High score

Joseph Boy, owner of Sol Games, said that not everyone spares the children. "There are LAN parties in Tampa, other cities in Florida, where it's all porn and drugs. I've seen kids swapping porn, a guy getting a blow job in the middle of an auditorium from a girl he just met, people coming in the back doors without paying and leaving with a couple of disks. I don't want people to think of that when they think of gaming. We take security very seriously."

He's spent three years running LAN parties out of his house in Florida, shelling out $900 a month for the power bill. It used to be an adults-only scene, but Boy cleaned it up as kids started playing. "We said 'no alcohol' when the first kid came in. So some guys would leave every hour to hit the bar down the street, then come back." One 17-year-old got caught sneaking out to his car for a drink. "We had to ban him. That caused a whole bunch of complaints, because he was the one who drove his group to the parties, and they lost their ride."

Boy, whose "No drugs, No alcohol, No porn, No warez" policy inspires fan e-mail entitled "No Fun," said he banned one of Florida's top professional players last winter. "[He] fell asleep on the pool table, and lying underneath was his credit card. When I picked it up, I also found a pipe with weed in it. He took back the card but said the pipe wasn't his. We called everyone into the living room and I smashed the pipe. Then we banned [him] and his friends. A big CPL tournament was coming up, everyone wanted to play with him, so we lost a lot of business over it."

The CPL takes a firm anti-drug stance. Alcohol and illegal drugs are not allowed on the premises of CPL events. All violations are reported to the authorities. But policy aside, drug use still lurks on the fringes of the competitive gaming scene. With thousands of dollars in prize money at stake, some players are turning to beta-blockers, cocaine and anti-anxiety drugs like Tranxene in their search for an edge.

Angel Munoz, the league's CEO, is not oblivious. CPL events bristle with law enforcement. "We employ off-duty police officers, sheriffs and constables to ensure that any disruptive behavior is monitored and reported. These people are vigilant 24 hours a day, and have specific instructions on how to proceed, if any suspicious behavior does arise." He concedes that the CPL can regulate only illegal drug use, and anti-anxiety agents are too broad a category to police.

The CPL has been striving for several years to be regarded as having "elevated computer game competitions to a professional sport." It hosts tournaments all over the world and televises some game matches on ESPN. It also sends its top players to interviews with CNN, the USA Network, Fox, NBC, newspapers, and so on, and holds exhibition matches. The competitions, which award prizes up to $150,000, are grueling; the top players have to keep their reflexes sharp and their concentration focused over several days. The matches are broadcast live over the Internet, and Munoz is making plans to have the World Championships in December televised.

To date, Munoz said the CPL has never had a drug-related incident, and that if illegal drug abuse is ever deemed to be a problem, the CPL will implement random drug testing. A pro gamer out of Australia commented, "I would say that at a tournament, perhaps as many as 20 percent of the players could be high on something."

Drug testing wouldn't be a hugely popular move. Almost every pro gamer interviewed knew at least a few people who toke up before a big match to calm their nerves. Given marijuana's popularity on the LAN scene, a training ground for the pro leagues, the CPL could lose a lot of players.

But, as Johnathan "Fatality" Wendel, currently the top-ranked Quake III player in the world, said, "It might make them clean up their act. Later on, when it's longer down the road, I think the CPL will have to drug test. If they want gaming to be known as a professional sport, it might be a good idea if they did."

Wendel, 20, follows a training regimen like most athletes -- at least 40 hours of practice during the week, a good night's sleep and a healthy breakfast on the big day. And no drugs or alcohol. "Some people do tell me they play better when they smoke pot; they tell me I'd play better if I smoked. But I'm already one of the best in the world, so why would I?" (Fatality is the first player to win over $100,000 in a year, and just signed a six-figure endorsement deal.)

When asked about the LAN party scene, the world's most accomplished Quake player sounded like every other kid in America. "With us it's Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew and then a run to Taco Bell or Wendy's."

Video games take in as much revenue as the domestic Hollywood box office gross, and arguably consume more of our time. But like other forms of entertainment, games on their own don't carry everyone far enough away from reality for their liking. For a pastime most often associated with loners and geeks, the arrival of a shared drug subculture in gaming indicates, for better or worse, the arrival of gaming as a mature and complex medium. In the '60s, proponents of the drug revolution in music assured us that "the kids are all right." Perhaps gamers will reassure us that they're all right, too.

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