: Lots of love for a gamer + next to no knowledge about video games = bad presents. Shit, at least Grandma looked for the word "Nintendo." The year I asked for a Game Boy I'm lucky I didn't end up with one of these:

Still better than an N-Gage.

Even worse is the unexpected gift of shovelware. The Wii owes a good 70 percent of its holiday game sales to well-intentioned grandmothers who disappoint their grandchildren by buying something like this:

I'm willing to bet that never in the history of human endeavor has anyone ever purchased this game for themselves. Ever.

Non-Game Gifts

Not quite as soul-crushing as Grandma's misguided efforts but equally as useless, non-game gifts let you know the type person your family wishes you were. When I was a kid, my parents got me a skateboard, a basketball, and a football on separate occasions. It wasn't hard to tell what was up: they hoped that any hobby other than video games would stick. In fact, the year of the skateboard was also the year of Skate or Die, thus compounding my mom's frustration.

With graphics this good, it's no wonder I had no interest in the real thing.

I'm all for being passive-aggressive, but at least put some creativity into it. Giving a nerdy kid sports gear gets the point across, but it's a little too subtle for my tastes. If you really want to give your kid a complex, maybe try giving them something like a framed picture of the neighbor kid playing little league, or an e-card with a picture of you feigning a smile and a WAV file of you sighing looped in the background.

On a related note, my future kids are fucked.

"This is great, Mom, but hearing about the athletic exploits
of the kid next door is really cutting into my Dragon Quest time."

Perhaps the worst thing about these gifts is finding a way to get rid of them. If you keep them around, they remind your family to hassle you about getting some use out of them -- another in a series of pain-in-the-ass obstacles between the bus stop and the Nintendo. I hid mine behind the gardening supplies in the backyard shed. Since I did all the yard work, my parents were none the wiser and I had guilt-free access to the couch all summer long. Laziness is the new mother of invention.

Victory

After suffering through an avalanche of bad gifts, be they on account of ignorance or an attempt at guilt, you might just get lucky enough to receive the object of your desire. I can recall the giddy feeling I got the year I received my PlayStation. There's nothing quite like that feeling in adulthood: a blissful combination of joy about the games I soon would play and anticipation of the looks on the faces of the kids at school who didn't get one as I mocked them.

You know, I'm starting to realize what a shitty kid I was.

Hell yes.

So this year, in an effort to recapture some of my childhood Christmas fun, I've forwent buying new releases (save for Uncharted 2 -- let's be reasonable here) since the start of October. We'll see how it goes. If my wife buys me hiking gear or some other bullshit, I'll go back to my previous holiday tradition -- binge drinking.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone!

If you like my posts, follow me on Twitter @Cojirro. If you don't like my posts, I'm @Lukeisamazing.