Every time I sit down with my PlayStation 3 the great struggle begins anew; trophies are in my head. Part of the struggle is deciding what game to play and part of that decision is based on the current trophy status of a specific title. Rather than simply choosing a game based on my desire to actually play it, I increasingly find myself perusing a game’s trophy list to aid me in the decision making process. I carefully weigh the pros and cons of how attainable the next trophy may or may not be. Something is fundamentally wrong with this situation.

Trophies are chores plain and simple. Here’s a list of mostly random errands for you to partake in at your earliest convenience, more appropriately, a list of ways to interrupt your gaming experience. However the interruption I’m speaking of isn’t the trophy notification (dink!), which you might be thinking of but rather the thoughts you’re acting on to obtain that trophy. I found myself consciously thinking, “Well I was going to just shoot this bug but I could jump on him to death at 2 HP per hit” (‘My Brother’s an Italian Plumber’). It’s entirely possible that that was fun for someone, but it felt like a chore and it did absolutely nothing to enhance my Borderlands experience. There I was playing my game in my own way, when all of a sudden I found myself playing it in someone else’s way.

Achieving pointless trophies doesn’t really award me anything. I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished something or learned anything significant, and now, I have a useless icon to show for it. Despite this I still feel compelled to track them down and raise my trophy level, although I couldn’t tell you precisely why. Maybe some people are in it for the bragging rights but I wouldn’t want to be caught dead bragging about my trophy level. Besides that fact, only a small handful of players on my friends list are even in the same ballpark as I, lead by someone with a pair of platinums in such classics as Wanted: Weapons of Fate and Terminator: Salvation. I have no idea if any of them periodically check my profile – obviously I do theirs - but I hope for their sake they do not.

Sometimes it feels like I spend more time fondling my trophies then I actually spend playing my games. Whether in game, pregame or even postgame, I’m frequently perusing lists from games I haven’t played in ages, scrolling through them to stroke my ego as hundreds of trophies fly by on the XMB accompanied by that intoxicating clicking sound. Unfortunately my buzz is always killed when I scroll past the games my friends have brought over to play such as Modern Warfare 2 and Rock Band 2, and I see their zero and one percents respectively, forever tarnishing my collection and diminishing my accomplishments. At some point during these events I’ll realize that I’m actually spending time ogling electronic trinkets. I’ve found myself more concerned with completing a games’ laundry list then actually enjoying it for what it is, a game, something meant to be played with.

Games are fun, or at least they’re supposed to be, and if trophies are here to stay they should be too. Rather than provide me a list of ways to make an ass of myself mid-game, challenge me to play in a different manner that still makes sense, broadens my gameplay scope or furthers my appreciation of the title. One trophy that has done exactly that is the ‘Overclocked’ one in the PlayStation Network shooter Gravity Crash, which challenges players to complete any ten of the games’ stages under the recommended time. Now you may think it’s just a simple speed run trophy, which it is, but it forced me to be aggressive and take risks, which are normally inadvisable in a game that consists of one hit deaths and maze-like level design. But learning to play Gravity Crash aggressively rather than tentatively gave me a better grasp of how my ship handled and opened up new tactics, it served the dual purpose of broadening my understanding of the game while introducing a fun alternative gameplay approach.

Theoretically trophies provide us with greater incentive to not only finish our games but to play them more beyond completion. Replayability is often a sticking point with a lot of us but in most story driven games it’s of no real concern to me, I play through the experience once and I’m satisfied. Two of the games I’ve gone platinum with both required a second playthrough and when I successfully refinished Resistance 2 on Super Human (‘OMGWTFBBQ’) it likely marked the first time I beat a significant game twice since my Sega Genesis. I was also somehow propelled into sticking with R2’s multiplayer for an entire year to rack up ten-thousand ranked match kills (‘Killing Machine’). Now I certainly wouldn’t have logged well over one-hundred-fifty hours on a game that I didn’t like but it’s unlike me to stick with any game for as significant a period. I’ve certainly gotten well more than my $65 (DLC included) worth of Resistance, but the larger issue is a couple of trophies fundamentally changed the way I approach gaming, and I’m still unsure whether that’s a good or a bad thing.

Trophies are derived from our generation’s desire to constantly be recognized but a game should be rewarding enough on its own. They cater to my primal urge to collect things, to want things that have no real value or purpose. I find myself loving to hate them, while simultaneously hating to love them.

They’re in my head.

And they make me feel cool.