Mortal Kombat 11 Has the Best Fighting Game Tutorial Ever

At some point fighting games stopped being just fighting games. Instead of just mastering a fighter’s moveset and internalizing the speed and rhythm of a game, players realized there was a deeper, almost imperceptible level to fighting games that, when mastered, would give them a huge advantage over their opponents. They learned how to cancel moves and read frame data, effectively peering through the game and into the code that created it. They developed techniques that then inspired developers making new fighting games, creating a feedback loop that split the player base into two camps: the mass of intermittent players who might pick up a fighting game for fun and only know what the game explicitly tells you, and the small group of dedicated combatants who use their arcane knowledge of the game’s inner workings to dominate those other fools.
I’m one of those fools, if you can’t tell.
I’ve been playing fighting games about as long as they’ve existed. Other than getting the high score on a Yie Ar Kung-Fu machine at a Mr. Gatti’s pizza at some point during the Reagan years, I’ve never been particularly good at them. I’m the kind of player who learns all the moves and combos for my favorite character, and then get destroyed by my friends whose only strategy is mashing buttons as quickly as possible. I can handle the computer on lower difficulties, but I’m hopeless against real competition unless they’re also trying to figure the game out. And as bad as I am against the button mashers, I’m catastrophically worse when I go up against somebody who knows that secret language of fighting games. If you can count frames and are looking for some perfect rounds, you better hope I wind up on the other side of your online match.
I assumed it would be the same with Mortal Kombat 11. I’d go through my typical routine with a new fighting game: I’d rush through the tutorial just to get the basics down, and then play through the story mode until I hit a wall about three-fourths of the way through. I’d bash my head against that wall over and over for a few days, and then either turn the difficulty down (if that’s even an option) or give up entirely. And I would only go online when I felt the need to just get absolutely embarrassed by a stranger.