Pop-up ads following you? Try this.

 I really dislike pop-up ads.

I’m just trying to look at the weather on my phone and out of nowhere, this giant box makes its presence known by covering the entire screen. Mockingly, it hides whether or not I need an umbrella or suntan lotion.

“You must deal with me first!” it screams as it holds me hostage until the time is up or I can find that tiny little X or “close” button that is so cleverly hidden. With all of the self-control known to mankind, I keep from yeeting the phone across the room.

Let’s face it: being socially awkward is kind of like being stuck with a pop-up ad that follows you around all day.

You try to close it, ignore it, or pretend it’s not there—but it just keeps popping back up during small talk, group settings, or when (heaven forbid) someone makes eye contact from across the room.

For many of us, especially teens and young adults, navigating social interactions can feel like trying to do a trust fall with no one behind you.

And in an age where “liking” someone means double-tapping their picture and when conversations happen via memes and emojis, the idea of meaningful, in-person connection has become, well… kind of intimidating.

If we’re honest, loneliness is a quiet beast.

Howard Cosell, Al Michaels or Marv Albert don’t get behind the mic announce that it’s approaching. No early warning sirens go off. Loneliness just creeps in subtly. One missed invite, one awkward silence, one ghosted group chat at a time. 

But, social isolation doesn’t always mean you're alone. Sometimes, it means you're surrounded by people but feel like a character in a cutscene you can’t interact with.

The tough part? Social awkwardness and isolation feed each other. Awkwardness makes it harder to connect, and isolation makes awkwardness worse. It’s a loop. A respawn cycle you didn’t ask to be part of.

Now, imagine this: you're sitting across from someone who also just got pwned in Super Smash Bros by a 10-year-old with the reflexes of a caffeinated squirrel. You look at each other, shrug, and suddenly you're both laughing. Boom—connection made.

Inperson gaming is this magical middle ground where you don’t have to start some awkward conversation. Instead, you can start with something like “You ready to get cooked?” or “You hit me with that red shell, didn’t you?” or “Do you want to party up?”

Slingshot Esports is here to be that magical middle ground for players. No matter what your age is, you have a home in our safe haven gaming center. 

See, gaming—especially in-person—isn’t just about screens and controllers.

It’s about the beautiful magic that happens when people sit side by side, sharing a mission, a boss fight, or just a good old-fashioned button-mashing battle. It’s structured enough to give anxious minds a script, yet spontaneous enough to let real personalities peek through.

Inperson gaming creates a low-pressure environment where social skills can develop naturally. 

For those who find traditional interactions nerve-wracking, this is huge. You're not forced to make eye contact or carry a conversation with awkward pauses. You're just simply doing what you like to do alongside someone else doing what they like to do. This is the moment when the clouds open up, a beam of light shines down, and angelic voices begin to sing.

And in that, the barriers begin to fall.

Friendships that feel impossible in a classroom or other group setting suddenly become doable when you’re strategizing in Fortnite, building in Minecraft, or racing neck-and-neck in Mario Kart. 

You bond over wins, losses, snacks, inside jokes, and the universal language of “OH NOOOOOOO” when you accidentally jump off the map.

Here's the best part: in-person gaming helps people realize they’re not alone.

It reminds them that it’s okay to be a little awkward, a little weird, and a little unsure. Because the player next to them probably feels the same way. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll walk away from the console not just having had fun—but having made a friend.

At its core, gaming together is about shared experience.

It’s the antidote to isolation.

It’s proof that you don’t need to be the life of the party to enjoy being at the party. Sometimes, all you need is a controller, a second player, and a space that says “Hey, you're welcome here. Exactly as you are.”

Whether it's at our gaming center, a church basement with an old Xbox, or your friend’s living room with snacks and a Switch—these spaces matter. They become the unexpected places where courage is practiced, confidence is built, and connection is formed.

Because at the end of the day, the real win isn’t just the high score—it’s the moment someone who felt invisible suddenly feels seen.

Make the connection:

How might we use inperson gaming to create an environment where social skills can develop naturally?

What’s been your experience with this? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!