So a strange thing happened today. After an extended development cycle that had some questioning its very existence, The Day Before went live for thousands of eager players across the globe. 4,800 players, to be exact.

Yes, as if it was fated to follow up its disastrous lead-up with an equally if not more disastrous launch, server capacities were unfathomably undersized, causing extended wait times for the nearly 40,000 players crammed into the digital doorway like an old Looney Tunes cartoon. The furore was vociferous, of course, as it very well should have been.

For a game with this much anticipation (and the corresponding wishlist figures to back it up), having only a hair over 10% of your userbase actually capable of playing is inexcusable to the point of being downright incompetent. In Fntastic’s defence, they are not some billion dollar corporation with deep pockets who can simply throw money at the problem until it goes away — just an ambitious little indie dev with a stupid name and weird, vaguely threatening company mantras like “Willingness is Heaven. Unwillingness is Hell.”

After watching the trailers for The Day Before, the main thing I can’t figure out is… Why was anyone hyped in the first place?

Let me frame that statement just a little. I don’t want to yuck anyone’s yum, it’s wonderful that gaming has become so ubiquitous that everyone is catered to. My game of the year contenders will look very different from most others, because I’m seeking something from the industry that doesn’t align with the modern mainstream.

But when I watch these trailers, marred in controversy as they were, all I see is another lifeless, limp first person shooter that closely resembles any other number of lifeless, limp first person shooters readily available. What exactly was I supposed to grasp onto with enthusiasm from the above?

The open world that is self-proclaimed as “beautiful and richly detailed”? The various weapons with their unique characteristics? A cabin that I could decorate to my heart’s content? Nothing about this is new, and if I threw these descriptions into a hat I wouldn’t be able to discern between this and at least fifty other games I already don’t care about (plus Animal Crossing: Happy Home Designer, at least on the decoration front).

If I sound bitter or jealous, that’s because I very much am. I make no secret that I feel estranged by the gaming industry. I dislike seeing titles I personally deem as worthwhile being overlooked, while the accolades are instead heaped on soulless cash grabs. Sometimes I’m left wondering whether I’ve outgrown video games, whereas the truth of the matter is likely that video games have outgrown me.

I don’t revel in the failure of The Day Before’s launch — why should I? These folks have done me no personal harm, to smugly titter in their direction is a cruel and petty act towards not only them but the players who were really looking forward to this.

I just cannot come to terms with the notion that this is what grabs all of the attention, from the media and gaming community alike. Yes, much of the discussion was with a ‘train wreck’ viewpoint, because journalists do so enjoy piling on for clicks (wink wink, nudge nudge), but the simple fact remains: tens of thousands of people have snatched up that same train wreck, while hundreds of thousands more flocked to Twitch to witness it unfold.

It got to the point where the official Discord server was locked from further comments “to let things calm down due to the overwhelming toxicity that we currently cannot manage effectively”, as well as allowing the team to focus on bug fixes.

Could it be that people paid so much attention, out of a place of complete negativity? Are we that fucking depraved as a society that we will choose to focus our efforts on something we expect to hate, and then gleefully dance in the hellfire of their failed efforts?

It’s downright heinous. With no shortage of really beautiful video games that come and go with no commotion — potentially shuttering studios due to a lack of interest and sales — the collective masses have instead chosen to jump on the rickety foundation of a project until it collapses, then continued to jump with even more vigour in the aftermath.

You’ll have to forgive me for the consecutive analogies there, I’m really just trying to consolidate my thoughts on this whole debacle. Whatever standpoint you held leading into The Day Before, it had a rare and entirely undeserved spotlight, and I really just think that sucks.

There are special experiences waiting to be discovered from this year, whether it’s the unabashedly quirky Red Tape or the buttery smooth Super Catboy. Where was their fanfare? Where were their hundreds of thousands of eyeballs? They’ve carved out their own niches based on their quality, while the real fascination is reserved for a white hot mess.

Because of course gaming needed to let me down again in 2023. Me, and approximately 35,000 people still waiting in those godforsaken lobbies.

UPDATE: In a move that could only be described as stunning, the dev team behind The Day Before, Fntastic, has shut down mere days after the game’s launch. The game itself has effectively collapsed, which affects some of my more optimistic statements about the company’s legitimacy.

In any event, the article was reactionary in the first place, so it will remain unedited beyond this addendum. If you’re feeling mad, here is a picture of Sami.