“Grateful Gamers, Greatful Games: Thanksgiving with the Pixels!”
9 min read
Seated at our own virtual Thanksgiving table, we at The Pixels want to celebrate by recounting the games we are most thankful for. These are the games that delighted us, intrigued us, got us through hard times, or made us think more deeply about our lives. So, grab some pumpkin pie and kick off the feast as we give thanks for these important games in our lives.
-ProfNoctis, Editor-in-Chief
I’ve come to realize that one reason why I’m thankful for video games is that they represent key familiarity and stability in a life dominated by change. My childhood was in a constant state of flux. I can’t count how many times we moved, before and after my parents’ divorce. Holidays became… complicated.
Once my family and I left the islands and moved to the mainland, things changed again. I went from family complexities to friendship complexities. All of the friends I’d ever made I was suddenly separated from by half of the Pacific ocean. So I got online.
StarCraft kept me in touch with a lot of old buddies. That and Yahoo! Chess, but I figured StarCraft would be more interesting to read about. Mind, I didn’t always get to play with my friends. Turns out a 5- to 6-hour time zone difference is a punk, but we managed. I stayed in touch chatting about tips n’ tricks. We ran a multiplayer match sometimes. I realized Family can be broken and geographical distance can become an issue, but video games were more than toys. They were tools to keep in touch with my ohana overseas and my friends that I loved like family. There was nothing quite like destroying ‘em from miles away. Exhilarating. What a Zerg rush!
-Red
I once found myself at a quite difficult crossroads in my life. I was close to being flat broke, had no stable work, I was in a relationship that was steadily growing very sour, and my parents were on the brink of divorce.
I remember going for a walk to a local shop to find a cheap and cheerful dinner for one. I came away with a microwavable cheeseburger. For some reason, there was a promotion on the packet for a new Deus Ex game that was about a year away from being released. I remember telling myself, convincing myself there and then, that things would be better when the new Deus Ex came out.
When Human Revolution released, things still weren’t exactly sunshine and rainbows but I’d got myself a full-time job and a regular income. Sad things were happening in my home life but positive steps were being made, and the five times I played through Human Revolution in the following year were a comfort blanket to me when I needed it most. I may not have asked for it, but I needed it.
I cherish the times when my family and I would sit in the living room playing games together. There are a few games that stick out to me that hold strong memories. Some of my youngest gaming memories involve my family of four having our own houses in the original Animal Crossing (the town was called Pooter by the way). There were numerous nights when we stayed up late bowling on Wii Sports.
Mario Kart strengthened the bond between us siblings and parents because it brought out a competitive nature in everybody and it was fun. As a kid, I probably didn’t enjoy losing but I had played so much that I eventually got better. My strongest memories consist of me playing alongside my sister. Mario Kart Double Dash kicked off a rivalry but also it influenced our friendship greatly. It’s our signature game if we need to play off.
Or course things are more complicated with my family now that a lot has happened since I was a child. I am still thankful for those times though, because these are some of the most important people in my life, and these are small things that made life worthwhile back then even if I didn’t realize it.
Think back. That first game. The concept of “play”, of a story and images contained on a CD, a cartridge, a floppy disc. What was the very first one, the one that opened your eyes to the world of video games?
For me, before Donkey Kong Country, before Mario, before Commander Keen, there was Carmen. I remember sitting at our first computer, barely able to read, definitely unable to understand “dial-up”, navigating through the Prodigy Internet system to find Carmen. Sure, I was learning about the world and places and landmarks, but most important of all, I was having fun. I was experiencing a STORY in every game. I needed more. Eventually, I moved on to Kings Quests and Reader Rabbit and DOS games, and from there to SNES and onward, but the very first one, the kicking-off point for a lifelong love, I owe it all to Carmen.
Yeah, I know, super original right?
But hear me out here! In 1997 I was 12, and had just come out of hospital after having an I’ll fated fight with a BMW getting off the school bus. I’d never played an RPG in my life, but my dad had just picked up a new PS1. I must have read the review for it in a magazine a hundred times so, when I finally played it, it literally changed my world and the way I view storytelling! Thanks FFVII!
Thirty years ago this Thursday, a game came out here in North America that would change and eventually save my life.
I’m not trying to be melodramatic when I say that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Sonic the Hedgehog 2. But I will say that this game and this character have saved me from making a lot of terrible and consequential decisions. Imply what you will from what I say.
Whenever I’m at my lowest, my darkest and my most desperate of times, I can count on Sonic to bring my spirits up. From the bouncy, cheery greens of Emerald Hill Zone, Chemical Plant’s kickin’ beat and all the way to Metropolis Zone’s funky tunes and difficult challenges, Sonic 2 introduced me to a world where Speed, Justice and Adventure were tantamount to a life worth living. As I age and I live and continue living, the feelings that this classic Genesis game gave me have never faltered, never faded. I find more to love and more to be thankful that Sonic is in my life. I’m also thankful to him for giving me continuing opportunities to share my love for this character to anyone who’s willing to listen (or in Red’s case, forced to ‘cuz I never shut up about him, haha!).
So, for this Thanksgiving, even though I’ve already celebrated it a month ago (Thank you Canadian Thanksgiving haha), I’m here to say that I’m #ThankfulForSonic2. Because you all wouldn’t have Coffee without the supersonic rodent at his back cheering him on.
I remember being in a youth bowling league when I was around 8 years old or so. Since we lived in the middle of nowhere, there wasn’t a plethora of arcades to frequent. Just the bowling alley. In this lone bowling alley was an arcade machine, I had never seen something like it before. Dazzling cartoony graphics, a cherry red joystick, multi-colored buttons, and an explosive sign that read Metal Slug.
From the day I laid eyes on this cabinet I knew that I wanted to play it every chance I got. I used almost every quarter to my name, begged my dad for one more game, and ended up becoming fairly good at it. I eventually was able to get through the first level in one quarter and worked my way through level two. Unfortunately, the main goal of my visit to the bowling alley wasn’t to play that arcade cabinet. Usually, after one attempt, I would be torn away from the machine to start bowling. I still remember the day that I walked into the building to find the Metal Slug cabinet was gone. Replaced by some other game that was less interesting to me.
When I think about Metal Slug, I can smell the cigarette smoke in the air, the sound of balls rolling down the lanes, and the taste of Pepsi. To this day, I still credit Metal Slug as the first video game I ever played. If it wasn’t for its flashy visuals, low cost, and fantastic soundtrack I may not be here before you talking about video games. I’m forever thankful that my father signed me up for that bowling league because without it I may not have discovered my love for video games. Metal Slug holds a dear place in my heart and I still frequent it to this day. I still can’t get past level 3 without dying though!
Castlevania: Symphony of the Night is a masterpiece of a game. It combines some of the best art, music, world design, and gameplay of its generation into a complete work of quality that is seldom approached in this medium. The castle that serves as the setting for this adventure feels very much alive (or undead, as the case may be), and exploring it is a joy. The playable characters move with a fluidity heretofore unseen in the series, and the various weapon combinations are engaging to experiment with. The castle is brimming with secrets to uncover, and experimentation is often rewarded.
I first played this game around Thanksgiving, and I often revisit it during November. It is comfort food gaming for me, and I enjoy every trip I make to Dracula’s castle. At the very least, I’m thankful it isn’t Ghosts ‘n Goblins!
In 1999, covert espionage really wasn’t my thing; I picked this game up on a lark. I heard enough hype that I wondered why so many people were writing about this.
This was before social media. I had people in my high school telling me this game was incredible. Despite the game having been out for about two years, I succumbed to peer pressure.
It’s hard to talk about a Metal Gear Solid title without mentioning Kojima’s severe aversion to nuclear weapons. I was always an Earth-conscious person; in elementary school, I thought one of the biggest threats to the planet was pollution – I still feel this way, but not to the same intensity. However, to have Mei Ling talk about nuclear weapons in such a stark manner: that their use is “evil” haunted me.
A game haunted me.
I’ll always have gaming moments that make me go “wow.” Seeing rain for the first time in Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, the first time I beat Mega Man 2 at 8-years-old. I was so excited. But no game has given me a lasting personal value like Metal Gear Solid. Cheesy as it may sound, I’m thankful a game could make me feel that way.
When I was a kid, my dad and I went to Blockbuster Video every Friday to pick up a video game to play for the weekend. One weekend, we rented Final Fantasy IV. I was still too young for the gameplay systems and text-heavy storytelling in the game, so I spent the weekend sitting in my dad’s lap as he helped me figure out battle strategies and sound out words like “behemoth” and “Leviathan.” After returning the rental, Dad surprised me by purchasing the game. Every afternoon when he got home from work, we would continue our adventures alongside Cecil and Kain. Dad and I would talk about the plot. We mourned the fallen (Palom and Porom’s sacrifice hit me hard…). We theorized about the fates of the surviving characters. The overarching theme of family, betrayal, and a complicated father-and-son relationship affected me, even as a child. When we finally beat Zeromus, it felt like the greatest accomplishment of my life. And my dad was right there celebrating it with me.
Through the years, Dad and I have had a complicated relationship. However, memories of that time adventuring with my dad during Final Fantasy IV helped me stay connected to him. Because of that game, I was able to remember the best things about him and ultimately forgive what needed to be forgiven. Sure, Final Fantasy IV kicked off my love for JRPGS and set me on a path that would eventually earn me a doctorate. But the biggest reason I’m grateful for Final Fantasy IV is that it gave me some of the fondest memories I have of my dad. For that, I am especially thankful.
