EA Forgot the Communities That Built Battlefield.
- TheyNoFixPUBG

- Dec 20, 2025
- 3 min read

There was a time, gather ‘round, kids, when Battlefield understood gaming communities.
Back in the golden age of 1776 Gaming (yes, I’m biased, fight me), we could rent a server, run it ourselves, slap our name on it, and grow something real. A place. A home. A server people recognized. People joined because they knew what they were getting: familiar rules, familiar faces, organized game nights, and admins who actually gave a damn.
Fast-forward to Battlefield 6 and its shiny new Portal system, and somehow we’ve gone backwards.
The Portal Problem (a.k.a. “You Need 20 Friends Before You Can Make Friends”)
Here’s the absolute galaxy-brain design choice: You need 20 players just to get a Portal server off the ground.
Twenty.
Let that sink in.
You can’t spin up a server to build a community unless you already have a community the size of a small village. That’s not how growth works. That’s like telling a band they need a sold-out tour before they’re allowed to rehearse.
Previously:
Rent server
Customize rules
Schedule events
Build momentum
Grow organically
Now?
Already be huge
Or don’t bother
Cool. Super welcoming. Love that for us.
Communities Weren’t an “Extra” , They Were the Backbone
Battlefield wasn’t just popular because of gunplay or explosions (though yes, boom good). It thrived because of persistent communities:
Regular game nights
Clan rivalries
Server reputations
Moderated environments
Players who came back night after night because it felt familiar
Communities like ours weren’t just players, we were content generators, retention machines, and free marketing rolled into one. We kept servers alive at off-hours. We onboarded new players. We organized events. We stabilized concurrent player counts when hype cycles dipped.
And now?
Now we’re apparently an afterthought.
“But Matchmaking!” Yeah, That’s Not the Same
Matchmaking is fine. It’s convenient. It’s fast food.
Communities are home-cooked meals.
You don’t build loyalty, friendships, or long-term engagement by dumping people into random lobbies where no one speaks and the server disappears forever after the match ends. That’s not a community, that’s speed dating with grenades.
Portal could have been the best of both worlds. Instead, it’s gated behind an arbitrary player count that punishes smaller, growing groups, the exact groups that historically kept Battlefield alive between launches.
This Is How You Fix It (Because Ranting Without Solutions Is Just Twitter)
Here’s the wild, revolutionary idea:
Let communities rent or host persistent Portal servers
Remove or drastically lower the player requirement
Allow servers to stay live even when population dips
Give communities tools to grow again
That’s it. That’s the list. No blockchain. No AI buzzwords. Just… let us build.
You’re Leaving Players on the Table
Gaming communities aren’t relics. We’re not dinosaurs asking for LAN parties and TeamSpeak. We’re organized, motivated, and ready to contribute to Battlefield’s success, if we’re allowed to exist.
Right now, it feels like Battlefield 6 was built for quick sessions, not long-term ecosystems. And that’s a shame, because communities like 1776 Gaming didn’t just play Battlefield, we sustained it.
We want to help. We want to host. We want to organize. We want to grow.
But you’ve locked the door and told us to come back when we already don’t need it.
Battlefield, if you’re listening: Stop forgetting the people who kept your games alive when the hype faded.
Give communities the keys back.
We know how to use them.




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