It may seem that I was missing the point of Brooke’s message when I said “If I go into the AMRN planning on not winning, then I shouldn’t be a ship captain, right?” The point was, of course, that I should go into it without planning either way, or at least, if I’m planning on winning, to be fine with it if I don’t.
The thing is, when I “lose” on the AMRN, I often have a hard time understanding why.
I was thinking about it more on my way home from work this morning. The AMRN has a rules set, but it is incomplete. GM resolutions are typically based on the GM’s opinion of how things work, both in physics and in Macross. Most of our GMs haven’t seen all of Macross. None of them has a degree in physics.
This is not to say that they must automatically be wrong; far from it. I trust a lot of them farther than I’d trust myself in regards to physics and RPG stats. But since there isn’t a consistent way to resolve combat, the same actions with the same abilities can yield different results, depending on who’s GMing.
Because of that, I’ve never felt like I’ve learned enough to be comfortable with the rules. With minor actions you just have to shrug and go on with life. Major actions, however, often involve huge OOC debates over who’s right. There is no standard.
That’s why, when even more stuff is introduced–fanfic ships, fanfic mecha, new bad guys with all new technology–I get even more frustrated. We don’t even have consistent rules for the technology we already have. Adding more serves no purpose when the existing system is incomplete.
(Actually, the purpose it serves is to hold the interest of the people who are tired of the “boring” stuff, who are looking for something new. And in that it succeeds…but how long can the new stuff be “interesting” before people realize they have no idea how to win?)
There’s no true foundation for any of it except the dogfights in the Macross series, which have not been translated into the AMRN rules set. I don’t even know if that would help.
So, I think what it is is that I get frustrated with things that are imperfect, that could and should be better, and yet are not on the road to being fixed. Getting to play with my friends will not alleviate that feeling.
Therefore, quitting was good, and I don’t regret it.