Breaking Bad

As a retrogamer, it should come as no surprise to anyone that reads this blog that I am not a spring chicken. Today another birthday rolled around, and while the usual childlike glee of a day that belongs solely to me was foremost on my mind, the ticking of my ever-present biological clock was echoing loudly in my ear. It sounded remarkably like: ‘Congratulations, Sara, you are OLD.’ Given my love of self-mockery, this quickly turned into a desire to write something about my ludicrous personal struggles for this blog. It’s amazing what aging can do for writer’s block.

The topic that came to mind was one that is near and dear to my heart: How the aging process changes a gamer’s innate ability to succeed at their chosen hobby. Most of us are familiar with this particular brand of suffering, I think. The rude awakening of picking up of a favorite cartridge that you used to be able to beat in one sitting as a child, only to find that as an adult you have trouble with the first world is something that many of us have had to face. Whether you blame it on aging or on the blatant handholding of modern games, many gamers that I have talked to over the past few years have faced this very problem. To pick up a game that I had beaten as a child without losing a life and realize that I had, in fact, become bad at it, was a realization both horrible and humbling. I blamed everything under the sun, from an uncomfortable controller to aging reflexes, before coming to the conclusion that I have since reluctantly embraced. I was the problem.

As I child, I spent many hours at my aunt’s house, and while the adults gabbed, I would be holed up in her basement with my cousins’ Atari 2600. I have mentioned this much loved console in previous posts, I know, and the impact that it had on my life cannot be overstated. While I’ve played many games for that system over the years, my favorite was most definitely Frogger. The love I had for that game was almost inexplicable in its intensity. My parents should be thankful that they never loosed me anywhere near the arcade version, as we might still be there today.



I still loathe that alligator.

For a game that was basically about getting a frog across a road or other obstacle safely, the fact that I still think of it so fondly is startling. I took that little frog’s mission personally, and every failure to get him safely home was almost crushing to my sense of justice. Therefore I would sit in my aunt’s basement for hours, the Atari 2600’s simplistic joystick cutting into my hand, playing through the same levels over and over again because ‘That gator isn’t going to get me again!!!’ Where I got that sort of patience, I have no idea. Where it went, I wish I knew. I honestly believe that if I still possessed that particular quality today, I could take on any game that I wanted to and win.

Perhaps if I am able to find a bit of that intense focus that I possessed as a small child, my ability to game at a higher level will slowly return. It is certainly an experiment that I’m willing to undertake. I must admit that I miss beating Nintendo platforming classics in one sitting, and I certainly miss bragging about it. There is no gamer credit to be had in the fact that you were able to do something twenty years ago, after all! While the more cerebral games that I moved on to later in life have been satisfying to me, I will not deny that I envy others the quick twitch reflexes that I lost which were necessary for success in my favorite games back in the day. Perhaps it’s not too late after all?

This bit of nonsense has been motivating for me, if nothing else. As previously stated, this post was a small exercise in amusement for me for my natal day which I hope that you enjoyed. With luck, I’ll be able to bring you something more worthwhile soon. Until then, I hope that your skills stay sharper than mine!

If you feel like hearing more of my gaming prattle, feel free to follow me on Twitter. You can find me at @bejiita_buruma