IF you saw the gnome warrior Hackbucket hoofing crazily over snowy mountains, don't think badly of him.
And if you spotted him running away like a coward from doing battle, don't be too judgemental.
It was all he could do.
Hackbucket is a character on the World of Warcraft fantasy computer game, played, some say compulsively, by millions of young people worldwide. And I can't help feeling sorry for him.
That's because, while other dwarves, gnomes, orcs, elves etc are controlled by skilful young computer players with the keyboard skills of Jools Holland on Red Bull, poor old Hackbucket is controlled by a duffer with sausage fingers. Me.
And, what's worse, I didn't read the instructions.
I am not a complete computer buffoon, having used them, contentedly, for 20 years. I'm not the sort, for example, who thinks that to boot up a computer requires the skill of Jonny Wilkinson or who asks for a mouse mat compatible with Windows XP.
But the last time I spent any time playing on a computer game it involved two ping-pong paddles on a screen. And that was before Queen had their first number one.
Nor am I too familiar with games involving arguing against stubborn trolls (although some say this is not so different to our daily editorial conference).
Still, there are some things a middle-aged man has to cope with in the modern techno-world... and I was getting flummoxed by my daughter, Tam, saying: "Sorry I couldn't answer the phone, I was in a battle."
So, before going home from her last visit, she downloaded for me a 10-day World of Warcraft trial. Game on.
Alone, I entered the fantasy land of Azeroth, where thousands of young people play simultaneously.
As fantasy worlds go, it's a pretty impressive place. You control your orcs, night elves, humans and other creatures you've created and go on adventures, killing ogres (as you do), battling with beardies (no, not folk singers or social workers), forming friendships and fulfilling curious quests.
That first day I jumped into the game like a fool and created the gnome Hackbucket... without reading a single line about how to play. The way we men of a certain age do.
But, to start, the only action I could get poor old Hackbucket to perform was to run. And run.
And boy did he run.
The little fellow was running, you won't be surprised to hear, when Pobet, a mean, ugly monster if ever I saw one, appeared on screen and challenged him to a fight.
Rashly, I accepted on poor H's behalf... and quickly realised that I hadn't a clue how to operate his sword to attack. So I did what I had to. I made Hackbucket run.
We hoofed it for 2.5 sec- onds before cocky Pobet, controlled, I suspect, by an arrogant swine with no respect for age, hacked down pale Hackbucket who became a ghost.
Before you ring the NSPCGnomes you will be relieved to know that Hack revived and has since found his weapon arm.
He is now, I'm proud to say, a Level 3 Gnome Warrior, having completed initial quests, such as slaying wolves and wild boars, and earned a swanky pair of wolf-leather trousers along the way. That's Level 3 out of um,70 levels.
But whereas my daughter Tam and her partner Tom - both top level questers - were headhunted by other players to belong to an elite guild and have online World of Warcraft friends far and wide, I posted messages on-screen to other players... that no one bothered to answer.
Hackbucket remains a proud but lonely gnome.
And there is one important quest I must complete before our 10-day World of Warcraft trial runs out.
Finding those flipping instructions.
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