The campaign, in hindsight, I could take or leave. It was the talk of the school of course. “In that last mission when you throw the knife into his eye, it’s so cool, woah,” was the vibe, and whilst there are unique and interesting perspectives on what the ultranationalist Russia invading the US represents in the real world, I was a silly kid with no real clue what was going on. What I do remember vividly? MW2’s multiplayer. It’s a complete and utter mess, and one I spent a ridiculous amount of time on. I knew those maps better than I knew my own hometown. Terminal was a genuine masterclass, and one I’m desperate to see revisited in the reboot of Modern Warfare, along with the iconic rooftops and secret passages of Highrise and the tight corners to navigate in Favela. Who could forget Rust, too? I was so happy when it got ported into the 2019 reboot, and revisiting the times my brother would absolutely rinse me with his quickscoping was a flipping delight. I like to think I’d beat him these days, to be honest. The guns in Modern Warfare 2 were fantastic as well. You had shotguns as secondary weapons, meaning whacking out the SPAS-12 with its ridiculous one-shot kill range was an extremely viable strategy. There was also the pre-patch Model 1887s, which completely broke the game for quite some time. You had the zero-recoil ACR, the silenced UMP-45 which felt so, so satisfying to use, and the absolute classic Intervention sniper rifle with its instantly recognisable zap-like sound effect. If you haven’t tried a trick-shots only game with the Intervention on Rust then I’m sorry. You haven’t lived. Modern Warfare 2 was my first ever goofy multiplayer shooty bang bang experience. Whether that’s a positive or a damning indictment? Depends on whether I’ve lost in Warzone on that particular day.
