pasternakski -> (8/30/2002 2:33:48 PM)
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[QUOTE]Originally posted by Drongo [B]Posted by Pasternakski I don't have a problem with pommie bashing.:) You have a totally valid point but when you look through the forums, individual players obviously don't feel it's nonsense. I wonder whether the problem simply lies in the fact that, for one of the few times, players are dealing with a company that does listen and are prepared to respond. It's not surprising that many players will push their wish lists and game tweaks. In their opinion, it would just make the game that much better (and the sooner, the better). There's not a lot you can do (except remind them from time to time, as you have, about the benefits of patience). I get sick of the priggish posturing too (except when its mine) but in a public game forum, it comes with the territory. Maybe we should add a new forum that is dedicated specifically to it (wishlist). [/B][/QUOTE] Your comments are perfect. Thank you from another priggish posturer. I am acutely aware that UV is a flawed gem, if gem it is. All I know is that it plays, and I enjoy playing it, both against its AI and against the few PBEM pals I have (and am accumulating through these forums). I like, and look for, those threads and comments that seek to improve the game. I have started some and contributed to others. I hope that they will continue, and continue to be heard by Matrix/2by3. Last night, at 11:00 p.m., I was about to shut off my computer after having just launched a two transport TF amphibious assault against Port Moresby (sc17, against AI, 7/14/42). I had been running bombardment TFs against PM as often as I could out of Rabaul and hitting the place with LBA attacks every day. My carriers were busy blasting away and watching out for USN countermoves. Life was good. Just prior to flopping over to catch my eight hours of beauty sleep before marching off to work to generate tax revenues in support of the currently nonexistent offensive against Iraq and other formerly unheralded places, I noticed that Rabaul was out of fuel. Oops. I had forgotten that my ships run on fuel rather than stardust, crepes suzettes, or trompes l'oeieul, and had made no provision for regular resupply of this commodity from Truk. As a result, the mighty carriers of the Imperial Japanese Navy were sitting at anchor with about enough fuel to ignite a quarter ounce of potpourri on a dry day. The crews of my mighty, Long Lance equipped surface ships played water polo in the tidal pools of the tropical paradise known as Rabaul. I said nasty things to myself about myself, but shut the one-eyed monster down because I was the boss and had to get some sleep to be at my best for the company tomorrow (The Dow Jones Air Force was bombing the **** out of us again). By noon, I couldn't stand it. I had to burn 4 hours of vacation time because I COULDN'T STAND THE SUSPENSE! I drove home (running over any number of Toyotas, Audis, and other American-made cars) and fired 'er up. Sixteen hours and several deliberate assaults later, Port Moresby was mine, and , believe me, it wasn't easy. Gimme dis. Don't gimme debate. I love this game. Don't kill it.
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