When the West Called My Name
October 26, 2018.
That was the day a game finally pulled me in again—completely, utterly, hopelessly.
The last time that happened was June 22, 1996, when Quake by id Software stormed onto the scene and changed gaming forever.
Twenty-two years passed between those moments.
Sure, plenty of games filled the gap, but none truly captured me—heart, mind, and imagination—the way Red Dead Redemption 2 did. From the moment it launched, I was lost to its world.
By November 5th, 2018—after ten straight days of late nights, bleary-eyed rides, and countless adventures—I still hadn’t mastered one simple thing: how to ride my horse properly. The video I just shared is proof enough. Even now, I have a bad habit of running my poor horses into the ground. Sorry, fellas.
Naturally, every one of them is named after one of our cats—because of course they are.
And now, seven years later, I still find myself returning to that world. Sometimes I just mount up, wander the wilderness, and lose myself in a bit of hunting or quiet reflection. It’s still the perfect place to clear my head when life gets too loud.
Even in that vast, quiet world, it only took a single conversation—and a little nudge from fate—to pull me back into the saddle.
Blame It on Stuart (and My Wife)
I blame my friend Stuart. And my wife. (More on that in a moment.)
Stuart had gone camping that week, and I don’t remember exactly why we were texting, but somewhere in the conversation, he mentioned he’d hooked his Xbox up to the local campground Wi-Fi. It was crawling.
I said, “Dude, why? You’re not camping—you’re glamping!”
He laughed and said he wasn’t really planning to use it. He just wanted Red Dead Redemption 2 to start pre-loading so it’d be ready on launch day.
I told my wife that story, and she said, “Dude, YOU need to get that. I think that’s the game that’s going to pull you back into gaming again. It’s right up your alley.”
So I did.
And you know what? She was right. (Just like she is about most things—but don’t tell her I said that.)
Holy hell, after just a few hours, I was hooked. I spent the second or third day hunting rabbits for hours. Why? No idea—it was just fun. I was out there whispering, “Be vewy, vewy kwuyet, I’m hunting bunny wabbits,” in my best Elmer Fudd voice.
By day five, I decided to go fishing—something I never seem to have time for in real life but somehow always find time for in a virtual one. Except that it didn’t go well. Because of the bear. The goddamned bear. Screw that guy.
By day seven, I was just riding around aimlessly, exploring. Occasionally I’d remind myself, “Oh right, there’s an actual story in this game… maybe I should do a quest.” But then I’d think, “Nah, let’s see if I can ride my horse off this cliff.”
Note: I didn’t do it. By then, I had named him Dooders, after our oldest cat at the time. I couldn’t do that to Dooders.
But poor Dooders. By day ten, I still couldn’t ride without slamming into a building. And when I did manage to dismount and hitch him properly, a startled buck came out of nowhere and trampled me in the middle of Valentine. I proceeded to pull out my rifle and shoot and skin him. That will teach him.
Moments like that might frustrate other players, but for me, that’s the magic of Red Dead Redemption 2. It’s unpredictable. It’s chaotic. And that’s exactly what makes it brilliant.
For all the chaos and comedy, beneath it all was a story that ran deeper than I ever expected—a tale that would stay with me long after the last ride.
Echoes from the Frontier
Even after all these years, I won’t spoil the ending for you. But my gods… they knew exactly how to hit you right in the feels.
Red Dead Redemption 2 isn’t just a game—it’s a story that lingers, one that etches itself into your memory like the fading light over the plains. I could gush for hours about its writing, its characters, and the countless lines that still echo in my head.
Like this one:
I guess I’m not the only one who felt that way—judging by the countless clips, remixes, and reaction videos across YouTube, that single line hit home for a lot of people. It’s one of those rare moments that transcends the game itself. You can feel the weight of it—the sorrow, the beauty, the inevitability. It’s impactful in a way few stories ever manage. And of course, that line was in the trailer just a few moments before. Go figure.
The entire main story, the side quests, even the moments of pure chaos—they all kept me and my friend Stuart completely hooked. We were living parallel lives in that world, trading stories of gunfights, chance encounters, and emotional gut punches like two travelers around a campfire.
I’ll never forget when he finished the main story before I did. A couple of days earlier, I got a text:
“Where are you at in the story? What chapter?”
I told him, and his reply came quick:
“Okay… prepare yourself. I just finished the main story, and man… oh man.”
I remember just staring at my phone, bracing myself for whatever was coming. And then it happened.
That ending.
That song.
“May I stand unshaken…”
What an experience. It wasn’t just the conclusion of a story—it felt like the closing of a chapter in my own life.
And just when I thought I was done, Rockstar dropped something that would pull me right back into the saddle again.
Posse Up, Ride Out
November 27, 2018 — Red Dead Online was released.
I was so damn eager for that day to arrive. After finishing the main story, I could only imagine what it would be like to step into that same world with friends—to forge our own legends across the frontier. Holy hell, it was time to posse up. And posse up we did.
I lost count of how many nights we spent online—riding through moonlit canyons, chasing bounties, defending our camps, and occasionally starting (or ending) a few bar fights in Valentine. Rival gangs would come gunning for us, and somehow it always ended in laughter, chaos, and screenshots that looked straight out of a Western film.
Those were good days. The kind of nights where the real world faded away, replaced by the sound of hooves, gunfire, and the hum of friendship through a headset.
But, as it often does, life rode in and changed course. Responsibilities, work, and the storms of reality pulled me away for a while. In fact, it was those very changes that eventually led me down another path entirely—one that became the heart of my Prove Life Wrong™ movement.
(If you’re curious, you can read about that journey here: https://owtt.net/plw/)
Still, writing about it now stirs that familiar itch to saddle up again. Hey Stuart—time to form the posse once more.
And just when it seemed like our ride had come to an end, Rockstar had one more surprise waiting on the horizon…
A New Frontier — The PC Release
November 5, 2019.
The day Red Dead Redemption 2 finally rode onto PC.
Up until then, I hadn’t really invested in any serious gaming hardware. My main machine was built for one thing and one thing only—music production (music.krichie.com). The best gaming rig in the house actually belonged to my wife—she’s the true gamer queen around here.
But for Red Dead Redemption 2 on PC? I had to make an exception. I had to upgrade.
And, of course, the moment I did, I realized it wouldn’t be fair if she didn’t have an equal setup. So naturally, one graphics card became two. I upgraded mine… and then hers. Because that’s how harmony (and marital balance) works in this household.
Now, I’ll admit something sacrilegious—I’m not coordinated enough for mouse and keyboard gaming. Never have been. So yes, I plugged in a controller to my shiny new setup. Go ahead, judge me. My motto? Fail. Respawn. Repeat.
Even now, I still haven’t played through the main story on PC. Maybe it’s time I finally do that. But even without finishing it again, I can tell you this much: holy hell, what an experience. Seeing those landscapes in high detail—the fog rolling over the swamps, the sunlight cutting through the trees—it’s breathtaking.
And when I hooked it up to my studio audio system, that’s when the magic really happened. That’s when the soundtrack revealed its true power.
Next, we step into that sound—the music that turned every sunrise, gunfight, and farewell into something unforgettable.
The Sound of the Frontier
Of course, I had to own the soundtrack on vinyl. There was no question about it.
The moment it arrived, I set it on the turntable, lifted the tonearm, and dropped the needle. That faint crackle before the first note? Pure magic. And then—those sounds. The haunting strings, the lonely guitars, the deep, sorrowful hum of the American frontier.
It’s one thing to hear the soundtrack while you’re riding across the in-game plains, dust swirling around your horse’s hooves and the sun melting into the horizon. But it’s something else entirely to hear it echo through a room—to feel it in your chest. Every note carries that same sense of longing, loss, and quiet triumph that made the story so unforgettable.
Red Dead Redemption 2 isn’t just a game you play—it’s one you feel. And its soundtrack is the heartbeat that makes that possible.
I won’t go too deep into the score here; it deserves its own spotlight in my upcoming Composer’s Lens series. So if you’re as captivated by soundtracks as I am, be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss when that episode drops.
But I will say this: hearing it on vinyl, surrounded by the faint glow of the studio lights, I was reminded why music—just like storytelling—has the power to transport us to other worlds.
And of course, I HAD to do a cover of That’s the way it is, in my own flair of course.
And speaking of worlds… there’s one last piece of this story I have to share—the moment that brought it all full circle.
Final Thoughts
Somewhere between a birthday and Christmas—time blurs a bit when life moves fast—my wife and daughter completely surprised me. They handed me a box, wrapped just enough to hide its secrets but heavy enough to spark curiosity.
Inside was the Red Dead Redemption 2 Collector’s Box.
It didn’t even include the game itself—just the treasures inspired by it: the metal tithing box, the deck of playing cards, the bandana, the collectible coins, all packed with the same care and attention to detail that Rockstar poured into the world of the game. You can take a look at it here.
It became one of the most cherished pieces in my collection—not just because of what it was, but because of who it came from. My wife and daughter knew exactly what it meant to me. They’d seen the way I spoke about the game, the way I’d get lost in the music, and the way I’d talk about the characters like they were old friends. That box wasn’t just a gift—it was a reminder of how well they knew me.
And truth be told, Red Dead Redemption 2 is still, to this day, my favorite game of all time. Few titles have ever matched its depth, artistry, or emotional weight. From its jaw-dropping visuals to its breathtaking sound design, it redefined what storytelling in a video game could be.
Critics and players alike called it a masterpiece—a living, breathing world of tragedy and beauty. IGN gave it a 10/10. Metacritic crowned it one of the highest-rated games of its generation. It swept awards for narrative, music, and performance, and yet… none of that fully captures what it feels like to play it.
Because for me, Red Dead Redemption 2 isn’t just about Arthur Morgan or the Van der Linde gang. It’s about connection—between friends, family, and the worlds we escape to when we need to breathe again. It’s about finding moments of quiet beauty amid the chaos, and remembering that sometimes the greatest adventures are the ones we share.
I don’t saddle up as often as I used to, but maybe it’s time to change that. Maybe it’s time to start fresh on PC, to see the story through one more time with older eyes and a deeper appreciation for every detail.
And if you’re a gamer who somehow hasn’t played it yet—do it. Step into that world. Lose yourself in its dust, its danger, and its heart. And when you’ve seen all there is to see, gather your posse for one final ride into the sunset.
Until we ride again.
Ketih aka Maestoso.