One of my favorite parts of growing up as a gamer were the social connections I made with fellow gamers. Many of my longest friendships were forged over frozen pizza and cans of soda with SNES and PS1 controllers in our hands. One of my earliest and closest friends had a game collection on par with my own, but with almost entirely different titles. Among the endless hours we spent in his basement movie-room, I stumbled across many games I’d never played before or, in some cases, even heard of. Some of those games would imbed themselves into my gaming memories and remain some of my favorite games for many years to come. One in particular stands out in my mind. I was able to climb into the cockpit of a space fighter, taking on the role of Fox McCloud in the 1993’s Star Fox for the SNES.
Star Fox was produced by Nintendo for the SNES console. You take play as Fox McCloud, an anthropomorphic fox, and pilot of the Arwing space fighter against the forces of the evil scientist Andross. Star Fox features multiple paths from planet Corneria to Andross' planet Venom. As a child in the 90’s, nothing was cooler to me than the idea of being a fighter pilot. As with many young boys, the adventure was an irresistible temptation for my young imagination. The young aspirations to become an astronaut, a jet pilot, a fire fighter, or a soldier were still common among friends in my age group. On top of that, I had already been watching classic science fiction of the time with my father: Star Wars, Star Trek, the Terminator, and many others. So the idea of being an alien space-fighter pilot was a dream come true. On top of the dream fulfillment, the newly utilized Super FX chip in the Star Fox cartridge allowed the SNES to generate gameplay like I’d never experienced before. It was a match made in Gamer-Heaven. It seems like every day, I would rush through my homework and beg to go next door to my friend’s house and would inevitably find my way to the sanctuary of gaming in his basement, asking to play Star Fox or some other game I didn't have at home. We sat together on the floor and shared this exhilarating journey through the Lylat System and many other adventures before we would both graduate and attend the same college. Only after our college graduation and we had both started our own adult lives, did the pattern of us gaming together finally slow down. I continued my adventures with Fox McCloud on the N64 with Star Fox 64. Then the series started adding features that didn't feel like Star Fox to me, running through missions on foot and such in Star Fox Advetures and Star Fox Assault on the GameCube....and I won't even begin to describe how the Wii U gamepad was forced into Star Fox Zero, making the game nearly unplayable for me. Through it all, good and bad, my love of that daring space fox and his brave friends withstood the passage of time.
Now, fast forward to today…I’m kicking a ball around the yard with my son. As he sprints after a ball that I may have kicked a bit too hard, I shout the signature phrase, “Hey! Do a barrel roll!” He picks up the ball and walks up to me with visible confusion on his face. “Dad, what do you mean, barrel roll?” I laugh, then realize two facts. First, Star Fox is still imbedded in my personality and second, MY son has never played Star Fox! I joke with myself, that MY son not knowing Star Fox just cannot stand. I sit down with him that evening, handing him the controller to my SNES Classic I ask, “Bud, wanna know how to do a barrel roll?” He smiles…and the adventure continues. It was a powerful dose of nostalgia to be sitting on the carpet in front of the TV, with my new little best friend, and passing on the journey through the Lylat System all over again. As the pumping rhythm of the Corneria theme saturated the room, and the screen was filled with the hard polygons of our first level, my heart began to speed up. My son was introduced to his team, Falco, Slippy, and Peppy. As I traveled back in time to 1996, I watched my son’s eyes…transfixed on the screen as his Arwing slipped effortlessly through the air, blasters carving lines through the sky. He was a natural pilot. We finished Corneria and moved on to the asteroid field. A level that was, for the moment, beyond his abilities. He handed me the controller and asked if he could watch me try. With a childlike happiness, I obliged him. Though I was very rusty and struggled, in his eyes, I was an ace pilot. I patted his shoulder and encouraged him to practice. He laughed as I joked about how terrible I was at Star Fox when I first started playing, silently thanking my luck that he was ready to stop playing for the moment. I wasn't sure I could continue to look good if we moved on to the next levels.
More and more, I find myself replaying old games, researching forgotten gems, and watching the new releases being announced with a new “player 2” by my side. My son and I are sharing the same bonds I built with my father when I was young. The cycle continues, the apprentice becomes the master and the new generation steps up to the controller for the first time. I’m proud to know that both of my children appreciate and enjoy retro gaming right alongside their dad. Rather than make fun of the old and antique, they embrace following in my footsteps and experiencing the adventures that are part of who I am now. Now, when they play games like Smash Bros, or one of the many long-lost-sequels that have taken so many years to arrive (cough cough Metroid), they get that special feeling of knowing WHO that character is and what they’ve done to earn a spot in the Smash Roster. In my own way, the stories of those old games are the myths and legends I grew up learning. And, much like the old cultures from around the world, I am proud to pass on my myths and legends to my children. Stories of good triumphing over evil, perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds, moral dilemmas, choices with hard consequences, and even Foxes that fly spaceships. So, if you have children of your own, younger siblings, nieces/nephews…don’t be bashful to pull out those old cartridges and pass on a piece of our gamer heritage. If we keep the stories alive, there will always be a way to Game On.
Comments