Ingress is a game by the same company that made Pokemon Go with the same concept: visit places IRL to capture them ingame. In Ingress, nearly every action (with its IRL location) is broadcast on the world map; this leads to stalking, nerds coding tools to scrape this data, and g*mer rage brought into IRL.

ENL = enlightened = green team = "frogs"

RES = resistance = blue team = "smurfs"

We were physically blocked by an opposition player (not all smurfs are bad, just this guy). He even called the police, thinking he would get us into some kind of trouble. When the police did arrive, we explained exactly what we were doing including showing them the game interface. They told him to move his vehicle and let us pass while they held him back for further discussion.

A few local players tried pulling that on one of us. Our guy patted his hip and warned them that he plays armed and shoots to kill.

They didn't try pulling that on any of us again.

But it is part of why I often play armed, as well. Before I moved, one of the local ENL players used to stalk me around a couple of square miles of territory every few nights. Didn't matter if I was getting home at 3:00 AM or 5:00 AM, they were following me...

I believe that a couple of years ago someone did get fatally stabbed for ignoring the other team's warnings and going off to play in gang held territory alone at night. He thought they were joking and trying to scare him off.

On my way out an oncoming car was approaching that veered into my lane and headed straight for me and accelerated. It was our regional spoofing, backpacking, data mining ENL agent pissed off cause I had interrupted his nap I guess. I kept going straight at him and he did get out of the way at the last minute.

These escapades have been going on for well over a year now. In return I admit I have pulled up on him at portals and intentionally blocked him in on at least one occasion.

just outside a Walgreens, I notice that the player who previously owned the nodes had called me out in chat, and had included a short little string of letters and numbers—upon my insistence he confirmed my suspicion, clarifying, "thats your license plate" (it wasn't)

He proceeded to reassure his local group of Enlightened teammates that he had tailed me for awhile, which would have been a lot creepier had he actually been doing so

The story doesn't end there—about a week later, I'm finishing a cigar out in the smoking area in front of a little college town bar I frequented at the time, about a 20-minute drive away from the aforementioned nodes, and in the middle of whatever conversation I was having with my friends, I notice that I'm sitting right next to a big black SUV with the exact license plate that creepy ENL butthole had spent nearly an hour following around thinking he was some kind of secret agent super spy