I don't know his real name, but I expect to find out. I'll learn it and remember it, but maybe I'll forget it again. I'll never forget his gamertag, his handle, his legend. his ID in the system that brought us together. It was FastlaneKen. I'll never forget his voice. It was deep and jocular. He was a driver and a shooter like me. He was married and had a daughter. He lived in San Diego, but I only recently found out about that. We talked about F1 racing and things automotive in our chatrooms and lobbies. We talked about everything and nothing. We will no longer speak, and it really hurts.
There are about a dozen of us young and middle aged men, and there's an old man who draws us together. We are not named but if you had to give is a name that we've accepted as our own when we bothered to try, it was the Cult of Sun Tzu. I'm not sure what my character is in the cast, I'm sometimes skillful and I can sometimes get the gang to laugh, and I can rant with the best of them. We've been together online in the world of XBOX Live for about five years. We have a bond of friendship. Hanging out and gaming with these men (and one woman occasionally), has been the closest thing I've come to what I imagine its like to being a bar regular.
I have been online since the days when that was an extraordinary privilege, and I have come to know many people through that context. Maybe once a year, I will meet somebody in person that I have known online for many years. There are still many whom I have known 5, 10 and even 15 years online that I have never yet met face to face. And of course there are hundreds of people who know me directly or indirectly from the various places I've sojourned online all these many years. But online writing is one thing - you never get to hear people's voices. Online gaming is much more immersive and personal.
My gaming buddies know my voice and my sense of humor. They know my gaming skills and whether or not I play fair. We've gone many places together in the worlds of racing and shooting. And this weekend a handful of us were scheduled to meet in person - for me for the first time. Some of us will make it to the Long Beach Gran Prix, but one will be sorely missed.
He is a man I knew only in a certain way. Gaming is an odd way to get to know somebody, but in my generation, the ethic of pickup sports is still strong. The ritual of pickup basketball and football is deep with me. So I knew him like I know a player at the regular courts.
The past couple weeks Fastlane was in high spirits. He had just added another motorcycle to his collection. A brand new Ducati 1198. He rode it up this way from San Diego for the Fontana races a few weeks ago. I missed him that weekend but even changed my laptop wallpaper to that bike. We're gearheads in the Cult of Sun Tzu, always talking about cars and software and cellphone plans. Superbike racing was just another angle. I didn't get out to Fontana but I watched that show on the Speed Channel was disappointed in the quality and ordered the full HD upgrade from Verizon so I could get Speed HD. F1 season just started and I wanted to get this season right.
It was probably April 4, the last time I spoke with him. We were playing something of a retro game Rainbow Six Vegas, the original up, until midnight when we got sloppy with sleep. It was an exercise in nostalgia for the four of us, the most mature of the Cult, as we got together several nights that week and played maps we hadn't seen in years. We went to the little town in Mexico, to the dam in Nevada, to the Chinese casino, to the Library.
My online avatar cannot wear a black armband. There's no black suit for me to put on and I cannot put a memorial plaque in any of the maps. If I could, there would be one for Fastlane in PGR4 or Moto GP. A tile at Mugello or perhaps at Deux Ponts in Paris on the wall of the final turn. I'll think about him when I'm prowling the theatre at Dante's Casino or playing Cat and Mouse at Nurburgring. It's going to be different from now on. The lobby just won't be the same.
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