My first true gaming experience that wasn't something like gameboy Lion King or Tetris was the all time favorate Pokemon Red. Yes red, no one played blue. NO ONE!
|No one gives a flying fuck about blue|
I remember Pokemon being one of the most fun games I'd ever played. Not because of the revolutionary concept of using an Rpg level system with constant character switches (i.e. the pokemon). Nay, my adoration went to infinity and beyond that kind of medial, lowest common denominator enjoyment. Mine was more profound and existential.
I spent a good 3 to five hours on this screen thinking that it was the game. The start button was a little above my level of intellect at the time, so most of my first experience of Pokemon involved me trying to figure out what order the Pokemon switched in (because the start screen rotates Pokemon).
But, seeing as I couldn't figure out how to start, you can imagine how my memory was.
One day I slipped and shit really went down and I got to name myself and Gary (who I named my name too). Problem is I couldn't read so I didn't really know what was going on. I thought I'd reached level two or something. The strange poke symbols would appear across the bottom in a box, then I would be instructed to press "a".
I even discovered a hidden secret. When you held down the "a" button the words came faster. I think the batteries ran out at some point during the process and I gave up and went somewhere to sit down and hit the ground repeatedly (That was my favorite game at the time).
Eventually I mustered up the courage to breach the swirling title screen and delve into the scrolling number of level two. I re-typed the names then, I made it. Level 3.
The portrait of Ash suddenly morphed into a distorted miget version of the healthy adolescent boy that had only just been shown on the screen. And I ended up in a room.
Now I explored a bit and I thought the house was the entire game. I thought that nothing existed outside of the upstairs and down stairs. THIS TIME however it was not my fault.
Bandit is confused
it hurt itself in confusion
Can someone, somewhere please explain to me who the fuck decided that the gray piece of tapestry on the floor constitutes as a fucking door. Most of my time was spent talking to my mom, trying to read what she was saying. I found the fucking potion, but I had no idea what that meant.
Of course, at that age it wasn't a bad game at all. Actually because of the surprises I thought the game was fucking brilliant. I loved how it incorporated three games into one, allowing me to remember order, press "a" rapidly and talk to mom.
Just wait till you hear about Professor Oaks parcel.
To be continued