For those who know me, know that I used (yes past tense) a pink Gamecube controller when competing in Smash Brothers 4 tournaments. It saddens me to say that I must put down Pinky, my pink controller, as she has passed away. The two of us have been through some hard-fought battles on the grid-iron of Battlefield and Final Destination. She put in all that she had up until the very end to help get me my first win. Unfortunately, she passed without earning that first win, but she did her best. I want to take this time to reflect on the life and times of Pinky, the pink controller.
Pinky arrived in this world out of an Amazon box and was encased in a hard plastic packaging. It was tough opening the box with my bare hands and pry through that hard plastic packaging, but once I did and held Pinky in my hands for the first time, I knew it was a perfect fit. Together, Pinky and I would take the Smash 4 scene by storm. There would be no stopping us or so I thought. We practiced day and night, I calling out of work, and Pinky playing through starvation pains and hallucinations. We gave it our all.
Once we felt ready we took our game to our first tournament. We played hard, smash after smash, up B after down throw, down throw to f-air, up throw to down air, but, alas we lost our first match. I think it was due to nerves of being streamed live across the internet as well as an audience at the venue. Pinky felt that I wasn’t pulling my weight and that we needed to hit the training mode a little harder. I reminded Pinky that it wasn’t over, that we could make a run through the losers bracket. Pinky calmed down a bit, but knew the journey through losers would be a tough one.
During our break, while we waited for our name to be called for our first losers bracket match, we sat and watched our opponent and talked to our crew to get some tips. Finally, it was time. We took our seat and Pinky plugged in. She felt confident, I felt nauseated. This could be it, we could be eliminated I thought. She gave me some tough love, slapped me in the face, and off we went. Again, we combo’d, we F.L.U.D.D-ed, and cape’d…We failed. I took a sigh of exhaustion and wiped my sweat, Pinky swore up and down and kicked my shins, screaming that we needed to hit training mode hard when we got home.
We practiced, we played, we lost…but we lost together. Lost a total of about 8 tournaments over the course about 2 months. It saddens me that I couldn’t get Pinky her first and/or last win, and know I was a disappointment because of it. I lay to rest knowing that I did my best and it wasn’t good enough. I just hope her god in heaven can get her the wins she deserves and that she is smashing with the best of them. Deuces Pinky, Smash high in the sky.
Autopsy Photo:
Sigh
