My mother was called the Commissioner; my father was called Dad, and while my mother provided order, my father provided minor chaos. For him, no gaming peripheral had greater honor than the joystick, a glorious invention essential to Madden NFL Football. My father, brother, and I loved joysticks so much we went through several of them over the years. Good times . . .

The abuse joysticks endured  were less from the intensity of the football games and more from our misguided ideas about the effects they had on the games' performance. It doesn't take much effort to move a player down field: a simple nudge will get him going, but I learned from my father that a little more force on the joystick can work wonders.

One of his favorite strategies in Madden was to position his linebacker between the center and guard right on top of the line of scrimmage. This technique required excellent speed on the joystick--as soon as the center snapped the ball, my father jerked back on the joystick with as much force as his muscles could allow. The action would result in a loud pop or something being snapped somewhere within in the joystick. But add luck to the technique and you might successfully slip the linebacker between the  center and guard to sack the quarterback.

At the expense of the joystick.

My father's technique may have been the only justified reason to potentially breaking the joystick. Anything else was overkill. Taking an example from him, I figured that doing more than a nudge or a reasonable pull or push on the joystick could have wonderful results. How much force I put into the joystick delivered different levels of pain on my opponent. Again, a reasonable jerk or twist on the joystick delivered a little pain.  But If my opponent is running downfield, I could put my entire body weight into my arm and through the joystick, hitting him harder and dishing out more pain on the player than the game would allow.

This idea was an illusion, because Madden could not provide more pain than what the developer gave it, no matter how much force I or my brother or my father put on the joystick.

As such, our relentless war on our opponents killed many joysticks every few months: they went limp, they snapped in half, their wires pulled out. So we would visit the store for another victim, one that was comfortable to hold in our hands and could handle our abuse.

After the nineth or tenth joystick, we switched to controllers, but playing football was never the same: you can't put a lot of force on a button. It's not as exciting. And I swear to this day that's the reason my father and me (my brother is in another state with his own family) no longer play football on the PC or any console. If we can't play with a joysticks, we can't play at all.

What did I learn? Other than forming great memories with my father, I learned to take care of my video games. They're more delicate than we think. It only takes one determined but misguided gamer to ruin the fun.

And you save yourself a lot of money.

How has your father influenced your gaming? If you're a father, how have you influenced your child's gaming? And if you've never known your father, did video games fill the void, or is there a father-figure who influenced your gaming?