This weekend Rocket League is free to play for anyone with an Xbox One, Playstation 4, PC, or lots of cardboard, scissors, markers, and imagination and patience (okay, that last group can always play pretty much anything for free). I’ve given the game a whirl, finally, and yep: now I’m going to pay money for it.

That’s the point of these free weekends, isn’t it? To get us hooked. Well, it worked. Damn it. This game is really fun. I held back for the longest time because I knew I’d be terrible at it. And I am! But I can play with bots, and they’re worse than me. (I mean, worse than I am. Stupid grammar).

What an age we live in. The internet and streaming and all that. They can let us try before we buy, and whatever they lose in server space from the glut of freeloaders, they more than make up for in advertising. Cause you know I’m not the only old man raving about how much fun I’m having.

Not only am I driving a car around, trying and almost often managing to hit a soccer ball, I’m collecting stuff too. I’ve got a bad collecting-stuff addiction. (I somehow never played Pokemon which is why I am still a functioning adult and not a blob in a basement). I’m collecting tires and toppers and arial flags.

I’m playing these tight little 5-minute games, shouting at the screen every time I score a goal, and making my wife nervous with my new manly strut and confidence. So hell yeah, on Monday when the free weekend is over, I’m throwing money at these guys. I’m all in.

Who knows, I *might* even play against real people one of these days. I’m thinkin, I’m not the only broken-thumbed gaming wannabe stinking up the pitch. I might even be able to hold my own against some of these poor bastards.

You see what I mean about confidence? According to urban legends, giving away free samples is how they got kids hooked on drugs in the 70s. But these digital drugs are waaaaay better. Amiright?