The existence of different players
The growth of microtransactions from the NBA 2K series contrasts the rising tumult of this real-life NBA offseason. This season, NBA MT Coins Sports had to change NBA 2K19's cover after a blockbuster trade place its cover athlete in another uniform. To better catch that expanding disarray in the league's offices, NBA 2K19 presents a story to its franchise mode, MyGM. A participant -- your created MyPlayer, specifically -- suffers a career-ending knee accident and later takes up the reins as general manager. Trade Kyrie Irving off or place him in another position; that's the crux of a group GM gig, with a hint of occasional internal team drama involved. It's a stretch to call it a story mode since the menu does, but minor expansions to MyGM contain dialogue exchanges and participant interactions new to NBA 2K19.
Not only is there a story in MyGM, there's nevertheless a bevy of MyPlayer options. Rather than invite Spike Lee to guide MyCareer (because he did back in NBA 2K16), NBA 2K19's approach settles down, focusing on the turbulent rookie year of former road baller DJ. It is largely satirical toward locker room culture, a reprieve from the thick drama of Madden NFL 18's Longshot or even previous years old NBA 2K. For example, DJ's agent isn't a lot of one, but he does have a catchphrase: "Eat what you kill." The characters don't appear to understand what that means (and they say), but NBA 2K19 runs with it to the humor.
When playing as DJ, you are going to encounter NBA 2K19's "The Neighborhood." Think about it a hub of activity for DJ's career. At a MMO-lite twist, it is possible to walk round with numerous (hundreds, possibly, if servers fill up) of additional player-controlled DJs, playing pickup games, trading scores at minigames or socializing. The existence of different players is normally pointless outside of light competition, however; I ended up only ignoring the audience.
I soon realized The Neighborhood just replaces NBA 2K19's core menu. In that sense, it is merely a clumsy way to browse. Desire a haircut? Walk the cube into the barbershop. Want to change clothes? Go home. Need new shoes? Jog down to Foot Locker. Looking to catch a quick pickup game? The courtroom is down the street on the left.
Plodding as this navigation is, there's a bit of character and culture indoors. At the barbershop, DJ is served like a local celebrity while they chat about general gossip. The friendly (if sleepy) attendant of a food cart brings in some laughs. These spaces will also be well decorated, cramped and flush with old brick buildings circa 1930s New York. It is a powerful representation of the impoverished to lower-middle-class upbringing of NBA stars who got their start in areas like Harlem's Rucker Park.
On the other hand, The Neighborhood can be sullied by corporate patrons. A little gentrification from the old neighborhood? Maybe. Nevertheless, it is not just a Foot Locker place sitting on a corner or Gatorade-sponsored fitness center. The owners of the barbershop present DJ using a gift, JBL headphones, of which DJ chimes in, "Are these the newest JBLs?" Gatorade is a fundamental part of the narrative, called out from the broadcast team during games as much as it is advertised during gym training sessions (purchasing virtual bottles of Gatorade for stamina includes a spiel about electrolytes).
Selling a bit of ad space -- even overdone ad space -- isn't inherently problematic. It's emblematic of an online-connected era. There's an authenticity in rotating courtside banner ads and between-play chatter from the announcers, changing as the year goes on with new patrons biking in. The insistence on using Virtual Money (NBA 2K19 MT Coins) for everything compounds the matter, however. NBA 2K19 would like you to drink Gatorade, but it's also interested in getting you to spend more actual money in the sport.
Not only is there a story in MyGM, there's nevertheless a bevy of MyPlayer options. Rather than invite Spike Lee to guide MyCareer (because he did back in NBA 2K16), NBA 2K19's approach settles down, focusing on the turbulent rookie year of former road baller DJ. It is largely satirical toward locker room culture, a reprieve from the thick drama of Madden NFL 18's Longshot or even previous years old NBA 2K. For example, DJ's agent isn't a lot of one, but he does have a catchphrase: "Eat what you kill." The characters don't appear to understand what that means (and they say), but NBA 2K19 runs with it to the humor.
When playing as DJ, you are going to encounter NBA 2K19's "The Neighborhood." Think about it a hub of activity for DJ's career. At a MMO-lite twist, it is possible to walk round with numerous (hundreds, possibly, if servers fill up) of additional player-controlled DJs, playing pickup games, trading scores at minigames or socializing. The existence of different players is normally pointless outside of light competition, however; I ended up only ignoring the audience.
I soon realized The Neighborhood just replaces NBA 2K19's core menu. In that sense, it is merely a clumsy way to browse. Desire a haircut? Walk the cube into the barbershop. Want to change clothes? Go home. Need new shoes? Jog down to Foot Locker. Looking to catch a quick pickup game? The courtroom is down the street on the left.
Plodding as this navigation is, there's a bit of character and culture indoors. At the barbershop, DJ is served like a local celebrity while they chat about general gossip. The friendly (if sleepy) attendant of a food cart brings in some laughs. These spaces will also be well decorated, cramped and flush with old brick buildings circa 1930s New York. It is a powerful representation of the impoverished to lower-middle-class upbringing of NBA stars who got their start in areas like Harlem's Rucker Park.
On the other hand, The Neighborhood can be sullied by corporate patrons. A little gentrification from the old neighborhood? Maybe. Nevertheless, it is not just a Foot Locker place sitting on a corner or Gatorade-sponsored fitness center. The owners of the barbershop present DJ using a gift, JBL headphones, of which DJ chimes in, "Are these the newest JBLs?" Gatorade is a fundamental part of the narrative, called out from the broadcast team during games as much as it is advertised during gym training sessions (purchasing virtual bottles of Gatorade for stamina includes a spiel about electrolytes).
Selling a bit of ad space -- even overdone ad space -- isn't inherently problematic. It's emblematic of an online-connected era. There's an authenticity in rotating courtside banner ads and between-play chatter from the announcers, changing as the year goes on with new patrons biking in. The insistence on using Virtual Money (NBA 2K19 MT Coins) for everything compounds the matter, however. NBA 2K19 would like you to drink Gatorade, but it's also interested in getting you to spend more actual money in the sport.
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