This past weekend, I did what I (previously) never would have done - I sat down with the explicit intention to watch someone else play a game. I've said so many times in the past, but 'spectating' games on the whole really doesn't make sense to me. As the most interactive of all mediums, the concept of watching, entirely divorced from the 'interactive' aspect, is just not something that would click. I realize that's a pretty big contradiction to the world at large, as 'professional' gaming leagues have exploded in popularity, known as much for their spectatorship (if not moreso) as for the players themselves.
So, what could possibly possess me to watch a game, rather than playing it? One: it's a game that I play extensively myself, so I have a better-than-average grasp on its mechanics. Two: the run itself was world-record-caliber; literally, the end result was a new world record for score. And three: the guy doing it has to be the best kind of streamer, speedrunner or no - humble, appreciative, and naturally entertaining. What I ended up watching was the 7-hour world-record score run in Spelunky, broadcast by one 'Bananasaurus Rex' (for brevity's sake, I'll refer to him as 'BRex' from now on), a speedrunner known for one of (if not the) first solo eggplant runs, and a 5.5-minute hell run (both of which I had watched prior). And, as entertaining as all of it was, I pulled enough from all those videos to make the time spent well worth it.
Strictly speaking, these lessons aren't restricted exclusively to Spelunky, or even gaming in general, really. But digesting them in this form is nothing short of 'pretty damned awesome'.
Patience
In most skill-based games, the tendency is to execute as quickly as possible, as perfectly as possible. And really, it's no different in Spelunky; that's the entire reason speedruns exist. But this conflicts directly with patience, as rushing in without a moment's thought will lead to many an untimely (and avoidable) death. Taking your time is the way to go, even if it costs a few more seconds or minutes. Rushing headlong after an immediate goal - like that shiny, attractive pile of gold - means nothing if that spike pit does its job.
However, this is quite difficult when there's a time limit. In Spelunky, if you spend 2.5 minutes in a given level, a ghost appears that will kill you, instantly. It moves rather slowly, so with minimal equipment, a moderate amount of skill, and some planning, it can be avoided indefinitely. BRex certainly exercised this in the entire 7-hour run; even at a reasonably slow pace, traversing the game's typical 16-20 level run barely scratches an hour. Score runs, obviously, benefit from taking the extra time to extract all the treasure and equipment possible, and then surviving to the next level to extend it even more.
Decisive action
Particularly contradictory to patience, a real-time roguelike changes continously, and you need to constantly adapt yourself to suit. The situation can turn from perfect to impossible with one action - a mistimed jump, an unnoticed trap, a bad bomb throw, and even the environment reacting to itself. Taking the decisive action necessary to reverse or at least mitigate the situation is a key skill for anything. And Spelunky, as the platform roguelike it is, is full of chances for decisive action. The best part? One will invariably lead to another - keep your eyes open and mind clear to survive. Be patient and plan when you can, but act at a moment's notice when you must.
Take a breather
As is typical of real-time, screw-up-once-and-you're-dead games, adrenaline can fuel a great run...and it can just as easily ruin a great run. It's easy to get lost in the flow of a game, even (or especially) if it happens to be a very bad flow. Well-designed games (like Spelunky) leave the choice of the kind of flow entirely up to the player. Get too annoyed, too fired-up, and you're bound to make more mistakes. Between-round breathers, or even mid-level before particularly rough spots, mean the difference between losing in the next minute, or surviving to the end. Getting to Hell is hard enough, but it certainly doesn't help things to lose it on the first spike pit.
...and get a little lucky
And like all roguelikes, luck does play a factor, though certainly not as much as the others mentioned above - though rage may blind you. And even if you have bad luck, treat it as a great opportunity to turn bad situations into a practical exercise.
Getting, say, a plasma cannon in the very first crate certainly doesn't hurt your chances at a great run, but...take a breather to let the excitement die down, be patient in your use of the thing, and be prepared to take decisive action when you forget the crazy recoil it has. Oh, and don't fire it at a wall when you're standing right there, either - advice for everyone to live by.
