Nov. 19, 2006 — a day that shall go down in sports history.

With just a week before the release of the Playstation 3, I had my mind made up.

After months of sacrificing expensive romantic endeavors, I had accumulated just over $600 — enough to purchase the PS3 from a local Bay Area electronics retailer.

I swear, I was like a kid at Christmas. All my friends criticized me for deciding to spend so much money on the Sony console, as well as choosing to sit outside Best Buy 17 hours in advance for a crack at the wonderbox. But encouraging words from my priest reassured me.

That was until I called Best Buy at noon, the day before the Playstation’s launch.

“Yeah, don’t even bother showing up,” the underpaid store associate told me. “Some people are already bloodied. Others had milkshakes thrown at them.”

I called other stores, but the response didn’t change. My hopes for a PS3 went up in flames quicker than Michael Richards’ career. But Thanksgiving break was creeping up quickly, and I needed something to keep me entertained while I stayed on campus with little company for an entire week.

Little did I know that I would soon find company in an old friend, a little guy who had never before visited the land of Hyrule: Link.

Yes, I purchased a Nintendo Wii, and it was quite possibly the smartest decision of my life. After mustering up enough cash for the system, an extra controller, an extra “numchuck,” two games and a three-year warranty, I still had an extra $150 left over from the original $600.

It wasn’t until my friends and I cracked open the box that we realized the sheer magnitude of Nintendo’s latest invention. We spent a good day waving the completely interactive, wireless controllers and looking like complete idiots in the process.

All within the comfort of my room, I was returning serves with a backhand, knocking home runs, collecting a hole in one and tossing a Hail Mary to Marvin Harrison. And between all of it, I was still able to break for a sip of Pepsi.

My mind wandered off as I thought of the possibilities for this new technology. I dreamt of the day Nintendo would launch FIFA 2008 on the console with some sort of controller extension for one’s foot.

My friends and I would never have to deal with employees at Burnham Pavilion kicking us soccer players out for wearing black-soled shoes — despite basketball players wearing the same every day without reprimand. But that’s another story for another day.

I’ll be able to hurl like future pitching bust Daisuke Matsuzaka or set like Bryn Kehoe — truly the nation’s greatest volleyball setter, thank you very much, ESPN. I’ll be able to beat up Notre Dame’s secondary like John David Booty or force a tie with Chelsea as a kicker for Manchester United.

Just like LaDainian Tomlinson preps for a game by lifting fifty-pound dumbbells, I’ll be able to condition for a game of Madden by lifting a four-ounce controller.

Perhaps this technological revolution could even play a hand in fighting childhood obesity, a national epidemic that receives too little attention. For once, kids will have to get off their couch to finish that dungeon in “Zelda” or toss some webbing as Spiderman in “Marvel: Ultimate Alliance.”

The Wii may indeed be ushering in a new era of indoor athletics — full of hand waving and pivots — and with it a sense of physical accomplishment for video-game geeks everywhere. I must admit my newfound confidence in my physical ability to wave my hand and pivot has driven me to heights I could never have imagined beforehand. Yes, I’m talking about winning a boxing match, and that’s sure to impress the ladies, just as if I were Andrew Barragan.

Nov. 28, 2006 — a day that shall go down in history for when I admitted that I need a life. But at least this geek will be able to look proudly at his strong hands.

Andrew Lomeli is a sophomore. Let him know about your best Wii adventures at alomeli@stanford.edu.