Last week I posted ‘I remember’, an article in which I shared some of my gaming memories to show how looking back on them can cheer us up when we’re feeling down.
I had a lovely response to the article – for which I’m massively grateful – and a similarly brilliant response to my request for your own gaming memories. You delivered them by the virtual bucketload.
Here, then, are a selection of memories from Tired Old Hack readers, Twitter followers and friends. We’re all different people and we were all brought up in different situations, but we’re all united by the warm feeling we get when we think back to when video games made us happy.
I remember my old man coming home with a rubber keyboard Speccy in an old Tesco bag that he hadn’t told us he was buying. The whole family crowded round our huge CRT TV in total amazement at what we were seeing. I can still remember being in total awe of the graphics in Pajamarama and playing that and School Daze endlessly even though I was rubbish at both of them.
I remember visiting the Golden Goose arcade and the very start of the peir in Llandudno. Rightly or wrongly it was always the highlight of visiting my grandparents and I was introduced to so many games that turned out to be genre-defining classics, although I didn’t realise it at the time.
One time a guy asked if he could join my game of Golden Axe and when I said “sure thing” he proceeded to kick the the life right out of me, before my 10-year-old eyes. I was too busy laughing at his audacity to be angry and mourn the loss of my precious 10p. We ended up gaming together for an hour or so until Thunderblade had swallowed the last of the week’s spends.
You’re right, gaming gives us all memories that we can look back on fondly as well as providing a fantastic distraction from the heaps of actual manure that comes along with adult life.
Your article got me thinking and I’m so grateful for my old man introducing me to computers at such a young age (Vic-20 era) even though he had little interest in them himself. It was that spark that started a lifelong passion for gaming that doesn’t seem to be dimming at all.
Having the opportunity to see games develop from Radar Rat Race to Grand Theft Auto V is a journey that not everyone had the chance to experience. Watching these games evolve over my 37 years on this planet has been such a special experience and not every generation gets to witness something like that.
I remember the Grandstand console, which had a selection of sports. Squash, tennis, football: it was all just Pong in disguise. It had controllers with knobs that you rotated to move the bats up and down.
I remember our Amstrad CPC 464. Playing Roland In The Caves, Oh Mummy and other Amsoft classics. I remember playing Dizzy games collaboratively with my brother and friends, trying to get a little further each time. I remember typing in pokes and simple games, recording on cassettes and buying games from Boots. I remember my friend’s Spectrum having better music and working out how many objects 3D Construction Kit would let you make before the first disappeared.
I remember my dad buying an Atari ST at a Dixons clearance sale and only having a cover disc to play on it. The game was a platformer with a ninja in it and vividly coloured parallax skies. I remember the piracy protection for Monkey Island and Cruise For A Corpse, physical items that accompanied the stack of disks.
I remember the Golden Goose arcade in Llandudno, being in awe of the big colourful sprites in Joe N Mac: Caveman Ninja. I remember finishing The Simpsons arcade game twice with my brother and friend. I remember being top of the high score table in Thunderblade, four player fun with Quartet, Gauntlet and Turtles. I remember Ridge Racer looking beautiful.
I remember a small Scottish boy innocently challenging my brother at Street Fighter in the arcade, before entering a code to play as Akuma. Playing Snow Bros at a camp site, Ms Pacman after swimming and Super Bubble Bobble after helping my dad in his picture framing shop.
I remember poring over the screenshots of Super Mario World in an issue of Total! until my brother bought a SNES. Him leaving the console on for two hours to show me he’d finished the game while I was out. My cousin claiming “I know what to do” when we played A Link To The Past. I remember the special challenge version of Starwing I played in Comet. I remember buying import games from Special Reserve, like Legend Of The Mystical Ninja.
I remember a summer spent playing X-Com with my friends. We named people in it after school mates so it was funnier when they went berserk or ran away. I remember the lure of one more turn when playing Civ II.
I remember the videos of Super Mario 64 shown on [UK television show] Bad Influence! from Nintendo’s Spaceworld show. I remember seeing it for real when we picked my brother up from university and his friend was repeatedly failing to collect eight red coins on a Bowser level.
I remember resisting trying Ocarina Of Time in an import shop with just weeks to go until the UK release, but still coming in to hear that music and gaze adoringly at the screen.
I remember buying a Gamecube from WH Smith with Luigi’s Mansion and Rogue Squadron, relishing the jaunty music as the boot up cube tumbled around. I remember going to ECTS for my first big gaming show and playing Double Dash!! and finding perfection in Pac-Man Vs.
I remember the serenity of a setting sun in Red Dead Redemption, the chaos of Geometry Wars, the ruins of Uncharted 2, the mind bending of Braid, the artistry of Journey, the inventiveness of Super Mario Galaxy, the joy of Katamari Damacy and the untold hours of happiness gaming has brought me.
I remember going to my first StreetPass event and finding a group of people with the same passion for games as I have. People I have a shared history with already because of the adventures we’ve all played through before we even met. I can’t wait to see what I will remember in the future.
– John Edwards
I remember the run up to Christmas 2006. I was an awkward 13-year-old still struggling through secondary school but the Nintendo Wii was on its way. I don’t think I had ever been as excited for a new console as that. It was at the top of my Christmas list but the thing was selling fast. My dad came home from work and told me that the odds of getting it were pretty much zilch.
I felt dejected but tried not to be too upset. I tried to understand that it was difficult and my dad had tried his best. I didn’t want to appear ungrateful to the man who had rarely let me down when it came to birthdays and Christmas.
That Christmas day, I was still buzzing with excitement. So what if I didn’t get the Wii: I was determined to still have a great time. When the time came to open presents, I rushed to the tree and pondered what to grab first. I noticed that one present was bizarrely big: most of the stuff I asked for was really small. Out of curiosity, I went to grab it but my dad said: “No, save that till last.”
I was struck with confusion. “Why that one last, unless…” The possibility quickly dawned on me. “No. He said he wouldn’t be able to get one.” I tried desperately to not get excited in case I wound up being horribly wrong. Turns out my suspicions were dead on.
I had a brand spanking new Wii to enjoy: a console that managed to even get my parents to give gaming a brief go (even if it was just Wii Sports). Looking back, it didn’t really have too many great games for it (we’ll see about that: watch this space – Chris), but that feeling of elation when I ripped off the paper to see that beautiful white box is one I hope to never forget.
I remember visiting my Grandad in my early childhood, every Sunday afternoon without fail. I remember when we moved away, visits came on the first Saturday of every school holiday and phone calls came every Sunday and Wednesday evening without fail.
I remember staying with him one summer and him buying all the accessories for our Game Boy that we found & our library of games doubling in the week we were there.
I remember one particular visit, he showed us a computer he’d been given that he’d planned to catalogue his coin collection on but, despite understanding how to do it all he preferred his old method and didn’t really need the computer.
He wondered if perhaps we could use it for our homework or perhaps get some games for it: if indeed there were games for it. We didn’t know exactly what it was but if it was anything like the Amstrad CPC 464 he’d given us years before we’d be okay. More than okay.
He never made a big deal of these things, always seemed as though he was mentioning them in passing. Not out of disinterest but because he was so pleased that we were visiting there that something so trivial shouldn’t be dwelt upon.
As I say, we didn’t know what it was at the time but my Dad did and of the memories I have of it afterwards, my Dad features in most. He, me & my brother spent hours together shooting, flying, fighting, exploring, casting spells etc. My Grandad was glad we’d liked it and was pleased that we’d gotten some use out of it.
And we certainly did. It was an Amiga 600.
I remember sitting in the garden with my Gameboy Color on a beautiful summer day, trying to think of a cooler name to put into Pokémon Red that wasn’t just my real name. My 7-year-old brain came up with Mickiz, which i still use in games today.
I spent hours in Pokémon Red going through Rock Tunnel without Flash because I was hardcore (I was an idiot) and feeling the greatest sense of achievement when I finally came out the other side.
I remember coming back from Tesco in my mum’s Vauxhall Cavalier in the pouring rain and beating the Elite Four with my poorly trained Charizard, and refusing to get out the car until I’d finished listening to the credits music: to this day indelibly marked in my brain.
When my mum suggested taking up an instrument I chose the Pokéflute, but it didn’t exist so I played a normal flute instead. 15 years later I still play and make my own music.
These are just a few memories from just one game. I haven’t even mentioned playing through Pokémon Sapphire five times, my sense of wonder and excitement watching the opening of Final Fantasy III on DS, buying a GameCube and discovering Wind Waker, getting a PS2 and spending days grinding in Final Fantasy XII just for fun, summer evenings spent playing Persona 4 on Vita maxing out social links, the 300-odd hours and crippling RSI playing Animal Crossing New Leaf for hours every day and immediately following it with a few hours of Bravely Default…
Games have shaped my life in so many ways, and though I think I should probably feel bad about spending so much of my life not doing something more worthwhile or productive, when it comes down to it I don’t regret a second.
I remember visiting my grandfather’s house when my mother had to work late hours. He had a keen interest in collecting things and buying things from car boot sales, including video games and consoles for me and my brother to play when we visited.
Some of my fondest memories are playing the original PlayStation with my grandfather watching, and my brother and I passing the controller around and seeing who could get the furthest in Metal Gear Solid and Abe’s Oddysee, along with multiplayer sessions of Syphon Filter 2.
I remember one day my grandfather brought out a console that was a favourite of his, the Atari 2600. His assertion was that “older games are better”, reasoning that they required more imagination because of their technical limitations. My brother and I had a lot of fun playing Combat and Centipede among other titles and my grandfather’s love of the Atari definitely sparked an interest in retro gaming for me. When he moved out of one of his houses he let me keep the Atari 2600.
Last week, my grandfather passed away. I owe a lot to him beyond the gaming memories he gave to me, but I’ll always remember those evenings spent at his house with a great nostalgia.
I remember Sonic the Hedgehog on the Sega Master System. I loved playing it and even downloaded the Game Gear version from the eShop. It still makes me smile now.
I remember Super Mario Bros 3. I have fond memories of me and my sister watching my brother play it and being amazed at how many secrets there were. I did play it myself a few times but mostly watched my brother and maybe took part in the occasional two-player mode. I remember one night we got so close to the end then became distressed as the NES decided to freeze. Oh the pain!
I remember the year i got my DS Lite: it quite a few years after i stopped playing the NES and was the next games console I played. I was at a family meal and my cousin had Brain Training running. She turned to me and asked: “Can you do the maths part? It’s too hard.” Despite the ugly pink colour, her DS Lite captured my heart.
I eventually got my own: a white DS Lite and two games for £95.99. My DS Lite went everywhere with me and kept me company. It’s survived drops and spills and still works now. I could never get rid of it- the hinge may be knackered but i love it with all my heart.
I remember pre-ordering it at my local Electronics Boutique and going back an unhealthy amount of times when they got one in a good few weeks ahead of release for customers to try out (probably a US import since they had it since November 2001).
I remember being blown away by the sight of Super Monkey Ball and Luigi’s Mansion when my eyes were still used to Nintendo 64 and PlayStation graphics (I didn’t get a PS2 for another year or so). Then seeing Rogue Leader! There will never be a leap like that again in my opinion, everything just looks a little shinier with the current generation rather than the eye melting goodness of that kind of difference.
I remember the day finally arriving when I got to bring it home: 3 May 2002. I chose the black one (ew, purple) and got Super Monkey Ball and Luigi’s Mansion and a Memory Card 59, my best friend got Star Wars. Despite already being a gamer for 12 years at this stage, this was the first time it felt like I was playing the future, even more than the N64.
I remember Christmas Day, 1999. My brother and I (I was six and he was four) did what we normally did: woke up really early and kept hassling our parents until they finally relented and let us open our presents. It was all pretty straightforward (I don’t remember what else we got) until it was revealed that we had one more present each.
We opened our last presents to find a Game Boy Colour each, with Pokemon Blue for me and Pokemon Red for him. We spent most of Christmas Day playing: upon starting, we found that our parents had played through most of the games, sorting us out with some decent teams. I’m not completely sure why, but that part has always stuck with me.
That was when we got hooked on Pokemon. Since then, we’ve pretty much made a thing of picking up the main series games at the same time, playing through them, trading with each other. The biggest difference is now we have a couple of younger sisters who also join in.
I remember playing Bust-A-Move 2 and 3 DX on PlayStation, and Bust-A-Move 4 on Dreamcast. My mum wasn’t really into video games, but she liked the Bust-A-Move games, and we’d sometimes play the multiplayer modes with each other. I just remember that it was nice that we were able to spend time together. I was recently playing one of the Bust-A-Move games on PS3 (yay for backwards compatibility) and she heard the music, remembered when we used to play together, and offered to play again. I might have to see if the offer still stands.
I remember as a kid really wanting a Playstation. The Mega Drive paled in comparison to the next-gen splendor of a 32-bit system., I begged my parents for ages: “Please mum, everyone has one, I’m the only kid at school who doesn’t”.
Her go-to response was always the same: my best friend at the time was called Mark, and she would always ask “has Mark got one?”. He of course didn’t, and that was enough for her to justify dusting off Golden Axe one more time.
Then, one day, which my nostalgia tinted memory remembers as being the sunniest, most glorious day, I was at Mark’s house, and in walks his Dad with a PlayStation. I’m not sure I even said goodbye as I ran home: the script was written.
“Mum, can I get a PlayStation? Everyone has one,” I asked, with a confidence that had never been present before.
“Does Mark have one?” came the well versed reply, and then it was time for the golden trump card.
“Yes! Yes he does, so can I get one now?” I asked excitedly.
“We will talk to your Dad when he gets home.”
The next two hours seemed to last a lifetime as I pored over the Argos catalogue, and came to the conclusion Tekken 2 would be my first foray into the world of PlayStation greatness. My Dad returned home and we went straight to Argos.
I was floating on a cloud. As soon as we got home I booted up my new magic machine and heard that now so familiar load up sound. I stared in wonder and thought to myself: “It wont get better than this, these graphics are untouchable”. And in my mind’s eye, they still are.
Gaming was, is and will always be my escape from reality, nothing beats popping off into an alternative reality where you can be a hero, a footballer or a cartoon bandicoot.
Long live gaming.
– Jon Adams
Bright red, screen scratched to hell, my cases of Phoenix Wright, Mario Kart, and Fire Emblem holding five games each, replayed over and over.
It was all I had in the world to call my own. The only thing that stayed consistent in my miserable life at the time.
I traded it in when I upgraded to a better model years later (a pink DS lite!), because I thought it would help me mentally move on from the past.
But I miss it, and I’ll never forget what a handheld gaming device did for a sad and lonely gay kid.
I remember being a young lad and our Amstrad CPC 464 being on the dining room table, my dad constantly hitting the space bar while playing Fruit Machine for hours on end, then introducing me to Sir Lancelot, Roland In The Caves and Oh Mummy to name but a few.
I remember how the NES (very much like the Wii) brought our family together: playing Mario, everyone hollering at Tetris when the drops were getting quicker and the lines were building up, and my auntie playing the rock hard Rainbow Islands instinctively waving her controller to try and get those little cute pixels higher before the water levels rose.
I remember four other distinct memories regarding my NES days:
1) A friend coming round my house with Super Mario Bros 2 and us being allowed to stay out until the ungodly hour of 8pm.
2) Riding my bike to Dixons with £40 which I had saved up to get Super Mario Bros 3: the joy when I opened the yellow box and saw the cartridge inside was incredible.
3) Riding miles to a Currys with my friend in the rain while it was dark, to pick up Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2, while he chose to buy Tom & Jerry (?).
4) When I showed my friends the gold Legend Of Zelda cartridge.
I remember on Christmas Day opening a standalone present which turned out to be Super Mario World, my heart racing, only for my dad to tell my mum she got a game for the wrong console. Heart sank. But my final present, hidden right at the back, was a SNES with Super Mario All Stars. Best day ever. The colours, the music, everything.
I remember back then how gaming brought unbridled and uncomplicated joy for me, but with sense of things to come as friends moaned that the SNES version of Mortal Kombat had no blood and ‘family friendly fatalities’ rather than the more adult Mega Drive version. I was in the minority as a Nintendo fan, but that didn’t matter then and it still doesn’t now.
I remember the opening sequence in Star Fox, with the FX chip, and thinking “graphics can’t get any better surely”. Then Rare, out of the blue, took my breath away with Donkey Kong Country. I also remember the times when you would have to discover things on your own without quickly typing something into Google to find the answers!
I remember how my biggest regret is that I never followed my dream of going in to games journalism, I never had the courage or fortitude of Chris and others who had aspirations, went for it and got paid to do the thing they love. I work in a normal office, doing a standard Monday to Friday 9-5, but after reading the blog I knew I just had to get my thoughts down.
I may have droned on a bit, but right now I have a huge grin on my face and for me, that is the point of gaming: happiness. I have so many different memories flashing through my mind, hours upon hours of pure joy and I haven’t even touched on the later generations. I now have the theme tune to Gusty Garden Galaxy in my head. Bliss.
With two young kids it is hard to find the time to play as much as I would like to, but I’m going to sign off, boot up the Virtual Console on my Wii U and stomp on some Goombas for old times sake.
– Rich Sullivan
I remember when it was my birthday about a decade ago, and I cried with happiness when unwrapping my GameCube.
Whilst not having a lot to play on it, I could always take respite from the often hard days at school when younger by visiting Isle Delfino in Super Mario Sunshine, or walking around the board of Mario Party 7. I didn’t have a great choice of games, but it made me happy.
I also remember how video games, over time, taught me not to give up when facing adversity. It might sound a bit pathetic, but I used to give up at the merest hint of a challenge in a video game. Whereas now, I’ll stick at it to win through.
– Harry Pamely
I remember that when we were kids my dad bought a Sega Master System 2 with Alex Kidd In Miracle World built in. My dad worked a lot and would leave before we were up and be home after we’d gone to bed. I remember my mum told me years later that dad used to come home from work and get straight on Alex Kidd.
She said he wouldn’t come to bed until the small hours every night. She remembers how he used to talk to her about it and say “almost got past the forest stage last night” and “I’ve got all the Jankens memorised now”. But after weeks with no success in beating the game, mum said he stopped getting undressed before bed, and would come in, exhausted and defeated and just lay, fully clothed on top of the quilt, motionless.
Eventually when he beat the game I think it was less an achievement to be celebrated and more that he’d laid a personal demon to rest. Whenever I ask him about it he still remembers it all which I love, and my brother and I love singing the Janken music to him.
He has never played another video game since. When we got Mario 64 he stood above us watching, mesmerised, but would never play.
Poor old dad, the legend.
– Brad Grievson
I remember the first games machine I was allowed to have for myself. My family were poor growing up, and I think one of the reasons I became fascinated with games is that visiting an arcade (or even a friend’s house) was like a holiday into a world of glamorous, glowing, escapist technology.
Unfortunately, the most we could ever afford was hand-me-down machines (a Binatone 12-in-1, a malfunctioning Vic-20) and so I spent hours in the local arcades eking out my 10ps and buying CVG to pretend I might afford a NES one day.
Eventually, family finances were looking up and my mum agreed to get me a Sega Master System for Christmas. I’d always wanted a Nintendo, but my friend’s dad bought the Master System when he separated from his mum and I was blown away playing R-Type and Cyborg Hunter.
I persuaded my Mum to get a copy of Wonder Boy III: The Dragon’s Trap, based on a review in the copy of Sega Power the shop owner gave us when my mum put the deposit on the machine. My dad was convinced I’d get bored of ‘computer games’ once the novelty wore off, and I suppose I was a bit worried he might be right. It did occur to me that I could have asked for a BMX.
On Christmas day, I very carefully unwrapped the box, savoured what I now think of as that ‘new console smell’, and spent about an hour reading the brochure for other games before even turning on my TV. At the time, I felt a little cheated that I hadn’t been able to afford the model with the light gun and 3D glasses, which I imagined was like being in Tron.
Saving the packaed Hang-On for later I plugged in Wonder Boy, turned on the machine, and felt like I’d stepped into a new world. Although I’d played a lot of games, having the machine to myself – albeit on our shared telly in the living room – was the first time I realised that video game worlds could have subtlety and depth. Every little touch, from the animated backgrounds to the expressions on sprites, amazed me. Every time I get a new game, I’m still trying to recapture that feeling.
I have a ton of memories like this, but I think the sensation of getting a new console, plugging it in and seeing what it can do is the most powerful. I’ve got similar memories about the Mega Drive, the Super Nintendo, the Nintendo 64 and the Dreamcast. It’s a shame that most newer machines launch with nothing but a pile of shite, but there you go.
– Will Lakeman
I remember getting a GameCube and Super Smash Bros Melee for my birthday the year it came out.
I played it extensively with my friends and took part in my fair share of mini tournaments with them too, back in primary school: tournaments I ended up getting ‘banned’ from later for being too good with Jigglypuff, who everyone regarded as a joke character. They didn’t know about the one-hit-kill rest move…
That’s not a joke either: this was back in the day when nobody really knew about the competitive scene, and as the 7-year-olds we were everyone just picked Mewtwo or Bowser. I stumbled across the rest move one day by mistake and everyone was so mad!
– Matt Smith (not that one)
After a decent wait to play Metal Gear Solid: Ground Zeroes (it was the first time it was playable in the UK) I got plonked on a box and skipped the tutorial. After about a minute, the PR who’d sat me down gave me a tap on the shoulder and asked me: “Mr. Kojima is behind you, is it okay for him to take photos?”
Never been so star-struck in all my life.
– Mathew Davies
I remember getting home after a day at school to find my dad perched on the couch. In front of him, on the floor in the middle of the living room, sat a grey box with a cartridge sticking out of the top of it.
I dropped my school bag to the floor, where it lay forgotten for the next hour or so. On the screen in front of me, Dad was shooting his way through Dam, the first stage of GoldenEye 007 on the N64. 16-bit had always been my life, so like cassette tapes and VHS it was just an accepted part of the world. But now, for the first time, I was watching a fully 3D game running on our gigantic CRT TV in the living room.
I couldn’t care less that strange sparks emitted from enemies when you shot them, or that the models typed at keyboards with clenched fists. This was the first time I ever felt that real touch of video game magic in the living room. The N64 reignited this magic so many times. Mario, Banjo and Ocarina are still there with the happiest memories of my childhood.
– Ross Parry
I remember as a 10-year-old regularly BMX-ing up to the Arnison Centre in Durham with a friend in tow with the sole intention of seeing how long we could play on the Mega Drive in Curry’s before we got chucked out.
Neither of us were well off enough to get one and neither of us were friends with anyone who had one, so these were rare chances to play. We’d never got past the 2nd boss of Altered Beast as the mean shop assistants would come over and reset the console if they decided you’d been playing too long.
We lucked out one magical autumnal day. It was a busy Saturday so the shop assistants had left us unchecked and by the time we got our first disapproving stare we had already reached Octeyes. My heart sank a little as the assistant started heading towards us, but rose again when he got distracted halfway by a customer.
We beat the boss and made it to the third level and I noticed a woman stood the other side of us, watching in bemusement. I can’t remember who started it but as we began the underground cavern for the first time we struck up a conversation. She was looking for a birthday present for her son and he was similarly obsessed with games.
We enthused about the Mega Drive and how amazing it was and how we both wished we could have it and OH MY GOD I’VE JUST CHANGED INTO A BEAR. I remember the guy finally coming over and telling us our time was up and I remember the woman standing up for us and telling him to leave us be as we were “just having fun” and “actually, they’re being really helpful”.
I remember at some point during the fourth level, the woman thanked us for our help and wished us good luck before calling the assistant over and telling him we’d helped her decide that she was going to buy a Mega Drive for her son.
I remember the shock when Neff turned into a giant rhino and the fear when he first hit us with his charge attack. I remember the assistant coming back over and saying “I’ve not seen this guy before”.
“He’s the final boss,” we exclaimed, and he mumbled his approval and left us to carry on playing! I remember the unbridled joy when we beat Neff by the skin of our teeth and I remember the pride we felt telling the guy we completed it as we left the store with the widest of wide grins.
– James Stewart (not that one)
I remember Christmas of 2001, and being lucky enough to open a PlayStation as my main Christmas present. At the time, despite being terrible at games, it was the greatest thing my brain had ever processed: just hearing the start-up jingle was awe-inspiring.
I remember the games I unwrapped alongside it: the Spyro trilogy and Crash Bandicoot trilogy. The sheer size and scale of each game absolutely blew me away, along with the colours and characters of each. My whole free time for nearly an entire six months was consumed by these games, I couldn’t force myself to come off them.
I remember the fun and enjoyment those original games brought me, and eventually following that the amazing Final Fantasy VII: all games I still play to this day.
– Ash Harrison
I remember playing Ocarina Of Time on my dad’s N64, even though it gave me nightmares, even though I couldn’t get past Death Mountain, even though I had to play it in 15-minute increments before I got too scared by the Re-Deads.
I remember talking to the ‘new kid’ at school who no one seemed to like, purely because he knew how to beat Majora’s Mask. I remember being made fun of. I remember being bullied for talking to him, too.
I remember playing Game Boy Colour in the car with my brother until I threw up. I remember having to go through the hassle of using that iridescent purple link cable. I remember tricking him into trading me his starter Pokemon. I remember not always being a good sister…
I remember after-school club having a PlayStation, and I remember playing Croc and Crash Bandicoot. I remember the boys wanting to play SimCity instead, and monopolising the PC.
I remember bonding with my little brother over the strangest 360 games: Viva Piñata, Dante’s Inferno.
And now, I’m scared all I will remember of this period is being treated like I don’t belong, like I don’t deserve to. But I have people like you who have been lovely. People who are willing to say “fuck off” to the kind of morons who want to keep games frozen the way they were in the 90s and early 00s. I hope I remember that.
Also beating everyone at Mario Kart 8 x
– My lovely friend Kate Gray (who is frustratingly good at Mario Kart 8)
An enormous, heartfelt thank you to everyone who submitted stories for this article. There’s one more submission I’ll post in a couple of days because it was bloody long and I didn’t really want to cut it any. For now though, if you have your own gaming memory you want to share, please do post it in the comments below.
I’m determined to make this site a celebration of gaming rather than the usual moaning about DLC, free-to-play and day-one-patches you see on other sites. Your eagerness to share your positive memories has encouraged me that it’s the right direction for me to take the site.
Thanks again guys.