Traditionally, whenever I considered making a top games list, I would ask myself “how do I rank these multiplayer games which I’ve put hundreds or thousands of hours into, where my experience depended on how good I was, who I was playing with, and other community circumstances, rather than just the game itself?” I couldn’t come up with a good answer - I felt like I viewed those competitive titles just completely differently from anything single-player-focused at this point. Not as works of art (or entertainment), but as playing fields, the same way I never thought whether Basketball or Football is a better designed game, I just played whichever one I had the best opportunity to, and I tried my best at it. That’s kind of the thing - when you intentionally try to break the game to get the biggest advantage over your opponent, it’s hard to say whether the manner in which you’re able to do it is “good” or “bad”, I’m thinking in terms of “does it help me win”, not “do I enjoy this”.

The last part is especially crucial when it comes to fighting games in particular, because by design, there are periods of the game you will not enjoy. As the enemy scores a knockdown or otherwise locks you down in their flurry of offense, your gameplay is often limited to testing your reaction time and prediction ability, and if you succeed, then the reward will often be just the return to neutral state, not scoring any “victory points” or gaining any advantage, just denying the opponent theirs. I think Pat Miller put it right when he said that your goal as a fighting game player is to make the game as unpleasant to your opponent as possible, and it’s a tug-of-war where players try to snatch the fun away from one another. As such, your mileage will absolutely vary based on the pool of competitors available to you, your own talent, experience, and willingness to work at getting better.
But in recent years I’ve had plenty of opportunity to look for words to describe what I think makes one fighting game “better” than another, as titles such as Street Fighter V and DragonBall FighterZ have thoroughly disappointed me. It really didn’t feel like matter of personal preference at this point, but of design choices that, in my opinion, significantly reduced the gameplay complexity in crucial areas, allowing for less diversity of playstyles and focusing on just the superficial flair, when the genre’s history is full of titles that were able to achieve both. And one example of such is what I now realize has been my favorite game for many years now, 2011’s Ultimate Marvel vs Capcom 3.