We’re slugging it out in the second round. I’m on the ropes, huffing for breath. My weary arms can barely muster a punch. My defenses are ebbing. The next onslaught is terminal. My knees buckle. I collapse onto the canvas. I’m out for the count. My opponent jumps in triumph. He is 7 years old.

“I beat you again, Uncle Richard,” says Louis as I breathlessly slump onto the couch. “I’m bester than you at boxing. What next? Cycling? Kayaking? Tennis? Come on, get up!”

I am suffering not just from exhaustion and humiliation but also culture shock. During my childhood there was a clear demarcation between sport and video gaming. You chose one or the other. My ruddy complexion and permanent mottling of miscellaneous scrapes and bruises betrayed me as an active sports nut. By contrast, video gamers existed almost exclusively indoors and could be identified by their pale skin and reddened eyes.

In the intervening years, the boundaries have dissolved. Throughout my formative years, game consoles could provide no more than approximate simulations of real sports, designed to be played by the frenetic fingers of deskbound gamers.

Some of today’s video games provide a vigorous full-body workout. It will be confirmed tomorrow: I will inevitably wake up suffering the aches and pains of today’s exertion. And all without having left the living room.

Louis hauls me back to my feet and challenges me to a ski jump competition. He ejects the boxing disc from the Nintendo Wii console and inserts “Wii Fit,” the program that has led the revolution in physical gaming. He places something called a Balance Board on the carpet and encourages me to step onto it. It looks like a futuristic bathroom scale.

Each shift of my weight is transmitted through the board to the television screen. My virtual image sways from side to side in response to my actual movements.

At the press of a button, I am transported to the top of a ski ramp. I crouch, leaning forward to control a small dot at the side of the screen that will determine my speed and accuracy.

Virtual Me starts sliding down the ramp. I maintain my crouched balance as steadily as possible, and then, at the bottom of the ramp, I straighten my legs and lean forward as far as I can. On the screen, I’m soaring through the air. I touch down at 80 meters to muted applause from the television and an indifferent shrug from Louis. He then shows me how it’s done, gliding with ease beyond my mark. “Beat you! Beat you! Again.”

It is not just the boundaries between jocks and geeks that have been blurred by the new generation of video games. The advantages of age, experience and strength have also eroded. The Wii is the definitive leveler. After a lifetime of competitive sports, suddenly I am a novice again. In the course of an afternoon, I am defeated by Louis, both of his parents and his grandmother. The family dog looks on with wry amusement.

Yet I am forced to concede that interactive video gaming is no longer confined to couch potatoes. As the session wears on, the competitive mist descends, and I find myself pushing my limits of concentration and stamina in virtual sport after virtual sport: NFL, World Cup soccer, archery, running, table tennis.

This is a new arena for me, and it will take time to become competent. Does the Wii offer genuine sporting contests? I will reserve judgment until I’ve whooped my 7-year-old nephew.