People love video games because they do things they obviously

Hearken, O seekers of insight, and attend the words of Ralph H. Baer, the sage of interactive delight, who proclaimed: “People love video games because they do things they obviously can't do in real life. That's especially true with sports games because fans love to step into the shoes of their favorite athletes.” In these words lies a profound truth: that human imagination longs to transcend limitation, to experience valor, skill, and triumph beyond the bounds of ordinary life, and that through simulation and play, we encounter a reflection of our own potential.

The origin of this insight rests in Baer’s life as the inventor of the video game, the architect of worlds where possibility is unbound by circumstance. He understood that the human spirit craves agency—the ability to act, compete, and excel in ways that reality may deny. Sports games, in particular, allow one to inhabit the life of a champion, to feel the pulse of competition, and to taste the triumph of athletic mastery without leaving the hearth. In this, the virtual becomes a mirror of desire, an altar upon which imagination and aspiration meet.

Consider the story of Pele, whose exploits on the field inspired generations. Not all could run with his speed, maneuver with his grace, or strike with his precision. Yet through the games that bear his name and likeness, millions have stepped into his shoes, experiencing the exhilaration of his genius. Baer’s words reveal that video games extend the ancient human practice of vicarious heroism, allowing one to partake in deeds otherwise impossible, and in so doing, to awaken courage, skill, and joy.

The ancients understood this impulse as well. In Greek amphitheaters, spectators thrilled to tales of Odysseus and Achilles, imagining themselves in battles of wit and valor. Children practiced mock duels with sticks, and young warriors honed their skills in controlled contests. All these acts were forerunners of the modern joy of simulation and imaginative enactment, demonstrating that the yearning to “step into another’s shoes” is as old as humanity itself.

Yet Baer also reminds us that the appeal of sports games is uniquely tied to admiration. Fans do not merely play; they aspire. They internalize the discipline, strategy, and heroism of their idols, even if only in a virtual sense. This duality—play and admiration—enriches both mind and heart, allowing the participant to learn vicariously, to feel the thrill of achievement, and to cultivate an understanding of excellence, teamwork, and perseverance.

From this reflection, a lesson emerges: seek experiences that stretch the imagination and awaken aspiration. Whether through games, storytelling, or study, place yourself in the shoes of those who embody courage, skill, and creativity. Through vicarious engagement, one may expand empathy, understanding, and ambition, learning lessons that transcend the boundaries of the real world while enriching one’s own life.

Practical action follows naturally: engage with endeavors that challenge imagination, observe and emulate excellence in role models, and embrace opportunities to learn through simulation, play, or practice. Allow the virtual or symbolic to inspire real-world growth, cultivating skill, strategy, and creativity in every domain of life. In doing so, one harnesses both joy and education in service of personal development.

Thus, let the words of Ralph H. Baer endure: the power of games lies not in the device, but in the human desire to transcend limitation. Step boldly into imagined worlds, inhabit the shoes of heroes, and let the lessons of virtual triumph illuminate the path of real achievement, bridging the boundary between imagination and reality, play and mastery.