Since "Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas" is far and away the most massive video game our reviewer has ever played, he chronicled his progress to the end of the game's main storyline (which, mercifully, he finally reached).

The Final Tally Official Game Time (not counting reloads and restarts): 36 hours, 59 minutes. Actual Time Spent Playing The Game (estimated): Double it. Easy. Percentage of Game Completed: 58.39 percent. Total Kills: 2004 (1601 "legitimate," whatever that means). Missions Attempted: 173. Missions Passed: 98. Longest Time on Exercise Bike: 2:08. (Actually, the longest I've spent on any exercise bike, even in reality.) Favorite Mission of the game: All the flying missions are pretty cool, especially if you have to sky dive. In "Stowaway," you have to ride your motorcycle up the ramp of this plane as it takes off, eliminate the guards, plant a bomb, and bail out. Does it get any cooler than that?

Not me. The second I regained control of the character (after the closing film clip and extensive -- and I mean extensive -- credit sequence), I got him as far from Grove Street as I possibly could. First, I dropped a little over $120,000 on a house in the hills (real estate's kinda cheap in the "GTA" world), overlooking the countryside on one side and the Vinewood sign on the other.

Then I drove to my airstrip in the desert, played around with a harrier jet I had, um, acquired and then hopped into my jetpack (long story) and cruised over to San Fierro, where I had my eye on a little condo at the top of the "GTA" equivalent to San Fran's Lombard Street (the curviest street in the world!).

There, C.J. retired.

Did I miss the point somewhere? Should I have kept C.J. in Los Santos and further consolidated his grip on the neighborhoods surrounding his childhood home?

Perhaps, but harrier jets are almost always more fun than sticking close to home. Jetpacks? Even more so. And prime real estate in San Francisco? Don't even get me started.

As you can tell, the game got a little more mercenary as it careened and lurched to the conclusion of its main storyline -- which was satisfying, to understate, significantly. During one stretch of the final mission -- as you rumble through all areas of Los Santos chasing down a foe, a loved one dangling from the rear of his vehicle and gang members lined up lobbing molotov cocktails into the street, flames exploding all around you -- the exhileration level was nigh-intolerable. And I must confess to a mild case of post-game blues.

The feeling is akin to someone who manages to sit through the director's cut of the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy back-to-back-to-back ... you're left exhausted, dazed, more than a bit removed from your reality and quite baffled, in a way, that the thing ever ended at all. (And the fact there are numerous, massive sub-missions that still wait to be completed, had I the time and inclination, is more baffling still.)

It's really quite an experience, looking back.

The one thing that's always seemed unique to the "GTA" franchise -- the last two entries, most acutely -- is the sense of nostalgia that is created. There are so many missions, so many characters, the experience becomes layered in ways you don't get from your straight-ahead, linear games or even most movies. By the time the whole thing wraps up, you can peel off "GTA" stories the way old jocks can regale you with game tales from their senior year in high school ... experiences that are shared, yet personalized.

Not to romanticize a game in which you pimp women and routinely kill innocent bystanders (usually by accident), but you really do grow fond of the characters you meet and neighborhoods you frequent. I've actually spent quite a time driving (or flying, as the case may be) around the old neighborhood, remembering my early days as a young gangsta, just off the plane from Liberty City ...

Okay, this is getting weird.

Suffice it to say, I've completed a lot of games over the years, but rarely -- if ever -- have I sorta regretted the accomplishment.

San Andreas, I'll miss ya.