My controller throwing moment happened because of summer of ’89 and Mega Man. I hurled my controller across the basement like I was Joe Nathan pitching for the Twins. Seriously… tossed it across the room. I remember the exact moment it happened too because my dad came stomping downstairs in his work attire (shirt and tie) asking me at almost midnight what that crashing sound was.
Poor NES controller. By then it was barely held together with electrical tape from other “incidents”. That thing hit the limit with that hellacious blue robot.
OK fine. I will admit I had some idea of what I was in for since I rented Mega Man 2 previously from Video Connection (kids… those were video stores with actual employees where you walked up to the counter with the empty box hoping they had your game in stock). I picked it out as a child because of the box art; big robot with a giant cannon for an arm = cool. Basic Math – Robots are cool, cannons are cool, Robots with cannons must be 2x cool.
Yeah…that cannon carrying robot kicked my ass.
Seriously though – not like I was some rookie. I beat Mario Bros. Once saved Zelda(Ocarina of Time not included here) and even ventured far into Ghosts ‘n Goblins (If you’ve played that game you know what a feat that is). Mega Man 2 though was on another level. It wanted precision I’d never known existed, pattern memorization that pushed my obsessive tendencies, and strategy with how you approached each boss that no game had yet asked of me. What other game made you take out a notepad to map out which boss you should fight first?
I was destroyed after that weekend rental. Did not make it past Air Man. Those flying tornado things and that damn song they play during his stage… I can hear it right now. I even tried to switch games and start another instead of admitting defeat like a normal human being would, but found myself fixated. I started saving my lunch money refusing to buy comics or candy until I could purchase my own copy. Took that Mega Man 2 cartridge home that Friday like it was Excalibur itself, determined to show this game who was boss.
Little did I know that the game would be boss for awhile.
What I loved about MM2 was how the difficulty and the post-boss areas that granted you each robot’s weapon worked so well together. That addition of being able to choose which order to take on each boss changed every decision you made. Do I take Metal Man first to get those sweet Metal Blades or Flash Man to allow me to pause time and cheat through sections? These decisions weren’t just for show – they actually changed how you played through the entire game.
I created charts and diagrams in my notebooks at school mapping out the best route and which weapons would be strong against what boss. My 7th grade math teacher, Mrs. Patterson, thought I was crafting together some sort of cheat device when I pulled out one of these charts. When she learned it was “just for videogames” she gave it back to me with this look of concern that I should devote as much time into my math homework. Sure lady, that probably would’ve been smart… but dividing fractions just isn’t the same as finally beating Quick Man after memorizing every laser movement pattern.
Those damn lasers. Quick Man’s stage may be one of the most evil levels devised in pixel form. Spawning tiny instantaneous death lasers that required near surgical precision with zero margin for error and seventeen ways to randomly kill yourself. I can still hear those lasers whine as they charge up before shooting you for the umpteenth time. Then they play that stupid little dying song….27 times. Straight. That happened on a Tuesday night. Which is why I threw my controller.
Sure, Flash Stopper lets you pretty much just walk through that section, but there was pride in doing it “The Right way”. Kind of like how I would take on every boss in the first game without taking shortcuts. My friend Mike would utilize EVERY convenient shortcut the games provided but I refused. “It’s not beating it if you cheat.” “It’s not beating it if you’ve never actually beat it.” touché friend…touché.
The soundtrack to these games was also phenomenal. How these composers were able to craft such catchy tunes that both encouraged you but also drove you crazy when you heard that song for the 30th time beating your head against the same boss. I can still hum Mega Man 2’s Elec Man theme to this day. So loud too that my fellow middle school students would give me weird looks when I’d sing it under my breath not knowing what the song was.
By the time Mega Man 3 came out I had grown to be semi competent. Slide meant so many options and Rush the Robot dog saved my butt more times than I care to admit. I’m not saying I didn’t rage quit, Spark Man ruined me with those stupid teleporting blocks but I died with purpose at least.
My basement was dubbed Mega Man headquarters. Complete notebooks were kept on each bosses weaknesses and stages hazards. Hand drawn maps of each stage with major pain points circled in red. Mega Man had become so much a part of my life that my parents became concerned with how intense I was playing. They even went as far to make me a “Mega Man curfew” of only being allowed to play for 2 hours. Leading to me haggling with them about whether or not taking notes counted as part of my play time. “It’s considered studying…” Yeah son…sounded about as pathetic as it looked.
Psychological warfare these games put you through is no joke. They build you up with somewhat easy levels at the start, only to crank the difficulty up to 11. Yellow Devil (one eyed bastard from MM1) splits himself into 4 parts and fires spit balls across screen that have you drawing out patterns just to memorize them. I learned the pause technique with him after countless winded trips up those elevators. Game pause >unpause x5 >attack. Boom. Done. Cheat? Yes. Will I feel bad about it? Not for one second.
Boss stages at the end of Dr. Wily’s castles are a total test of patience. Each section within these stages would throw challenges at you left and right, then after you complete them all you are given a boss rush of ALL the Robot Masters before you fight Dr. Wily. Crossing that finish line for the first time when I defeated Dr. Wily’s final form in Mega Man 2 was truly one of the most rewarding feelings. Hands were shaking typing this so hard I got. JUMPED off the couch and did a victory lap around our coffee table. So loud that I woke up the dog who was passed out after hours of me yelling at the TV.
MM traveled through the NES epoce and got better with each game. Mega Man 4 introduced charging up your arm cannon for more damage without using up your weapon energy. 5 and 6 saw minor improvements but neither lived up to the hype that MM3 left us craving for. By the time Mega Man 6 released on the NES in ’93 the NES looked ancient compared to its 16-bit competition.
Then Mega Man X was released on Super Nintendo and my love affair began anew. Ability to dash, wall jump, and upgrade your armor felt like an evolution of the series rather than a drastic change. Sure it was still gonna kill you (Storm Eagle’s spaceship with those moving wind rocks still makes me wanna cry), but with these new moves you felt like you actually had a chance. Ability to approach each hard section with various methods instead of just “how fast can I jump”.
Opting to take on Chill Penguin first was usually my go to plan in Mega Man X. Ice Piercer works fantastically on Spark Mandrill and Chill Penguin’s level wasn’t too tricky. What I loved about MM X was how you could replay stages and they would change based on what bosses you defeated prior. Take down Chill Penguin and you come across ice blocks in Flame Mammoth’s stage that you were unable to access before. It felt like more than just beating a boss and acquiring a weapon – you were progressing through the game in more ways than one.
Graphically and audio wise the SNES X trilogy hit a sweet spot for the franchise. Graphics allowed for more detailed animations and levels, and sound was crisp making your jumps and platforming feel that much more exciting. Storyline also progressed as well as shown through X4’s anime cutscenes. Story didn’t just revolve around “save the world from the crazy scientist”. Addition of Zero as your backup partner also changed up your play style. Sword slaying antics versus X’s run and gun feel.
Through all of these games there was one element that never changed. They wanted you to be perfect. Jump one frame too slow and it’s game over. Miss one opportunity to counter a boss and you’re dead meat. Mega Man games aren’t simply difficult, they will punish you for making the slightest of mistakes. Not changing difficulty settings and expecting you to learn from your deaths.
Learning each bosses patterns became key. Each Robot Master had tells before they would attack and learning each subtle clue would be what separated you from victory. I can still see Wood Man raising and lowering his blocks, Quick Man’s boomerang swooping across screen, and even Skull Man leaning away from you to defend. Those patterns will be burned into my memory forever.
Kids these days may think Mega Man games are violent because he blasts his enemies into smithereens, but I feel there is an innocent quality to them as well. Pixel graphics and cartoony robot enemies make you feel like a child’s game. Then you put that game in and realise it was made by people who hate kids with a passion. Best example of this is probably Mega Man 8 for PlayStation. Decided to toss in Saturday morning cartoon intros with some of the most button mashing gameplay Mega Man has ever thrown your way. Hate dips on snowboards yet?!? MEGA MAN.
Needless to say I’m not the frustrated player I once was when playing Mega Man. Taking a missed jump no longer results in a controller being thrown, but me simply stating “oops”. Teenage me would’ve Hulk smashed that wall by now. It’s not that I found these games to be easier (Mega Man 11 came out recently showing me how WRONG I was), I simply accept and appreciate these types of games more.
In an age of checkpoints, continue screens, and playable difficulty there is something to be said about Mega Man telling you to simply “git gud”. Challenge you with tough bosses and stages but give you the tools you need to overcome them. Die over and over and learn from your mistakes. Once you do defeat that stage boss you created you will feel a sense of accomplishment few other games can touch. Sure doesn’t work for everyone, but those of us that it does will forever love it.
I recently bought my nephew the Legacy Collection and watched as he encountered many of the same obstacles I did growing up. “It’s impossible!” He yelled after dying for the 10th time to Metal Man. I chuckled at how I said the exact same thing not too long ago and proceeded to tell him what Mike told me years ago. “It’s not impossible boss, it just wants you to be perfect.” Eye roll. Classic teenager move. But 5 minutes later I see him pausing and memorizing Metal Man’s bullet hell.
Mega Man and I have been through a lot. Broken controllers, sleepless nights, joyful celebrations, brutal deaths. Through all of it though Mega Man has given me more than just game memories. It gave me a series that wasn’t afraid to challenge me, a series that told me I could be perfect if I just practiced enough. A series that will make you feel like a total badass by demanding your absolute best. Push my buttons harder than any other series, but like any relationship we had our ups and downs. Those downs made reaching the end ever that much sweeter.
Metal Man’s stage is calling….damn he is. Those metal blades aren’t going to dodge me…are they? Guess I’ll find out. I’ve put enough hours into these games at this point that I should be damn near flawless. Oh who am I kidding….here we gooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Joe’s a history teacher who treats the console wars like actual history. A lifelong Sega devotee from Phoenix, he writes with passion, humor, and lingering heartbreak over the Dreamcast. Expect strong opinions, bad puns, and plenty of “blast processing.”
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