Monday Tip-Off: No Heart, No Soul
We’re at midcourt, and the ball is about to go up…it’s Monday Tip-Off! Join me as I begin the week here at the NLSC with my opinions and commentary on basketball gaming topics, as well as tales of the fun I’ve been having on the virtual hardwood. This week, I’m tipping things off with some thoughts on how basketball video games – particularly NBA 2K – have come to lack heart and soul.
Long-time listeners of the NLSC Podcast have no doubt heard Dee and me lamenting the lack of heart and soul in modern basketball video games, compared to many of our old favourites. Judging by some of the responses we’ve received, and other comments that I’ve seen in our Forum, our Discord, and on social media, we’re not alone in that regard. Of course, it’s impossible to express such opinions without being accused of wearing nostalgia goggles. “You just miss your childhood, and the way those games used to make you feel. It’s not the games that changed; you just got old and jaded!”
Ad hominem arguments from wannabe psychoanalysts aside, there is a sliver of truth here. Recapturing the magic of youth and our first forays into a hobby is like trying to put the proverbial toothpaste back into the tube. To once again reference an astute observation that “Yahtzee” Croshaw made about nostalgia, we can’t truly go back to being twelve years old; an age where we were old enough to appreciate our hobbies, but still young enough to not yet be cynical about them. Of course, we have to look at the reasons why basketball video games inspire cynicism on top of valid criticism. There are undoubtedly aspects of their design nowadays that lack heart and soul.
Let’s get one thing out of the way first. While video games have become big business and a more socially acceptable hobby than when I was a kid in the 90s, they’ve always been products. Going back to the heyday of arcades, games were designed in a way to keep people putting in money, as well as deter them from hogging the machine. These design principles often carried over into games for 8-bit and 16-bit consoles, where they contributed to their notorious artificial difficulty, or limited gameplay in a way that was unsuitable for a home release. As game design evolved, developers perfected their craft, and home releases were about giving gamers the most bang for their buck.
But yes, they were still products, with a clear aim of selling as many units as possible. That naturally involved some “creative” – or to be blunt, deceptive – advertising that pumped up the games that developers knew didn’t turn out so great. No, I’m not so blinded by nostalgia goggles that I believe every game back in the day was wonderful; I’ve played too many disappointing titles for that! However, the landmark games that were artistic achievements sold well and made a profit because they were outstanding entertainment products. They were worth the money, worth the wait from the moment we caught our first glimpse of them. There’s undeniable heart and soul in those titles.
Unfortunately, the introduction of microtransactions, season passes, special editions, and all the ways that companies milk gamers for extra money, has robbed modern games of their heart and soul. Yes, old games were products, just like action figures, tabletop games, and basically any other toy I had growing up. The best ones all had something going for them, though; something fun and appealing that made them fly off of shelves. Because the goal is for games to keep making money post-release, fun isn’t necessarily the goal. Indeed, designing modes to be less fun if you don’t spend to speed up progress is how publishers “encourage” gamers to make in-game purchases.
We know this – I’ve certainly criticised it in countless articles and podcast episodes – but too many people deny or defend the practice. You know the go-to line here: “it’s just business!” And sure, it is and always has been, but good business goes hand-in-hand with delivering a fantastic product; not one that relies on predatory mechanics that take advantage of kids and anyone who struggles with impulse control, such as recovering gambling addicts. This was a valid concern when in-game purchases and questionable DLC were still in their infancy (remember horse armour?), and it’s only grown worse as publishers have perfected ways to be pushy about microtransactions.
That pushiness is something that shills love to downplay, usually by pointing out how long microtransactions have been in NBA 2K. While that’s true, we weren’t always hit with pop-ups advertising VC packs and season passes every time we fired up a game. These pop-ups have also become more deceptive, as a careless button press will take us directly to a purchase screen. There’s nothing more soullessly corporate than being bombarded with advertising and pressure to spend, in a game that already has a rather expensive special edition. Instead of being welcomed to another session of a favourite game, we’re being hit with a sales pitch. There’s absolutely no heart and soul in that.
It reminds me of when I reached out to the author of one of my favourite books from childhood. In my email, I thanked him for the book, mentioning how meaningful it was for me growing up, and that it helped to inspire my love of reading and writing. He sent me a very gracious reply, but also made sure to mention that he had a new children’s book out; you know, just in case I was in the market for one! I realise that it’s all part of the hustle, but it did sour an otherwise pleasant interaction for me. It’s like when a brand tries to do something heartfelt and socially conscious, but it rings hollow because of all the commercialism that’s inevitably attached to the goodwill.
I realise there’s irony in me saying that. As a 90s kid, many of the cartoons that I grew up with were all about advertising toys! Still, as much as shows such as Transformers or the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were often derided as being little more than glorified toy commercials, they could still be enjoyed on their own merits. You didn’t need to buy the toys to watch, understand, and enjoy the show, and the toys themselves were fun. Again, it’s a different story with the pushy pop-ups in NBA 2K25, and MyCAREER and MyTEAM being designed to be significantly less fun if you go No Money Spent. The soulless commercialism is an undeniable detriment.
While the monetisation is a large factor in modern basketball games lacking in heart and soul, it’s not the only reason. As NBA 2K has gained popularity and ultimately established a monopoly in the space, its focus has expanded beyond simply being the premiere basketball sim. Obviously, cosmetic items and the MMORPG approach of open worlds such as The Neighborhood and The City are tied to recurrent revenue, but are also intended to make the game palatable to more casual fans. Whereas big new features once revolved around appealing to hardcore hoop heads, now we’re seeing fashion show sidequests, cart racing, and most recently, the Gravity Ball DLC.
Instead of trying to delight the core audience of rabid NBA and basketball fans, such additions are attempting to cast a wider net and bring in gamers who may be open to playing a basketball video game, but aren’t necessarily all that interested in the sport. Again, this approach feels cynically corporate, and lacking in artistic integrity. As someone who used to play the trivia game in NBA 2K19 MyCAREER in the hopes of winning some extra VC, seeing so many wrong answers to easy basketball questions was an unmistakable sign that the demographic has shifted! It’s also evident from the number of gamers who vocally push back on the idea that NBA 2K should be sim.
Look, I loathe gatekeeping, and I believe that basketball games should be accessible to everyone. In a sim game like NBA 2K however, realism, appreciation for the NBA, and a celebration of basketball culture, must be paramount. Moving away from that in an attempt to appeal to the more casual hoops fans – as well as the competitive online gamers that care more about being elite than realistic basketball – has robbed NBA 2K of its heart and soul. Instead of going the extra mile with bonus teams, or a detail that only the most dedicated NBA fans would notice, or simply making the game fun, the focus is on mechanics that allow elitists to feel gratified as they sneer “get good”.
Basketball games didn’t have this problem when the goal was to create the best, most fun virtual representation of the sport. Whether it was a sim game like NBA Live or NBA 2K, or an arcade title like NBA Jam or NBA Street, it was about our enjoyment and capturing the beauty and excitement of basketball. Just as microtransactions bring soulless, corporate greed to the virtual hardwood and blacktop, chasing trends and trying to gain cred in the world of eSports and competitive gaming has changed what NBA 2K was at its core. It’s gradually moved away from what allowed it to overtake NBA Live as the premier NBA sim title, and in doing so, alienated veteran gamers.
Granted, on the surface, NBA 2K still caters to a variety of preferences with its array of modes. It’s also still generally a realistic portrayal of basketball and the NBA. It definitely prioritises the online scene and the desires of competitive gamers though, even when they clash with its goals as a sim that’s fun for passionate basketball fans. The meta-gaming with a build system that’s all too easily botched, thus hampering your chances for success in online play, also undermines the concept of being able to hoop in a variety of viable styles. Play what you want, how you want, but for the best possible experience, play how we tell you to (and spend some money along the way)!
I’d suggest that this lack of heart and soul, this greed and commercialism that now permeates so much of NBA 2K, has led to a rift and more antagonistic relationship between gamers and developers. I’m not about to excuse us entirely here; gaming communities can be toxic, with needlessly personal attacks on social media, and feedback that’s more about being insulting than constructive. Still, when it feels like we’re not being listened to, when we’re being told that we don’t know what we’re talking about yet not provided with any explanations, it’s difficult to have the same love for the games. I mostly blame the suits, but developers have stoked the flames.
As Dee noted on the podcast, the announcement of Gravity Ball was filled with the kind of corporate speak that underscores the current lack of heart and soul. Visual Concepts president Greg Thomas’ blog post announcing the new DLC was clearly trying to get ahead of the backlash from gamers who buy NBA 2K to, you know, play basketball. It’s not a blatant revolt like the writers of Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain snarking “it’s what the network wants, why bother to complain?” in the theme of said spin-off that only the suits wanted, but reading between the lines, it was an attempt to mollify complaints about NBA 2K being a platform for unrelated gaming concepts.
Incidentally, while I’ve focused on NBA 2K, as it’s the only game in town right now, the same could be said of NBA Live. In its heyday, NBA Live was getting better and better every year. It was going above and beyond wherever possible, from squeezing in helpful features and options to including details such as special courts for alternate venues in Season mode. As the series began to falter on the virtual hardwood, it also began scraping by with the bare minimum. From a basic selection of retro jerseys to “streamlined” modes to the underutilisation of Legends, NBA Live’s take on EA’s slogan was more “if it’s in the game, then it’s only because it’s absolutely essential”.
In all fairness, I’m not privy to all of the behind-the-scenes circumstances that led to those design choices. I’m more than willing to lay the blame at the feet of the suits for restricting creative freedom and budget alike. For us as consumers though, while the reasons may make us more sympathetic towards the developers, it ultimately doesn’t make the result any less disappointing. I don’t know what’s being said behind closed doors at EA Sports and Visual Concepts, but I do know that basketball video games have become increasingly disposable. Not only do they lose their online support, but they don’t have a unique charm that could beckon us back like so many games of old.
Once again, video games have always been products, just like any other toy. They’ve become commodities without heart and soul, though. They’ve become so focused on generating revenue by any means necessary, that they fail at what has made so many entertainment products so successful and profitable: be entertaining! When a game is looking to pressure gamers to spend above and beyond the purchase price at every turn, chasing popular trends like eSports, and vying to compete with titles outside of its own genre, then the goal is no longer to provide the core audience with enjoyable gameplay and value for money. There’s simply no heart and soul in that approach.
Obviously, marketing hype is nothing new. NBA Live 96 proclaimed itself to be a “back-to-back champion”. NBA Live 97 boldly declared it was “the soul of hoops”. NBA 2K7 claimed to be “the next generation champion”. NBA 2K8‘s tagline was “It’s Like That”. NBA 2K11 invited us to “become the greatest” with MJ. Even NBA Jam Tournament Edition bragged that it had “pumped up the jam”; a reference to what was then still a fairly recent hip hop song. These slogans are no less commercial than any taglines and hashtags we see now, but the games in question were able to back up the boasting with an experience filled with heart and soul. It didn’t feel like empty hype.
Lest this invite accusations of nostalgia goggles, there have been more recent games that have had heart and soul. NBA 2K14 and NBA 2K17 certainly demonstrated both. NBA Live 18 isn’t the deepest title, but as I’ve said, I really dig its vibe. I don’t have to go back to my childhood to find basketball video games that have spoken to me as an enthusiastic hoops fan and gamer. This isn’t a case of being jaded, or at least, jaded for no good reason. I’m also not suggesting that there’s nothing good in more recent titles. However, that doesn’t mean corporate greed and questionable design choices haven’t left them lacking the heart and soul that were essential ingredients in creating classics.
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