For those of us who relish the storytelling aspects of video games, single-player is the way to go. If you have ever had the experience of gathering a group of people in order to create a functioning, non-scripted narrative, you know how quickly it goes off the rails. Everyone wants to be the lead, and steer the story in the direction most favorable to themselves. So the idea of a multiplayer, story-driven game, where each player has as much control as any other, seems ludicrous. In single-player, you are the hero that matters, and the fate of the world rests upon your shoulders. The rush that comes from a victory that you alone effected is just as strong as any derived from being part of a team, and arguably greater, because it was all dependent upon your skills, with no outside help.

I've even found greater joy in playing MMOs singly than with teammates. While I love seeing other players run past me, or fighting in the distance, there is a feeling of nobility that's inherent in facing a vast, epic environment on my own. Let's face it, quests are typically written addressing a single player -- they speak to you by name, and task you with any number of world-altering deeds. Even if you temporarily group with another who's pursuing the same quest, you will return to the quest-giver alone, and accept the rewards alone.

Some of gaming's greatest series have been and continue to be single-player experiences: The Legend of Zelda. Tomb Raider. Metroid. Mario. God of War. There is a strength and purity to these games that stems directly from the narratives inherent in these worlds. One might make the argument that games don't need story to be successful, and that's absolutely true. But I believe that the inclusion of a story enhances a game more often than not, and as I've established, strong narrative requires single-player focus.

And let's not forget the darker side of multiplayer, what Penny Arcade's John Gabriel has coined the Greater Internet F#%kwad Theory: Normal person + Anonymity + Audience = Total F#%kwad. There is an aggression bred by competition that sometimes leads to ugliness, and online play seems to exacerbate this phenomenon. At least when I fail playing my single-player game, there's no one there to rub my nose in it, or to comment on my performance by deriding my sexual proclivity, which seems to be the common means of assertion in these cases. If I have felt any leaning toward wanting to play online against other humans, repeated negative experiences have squelched that desire many times over.

I'll grant that there are probably many joys inherent in online play with and against other players that I might never realize, but I feel that I haven't been yearning for that. Games are fulfilling to me by themselves, without the supposedly life-enriching prospect of Internet-enabled competition against people I don't know, and therefore don't care about beating. I play games to enrich my imagination and need for diversion; when I want sociability, I go out with friends. I don't thrive on competition, and I might never do. Single-player games are the ultimate format for me, and as long as people like me exist, there will always be a market for them.