If you're like me then you hate being told how to do something; especially if it's something you are good at. There's probably not a single person on this planet who enjoys being told in meticulous detail how to perform a task, and yet despite this there are so many people who are content to do just that. Well let me tell you something: you don't need to tell a surgeon how to fix internal organs, you don't need to tell a fireman which way water comes out of a hose, and when it comes to video games; you don't need to tell a field medic how to keep his team alive! My role in games is not particularly difficult. I focus on keeping my enemies in sight, and my allies in the fight. There are many different names for those who undertake this passive yet vitally important role, but there is one name that spans every genre of game, and every jargon of in-game vocabulary. I am a support, and while I prefer to maintain an air of modesty, I can say with great pride and confidence: “there is no one better to have at your back!” Yet despite the satisfaction I get from my role, it is not without its trials. The games I partake in are merciless, and a single accident could land you within the cold heartless void that is the respawn room. Naturally the average players will deflect their rage against the machine at players like myself, and honestly I do not blame them. After all my teammate is no longer alive, and it is my duty as a support to keep him alive. However as any support (myself included) will tell you: “if you're not helping the team, you're not worth helping.” A cruel motto to be sure, but one that we must abide by lest we find ourselves lulled to the eternal slumber ourselves. By following this mindset you quickly learn to drown out the noise that is your teammate's red hot aggression. If anything giving your teammates a source of anger ventilation is simply one more job on your ever growing list of duties. None the less it is