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Alone in the Arena

"It is not the critic who counts!" Teddy Roosevelt galumphed at me. "The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming." I nodded at his passion and asked, "But what if the woman in the arena has a dragon?" Then Teddy Roosevelt socked me in the nose.

You may have read Teddy Roosevelt’s “The Man in the Arena.” It’s a paragraph about how critics are quivering simpletons compared to the brave souls who actually produce or perform, which of course means it’s my favorite thing ever written. I have a cousin who posts it to my social media timeline at least twice a year. Not sure why. He’s a professional consultant. That’s a fancy way of saying he’s a critic who gets paid. Not sure why you’re beefing on me, cuz.

Anyway. That’s what I kept thinking about while playing Proving Grounds, a solo game about a literal woman in a literal arena.

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