You know how sometimes you stumble across an old box in your mum's loft and suddenly you're twelve again, arguing with your brother about who gets to be Yoshi? That happened to me last weekend when I found my N64 controller collection—four original grey pads, one with a wonky stick that drifts left like it's permanently steering into a skid. The muscle memory kicked in immediately. That three-pronged alien spaceship design that everyone mocked until…
There's something about sitting in front of a telly on a quiet Sunday afternoon, N64 controller in hand, watching a little hang glider drift over Birdman Island that just…gets you, you know? I've been thinking about this lately because I dug out Pilotwings 64 last week—proper cartridge, none of this emulation business—and within minutes I was back in that headspace where time moves like honey and your biggest concern is landing on the correct pad…
You know that feeling when you're digging through a charity shop's random box of N64 games and you spot something that makes you double-take? That's exactly what happened when I found Glover tucked between about fifteen copies of FIFA 98. The cover looked like a fever dream – this white glove character with cartoon eyes, holding what appeared to be a rubber ball. I'd heard whispers about this one on old gaming forums, usually accompanied…
The smell of a friend's basement in winter 1999 is burned into my memory—that musty carpet odor mixed with the electric warmth of a CRT that had been on for three hours straight. We'd gathered for what felt like a historic moment: someone had actually managed to get Resident Evil 2 running on Nintendo 64. Not just running, mind you, but looking… well, shockingly decent.I mean, we all knew the story by then. PlayStation had…
Right, so there I was in Electronics Boutique circa 1992, clutching a twenty-pound note that had been burning a hole in my pocket for three weeks. Sonic 2 was calling my name from behind the glass counter, but this enormous black contraption next to it kept catching my eye. The Sega CD. Even the name sounded expensive.The bloke behind the counter—middle-aged, thick glasses, definitely knew his stuff—was practically bouncing on his heels talking about it.…
My mate Dave was round the other day, watching me mess about with an N64 controller—the actual one, not some modern approximation. His kid picked it up and just stared at it like I'd handed him a relic from Mars. Three prongs? What's the middle bit for? Why's there only one joystick? Fair questions, really. But when I fired up Mario 64 and that plumber's face filled the screen, stretching and squishing as I waggled…
Saturday afternoon, 1997. I'm sprawled across the carpet of my mate Dave's living room, the kind with those swirly brown patterns that could hide Cheerios and shame in equal measure. The N64's been out for a year, and we've already worn grooves in Mario 64's castle floors, but today's different. Dave's sliding a new cartridge into that front-loading slot with the reverence of a priest handling communion wine."My brother got it from Blockbuster," he says,…
There's something deeply surreal about a game where the King of Pop transforms into a spaceship to fight aliens, and somehow it all makes perfect sense. I was twelve when Moonwalker landed on my Mega Drive, and honestly? It might've been the first time a video game made me feel like I was inside someone else's fever dream—in the best possible way.My mate Danny had gotten it for his birthday, and I remember the exact…
You know what still makes my palms sweat a bit? Walking past an old arcade cabinet running Virtua Fighter. Not the sweaty-palms anxiety of teenage social awkwardness—though there's definitely some of that muscle memory lurking about—but the good kind. The kind that comes from remembering when Sega didn't just make fighting games, they made *statements*.I was probably fourteen when I first saw Virtua Fighter running in the wild, tucked into the corner of our local…
There's something beautifully ridiculous about a plug-and-play console that promises to deliver forty-two games in one tiny plastic brick. When I spotted the Sega Genesis Flashback on a shelf last month, sandwiched between knock-off fitness trackers and bluetooth speakers that probably fell off a lorry, I felt that familiar tingle. You know the one. Same feeling I had when I first clocked the original Mega Drive in Dixons, all black plastic and attitude.The box screams…