Harry Potter - Quidditch World Cup: The magical boyhood I never had

Before you rush to judgment, there is nothing gay about a bunch of British boarding school boys on broomsticks.

I went to boarding school myself for a while, and might not have been expelled had I been able to focus my teen angst on bludgers and quaffles. Instead they made me join the Cross Country team.

I would have killed for my parents to send me to Hogwarts! Even if I would have been sorted to fucking Hufflepuff. Instead, the closest I ever came to Defense Against the Dark Arts class was mandatory Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

But I digress- this game actually is pretty gay. And not because it lets you wiggle a magical piece of wood between Draco Malfoy's legs- it's gay in that forgot-my-gymclothes-again sort of way.

Make no mistake- that was me in highschool- but I expect more from a computer opponent than chatting with the fat girls out in left field and hoping the ball doesn't come their way.

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It would have been more challenging to go up against these guys.

After your first score, you just sidle up next to an opposing team member, tackle them to steal the ball and shoot it right back through one of the three wide open hoops. Tackle, shoot, repeat. Get over 150 points (it's hard not to get over 300) and you can take a drinking break during the snitch-catch phase.

Never having played the game in my life before, I should not be able to win the Quidditch Cup in 32 minutes without giving up a single goal.

I could have gone on for the World Cup, but why bother? I don't care how many new tricks they have- it's just tackle, shoot repeat.

But this one-trick pony only cost me $7.99 in trades. There was a line of idiot muggles waiting to throw down $60 and tax for the latest Madden and the closest that sports game comes to magic is real-time weather.