There are some blows you just can't expect anyone to recover from. Like being tortured in Nam, losing a wife and kid in childbirth .... or that one Half-Life "upgrade" that wrecked the TeamFortress super-conc jump. My life went steadily downhill from there.

Back in the day? I was on top. I mean that literally -- me and the skybox would lock lips in loving embrace whenever I wanted. I had the timing down perfect -- I could super concussion jump at will. No wall was high enough to stop me. No sniper perch was safe. I was sailing like Earth Wind and Fire. I would look down and see the rolling terrain far below me, the little bridges, tiny pipebombs, and helpless miniscule enemy medics rushing impotently about the shrinking explosion of my spent concussion grenade ... I was God above.

One day it all came crashing onto my head, just as I used to crash onto the heads of unsuspecting snipers. They took away my super conc-jump. Soon I could never get the flag. Many times I couldn't find the front door of a base, having never used it before.

Shortly thereafter I lost my girlfriend. "I ... I can't get up," I tried to tell her. It's funny how you take things for granted.

Now I'm as landlocked as Switzerland. The enemy base seems so tall from down here. I am a prisoner of gravity. I am a worm. I am dirt.

[Victim idea submitted by GameSpy reader: Luis "PowerPigg" Marquez]