The Time I Accidentally DDoS’d My Internet Friend’s FTP

Back when I was 12 or 13

Back when I was 12 or 13, long before YouTube made sharing videos effortless, getting your gaming clips online was a real challenge. There were no easy upload buttons, no social media embeds—just raw file transfers, IRC links, and the occasional forum post. That’s how I ended up in the middle of an accidental internet disaster.

At the time, I was deep into Counter-Strike and had put together a highlight reel of my best moments. Frags, clutch plays, and probably way too many over-the-top effects—classic early 2000s gaming montage material. But I had a problem: I needed somewhere to host the file so people could actually download it.

Enter Walter, an internet friend from Virginia. Walter was a bit older and had his own FTP server, where he hosted his Counter-Strike team’s website along with some other projects. Seemed like the perfect solution. I asked him if I could upload my video, and being the generous guy he was, he said sure.

I didn’t think twice. I uploaded the file and immediately posted the link everywhere (Ross if you’re listening.. how about that distribution, eh?) —GotFrag, IRC channels, AIM messages. The internet equivalent of throwing a lit match into a pile of dry leaves.

The next day, I woke up to a flood of messages from Walter.

“Dude, what did you do?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he explained: my video had been downloaded so many times that it completely wrecked his server’s bandwidth limit. His site was down. Everything was down.

And then came the kicker: Walter’s parents wanted to talk to me.

I don’t remember exactly what they said, but I do remember the sheer panic of realizing I had just cost them real money. Back then, bandwidth wasn’t cheap. There were actual limits on how much data you could transfer before ISPs started charging extra, and I had unknowingly burned through all of it.

It was my first real lesson in how the internet actually worked. Hosting content wasn’t magic—it had consequences, technical and financial. There were no free lunches.

That experience I remember fondly, it has def stuck with me. It was a crash course in responsibility, scale, and the hidden costs of sharing things online. A few years later, when YouTube arrived and made all of this effortless, I remember thinking, If only this had existed back then.

Sorry again, Walter. Hope your parents eventually forgave me.

Zach