Most of you should know what I mean, but the essence of Chicago-style multiplayer gaming, to me, is just simply this: Live to Grief. The converse wouldn't even hold, because even dying is but a small price to pay for a good rage-inducing grief. So share your stories of multiplayer assholery! Share them, I say. For only a Chicago-style gamer can truly understand (or perhaps even tolerate) another Chicago-style gamer.
I shall start. Need For Speed, the first - PS1: My brother is a racing aficionado, so he was attracted to this (surprisingly playable) EA racer. As was I, for the collision physics were positively exquisite. It was technically a 'racing' game, but for me, it was a griefing game. More specifically, a fishtailing game. Winning meant nothing to me. My only goal in playing Need For Speed 1 was to slowly push the back of the opponent's car to the side with my hood, until his racing line dissolved into a glorious fishtailing spinout. So satisfying. And that is what the game became about for us. He would try to win by racing, and I would be attempting to spin him out at every step. One of the earliest examples of asymmetrical multiplayer, you might say. And, sure, a particularly good fishtail might have resulted in my victory, which would allow for a nice bout of trash-talking, but what it was really about for me was the pleasure of the corruption and destruction of the earnest efforts of another. Because, yes, good guys should finish last.