Matchmaking, dedicated servers & the ocean of loneliness

A discussion about the pitfalls of online matchmaking.

I hate to say it, but matchmaking sucks.

It really does, and there’s nothing that you or anyone else can say about it that will change my mind.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been more certain of a thing in my life.

Yup, that’s it.

Thanks for reading, stop by anytime!

Alright, listen, if you really want to talk about it, there’s a lot to go over here, so buckle in.

But why?

In short, matchmaking sucks because having someone or something tell you what to do always sucks.

As the player, I should be in control 100% of the time—no exceptions.

Let me find fun. Let me find the experiences worth having. Let me find a home that feels right for me.

I mean really, let’s transpose modern-day matchmaking to something more relatable, like going out drinking with your pals on Friday night.

However, before you can peruse through the establishments, you must first check in with some bar-finding attendant holding a clipboard.  

This attendant looks over your group for a second, laughs, then hands you a ticket.

The ticket grants you entry to a specific bar and only that bar.

And once your group finishes their drink, the bar kicks you out, and you must start the whole process over again.

Sounds kind of lame, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t you want to look around and vibe-check each place before deciding? And wouldn’t you want to stay at the bar just a little longer if you were having the time of your life?

Well, that’s exactly how matchmaking works and that’s why it sucks.

Tell us how you really feel

To be fair, I’m not saying that video games shouldn’t have matchmaking. What I’m saying is that, in addition to matchmaking, players should have the ability to decide where and how they experience the game.

You see, by not letting players make these decisions, you’re limiting their ability to socialize, build communities, and have new, unexpected experiences.

This might sound counterintuitive; after all, many players, game designers, and developers would argue that matchmaking allows for these kinds of interactions.

But for someone like me, it doesn’t.

And I can’t be the only one who feels this way. And even if I am, so what?

Maybe I deserve to be happy too.

So, what am I proposing? What’s the answer to all these problems?

In short, the answer is private dedicated servers.

Huh?

Ah yes, dedicated servers—everyone’s favorite topic.

For the uninitiated, a dedicated server is a “place” on the internet (like a website) where users can meet up and play a video game. Dedicated servers usually have no other purpose other than serving as a host (hence the designator “dedicated”).  

And yes, I understand that modern FPS games use dedicated servers, but the dedicated servers found in games like Valorant, Overwatch, COD, etc., etc., are not the dedicated servers I’m referring to.

No, what I’m referring to are the private dedicated servers found in games like CS:GO, TF2, and the like.

What’s the difference?

The private dedicated servers found in games like CS:GO and TF2 are persistent, meaning they’re always on and always available to the user, even if the server is empty.

Moreover, the owners or administrators can customize their servers to their liking: from the map pool and game modes to a bunch of other settings that can drastically affect how users play the game.

These dedicated servers are also accessible through a browser that allows players to not only see several servers at once but also filter and sort them based on different conditions (e.g., player count, ping, game mode, etc., etc.).

However, in games like Overwatch, the dedicated servers are not always available to the user and there are no administrators.

And once the session is over, the user is removed from the server and thrown back into the matchmaking system.

Sound familiar?

And before y’all start having a panic attack, I am quite aware that users can create custom games in Overwatch; however, these servers are not persistent and lack in-depth customization options.  

These distinctions are important for reasons we’ll get into later, but just know that the custom game experience offered in Overwatch is a half-measure—it doesn’t solve the issues like community building, socializing, and all that other stuff I mentioned earlier.

So, how do private dedicated servers solve all these issues?

Glad you asked.

Into the void and back again

I don’t know about you, but making friends has always been difficult for me.

Why?

Because I’m a classic introvert and it takes me a while to warm up to different environments, people, etc.

As such, clicking on any sort of “matchmaking” button is kind of a drag for me. Why?

Well, there are several reasons:

First, matchmaking is stressful. It’s not that I don’t like playing with people, and it’s not like I can’t handle stress, but I don’t want to be immediately thrown into a situation where people are depending on me to—you know—not muck things up, especially if I’m new to the game.

Second, people are jerks. Period.  

When things go wrong, it’s not uncommon for verbal and textual harassment to occur, and although some developers say they’re trying to crack down on this sort of thing, it’s probably never going away.

And even when things go right, the matches are usually so short that there’s really no time to get to know one another.

And once it’s over, you’ll probably never see those players ever again—you know, cause that attendant loitering on the corner takes his job way too seriously.

This dynamic makes the whole matchmaking experience feel quite lonely.

On the other hand, a private dedicated server makes it much easier for me to interact with others.

Why?

Remember that whole thing about private dedicated servers being persistent?

When a private dedicated server is persistent, it means that the server is up and running 24/7. This means that, if I find a server that I like and has a good vibe, I can favorite it and return to the server at another time.

This also means other players can do the same, which allows for private dedicated servers to have “regulars”, which is great if you’re the kind of person who takes a while to warm up to others.

Indeed, most of the online acquaintances I’ve met online have occurred through private dedicated servers.

The whole process usually breaks down like this:

• I find a server I like

• I play there for hours on end

• I try to be one of the “better” players on the server

• Other people start to remember me

• I strike up a conversation with one of the regulars or vice versa

• Friendship ❤️

This process of making friends feels much more organic and genuine, which is a necessity for me.

Indeed, before I even open my mouth or say something in chat, the regulars already know me, and that’s usually a good foundation for forming a friendly relationship.

And even if I never speak or interact with these regulars, it’s still nice to see a familiar “face” on the server. I mean, there are Quake and Counterstrike servers that I play on and have played on for over a decade simply because the server has a strong community of dedicated regulars.

Anyways, if you’re still reading this, thanks for indulging me on this topic.

There is one more thing I want to talk about though, and it’s called emergent gameplay potential.

The hell is emergent gameplay potential?

Let’s try another analogy.

Look, do you remember what it was like to be a kid? Do you remember what it was like to simply play?

To a kid, a playground isn’t just a slide, monkey bars, swings, etc., etc. A playground could be anything. It could be a pirate ship, a fort, a hide ‘n seek arena, or even a place to sit and quietly have an existential crisis.

And it’s this emergent quality of the playground that is missing in modern FPS tiles.

Nowadays, our playgrounds feel like they’re littered with clipboard-holding jerks tasked with enforcing a bunch of unnecessary rules and restrictions.

That slide that you used as a portal between heaven and hell? Nope, sorry, that’s no longer how we do things here at Playground Inc., there are rules to be followed, quotas to be met, etc., etc.

Please keep your imagination to yourselves during your stay.

Indeed, playing modern FPS games feels just as restrictive, and to make things worse, it’s painfully clear that games are transforming into giant conversion funnels, and the funnel is getting wider and deeper with every update.  

This all sounds very dramatic I admit, but this is how games are built these days.  

There’s simply not enough freedom to enjoy a game outside of how the developers intended.

For example, in a game like Valorant, there’s no such thing as a private dedicated server hosting a surf map or a custom game mode with zombies.

However, in a game like CS:GO, these kinds of dedicated servers exist, and I believe it’s this dynamic that has allowed Counterstrike to thrive for over 20 years.

This may not have been what the developers wanted, but the biggest and most transformative games in the industry have come out of the modding community, including Counterstrike, PUBG, DOTA, Team Fortress, and more.

Speaking of more

Once you decide on which dedicated server to join, there’s really no telling what might happen next.  

Sure, you might join a server where the game mode is humans vs. zombies, but if there happens to be an administrator on the server, you might suddenly find that you not only have to contend with zombies but also gravity.

That’s right, that horde of zombies trying to tear you to pieces might take flight at any second, and if the server happens to have sv_alltalk enabled (an option that allows microphone communication between teams), the chaos might be set to your favorite copyrighted tunes.

Private dedicated servers also allow you to join a persistent server even if the server is empty.

This feature allows players to explore the map or test their settings all by their lonesome without anyone trying to kill them.

However, there’s always the chance that someone else might join the server, and this is where things really start to get interesting.

I can’t tell you how many empty servers I found myself in as a kid, then out of the blue, someone else joins. And every single time, it was an experience. Sometimes it turned into a high-stakes, 1v1 situation, other times, it turned into a simple game of hide ‘n seek.

Or, if I happened to be practicing a rocket jump or something of that nature, the other player might join in and perhaps teach me something new—or I would be the one doing the teaching.

Indeed, all these examples have an emergent quality to them, meaning that the gameplay experience can suddenly evolve in interesting and unexpected ways.

I’ve had too many of these encounters to talk about them at length but trust me when I say it was a lot of fun.

This emergent quality is also a great way to make a friend, as there’s something quite special about bonding over something new and interesting with another human being.

So, what now?

Look, it’s not like I’m trying to get anyone to sign a petition or write their local representative—all I’m asking is that we try to consider the needs of players like me.

I’m not that unique, so there must be a few of us out there who would like to see dedicated private servers make a comeback in some shape or form.

So, if you’re a developer, game designer, or project manager, and you’ve made it this far, consider the fact that many of us would rather peruse than be directed where to go.

Don’t shove us into a crowded room with a bunch of jabronis looking to get wasted.

Some of us just want to wander the streets late at night with a comfortable buzz, praying for the unexpected to suddenly sweep us away.