The one man I know who loves video games the most - he loves the history, he knows the names in the industry, he reads critiques, he has an entire room where he keeps his game library (and will talk at length about preservation and physical media) - is not actually good at playing them. He is helplessly enamored with games as art, despite that he can’t really beat anyone at his favourite games. It might be plain distractibility or some form of dyspraxia, but it has not lessened his pleasure. I used to smirk when we were young, but I think he has sense on his side.