Brian Phillips explains to the rest of the world:
It's clearly the greatest video game ever created. On every page, at every moment, there's something odd or wrong, and yet the hours melt away like you're in an anesthetic sleep. The different phases of the game each seem to light up a different part of your brain, only it's as if the developers realized at some point that the entire human brain can be broken down into Shopping, Name Recognition, and Chess. What makes it feel real is that, within its insanely wide scope, it generates a weird, squabbly, unpredictable world, a world which — unlike in most video games — you have only a limited power to control. You tried pushing your wingers forward to steal a late goal, and the opposing left back shattered your guy's femur? See him in seven months. You want to sign a player, but his agent hates your personality? You are out of luck, forever. The story keeps unspooling and unspooling, and because none of it's scripted, and a lot of it doesn't even involve you, it seems to have its own rules and not to care very much how you feel about them. It's a database, but it wants you to think it's a millionaire.