Geometry of the Nintendo Wii (Or, Why My 5 Year Old Kicks My Ass at Wii Sports)

I am competitive by nature. Even at stuff I don’t care that much about and know I’m not very good at. I once knocked over a little girl at a wedding reception so I could catch the bouquet, even though I was, for all intents and purposes, already engaged. So you can imagine my extreme frustration and annoyance by the fact that my son, a tiny little hobbledehoy, creams me at both Wii bowling and Wii boxing. It’s gotten to the point that I don’t even want to play with him, especially because he seems to have mastered the art of excessive celebration; if this were the NFL, he’d be fined for the shit he pulls when he licks me in a match. He cackles with glee as dances about the living room chanting, “Uh huh! I’m awesome! You suck!” He gyrates those hips and pulls faces, all the while maintaining eye contact for the rub. It’s maddening.

And what’s even more aggravating is that he’s so freaking cute when he does it, I simultaneously want to hug him and rip his head right off his bony, little shoulders.

Confused by our son’s otherworldly ability to demolish us in Wii Sports competitions (he can reliably bowl a 200, and has bowled as much as a 245. My high score is a 190, which I was proud of until my son came home from daycare and said, “I can do better than that” and bowled a 219. Bastard.) my husband took it upon himself to figure out how in the bloody hell the kid kept beating us.

It all comes down to geometry.

The Wii consists of several different devices that interact with each other: the console itself, the IR (infrared) receiver that sits atop the television, and the Wii-mote (an IR transmitter). In bowling, in order to calculate the path of the ball, the Wii detects the change in the angle between the Wii-mote and the sensor to determine the path of the ball. However, when you are really close to the receiver, it does not detect changes in angle as accurately as it does when the transmitter is further away.

In order to appreciate the significance of this, you have to understand how my son bowls. He starts at the back of the room and then runs at top speed towards the television and hurls the virtual bowling ball in the air. It’s hysterical to watch, actually. Every time he does it I cringe because I can just imagine him not being able to stop and slamming full-force into the television. But, with uncanny agility, he’s able to stop just inches before the television and release the ball.

And thus bowl strike, after strike, after strike.

At Wii boxing, however, his advantage is somewhat different. Here his advantage is his freakishly short arms.

In boxing, the strength of a blow does not depend on how quickly or how forcefully you punch out. It is calculated based on the total time from thrust to recoil. So since my son’s arms are so measly, he’s able to repeatedly throw powerblow after powerblow, because the time from thrust to recoil is so short.

In theory, then, you could stand there and sort of bounce your Wii-motes in and out in rapid succession, but that doesn’t feel like boxing. The fun of playing the Wii isn’t (contrary to my competitive nature) merely to win. It’s emulating whatever activity you’re involved in. If I just toss my Wii-mote about, yeah I could win, but it’d feel cheap, like cheating. As as much as I like to win, I need the gratification of knowing I won honestly.

So, unless I want to start hurling myself at the television (which, given my mass, is probably not a good idea because I don’t think I could overcome that momentum) or reduce the length of my arms by 18 inches, I guess I’m just stuck playing second fiddle to a kindergartener.

I console myself in the knowledge that he has to grow up sometime, and the playing field will be level. Ah payback. She’s a bitch.