Editor’s note: The following is a continuing journal of a fictional college student. It is intended to be a humorous and enjoyable feature about an average Joe. Though written by Iowa State’s own Scott Jacobson, a Daily staff writer, people, places and events detailed below are not analogous to a real student.

So there I was, sitting wide-eyed and wired behind the steering wheel without a care in the world as to whom I ran into or the destruction I caused, when I realized I topped 200 mph the moment before I soared off a cliff and fell 500 feet to the water below.

Two minutes later, exhausted both mentally and emotionally, I reached into my pocket, grabbed three more quarters and started another round of the greatest video game known to man — Hydro Thunder.

It was 9 a.m. on Saturday morning of the Big 12 Tournament, and on any other morning, I’d be enjoying the warm comforts of my own bed. But for one weekend, all logic was thrown out the window to celebrate the hottest two teams in college basketball — the Iowa State Cyclones.

Saturday proved to be a marathon of hoops as the men played in the afternoon and the women played that night, so we decided to start things right with screwdrivers for breakfast.

Once we got to the local establishment, Eddie and Carl challenged Walt and Pablo to a game of cards, and I was left as the odd man out. Always hungry for adventure, I wandered toward the video games and tried to choose between Golden Tee and Hydro Thunder.

Since Golden Tee costs a few bucks to play a couple holes, I opted for a 75 cent run at Hydro Thunder.

There were two lines of reasoning behind my choice of video game that morning. First, I’m not that good of a golfer, and I always end up frustrated. I figured that I’d never raced boats past the Parthenon before, so I’d give it a whirl. Also, you just can’t slam into your opponent and scream “Hydro Thunder!” when you’re on the 18th green putting for triple bogie.

Two hours and several dollars later, I had raced my way up to third place in the Greek Isles. I was feeling pretty good about myself, but I was out of quarters.

When I returned from getting change, I was horrified at what I saw. Two guys had taken my spot in the driver’s seat and were racing through my course, abusing my boat. Bloody savages.

Well, it didn’t take long before pure boatsmanship took over, and I was cheering them on and sharing racing tips. Jump off of this bridge. Smash into that police boat from behind. Don’t hit the funny monkey. Pretty basic, everyday type of life lessons.

Well, it turns out that my new friends lived right there in Westport and had just stopped in for a few races. I mentioned in an offhand sort of way that I’ve always wanted to live in Kansas City. They asked what I wanted to do for a living. I told them either advertising or speedboat racing.

They told me they knew people who knew people who knew people. I asked if they could hook me up. They told me it was my turn to race. I told them they could have my turn. They told me they would hook me up.

An hour later, I had two new friends, a few different job prospects and $35 fewer in my pocket. All thanks to Hydro Thunder.

I was living large when I told my card-playing friends about my stroke of luck, but my emotional rollercoaster got blind-sided when Carl sat down and got second in his first attempt at Hydro Thunder and Pablo finished first after only two tries.

They had two of the top three places after less than three bucks, and I’d spent countless hours and quarters racing my way to the bronze.

Some might consider my hours spent behind the wheel as a waste of time and money, but I figure that if I end up landing a job in Kansas City, I can crown myself a winner in the game of life.

In fact, you can learn a lot from video games. Sometimes in life, you’ve got to see a cliff and just jump off it or be willing to challenge a formidable opponent to a duel.

Just make sure you scream “Hydro Thunder!” at the top of your lungs and watch out for the funny monkey.