Old Skool Lore - Final Round - Part 2 (LONG)
Yes, the scene was starting to wind down but we kept going anyway. We made some good friends at Gametown and played almost daily. Between the five of us there was usually at least one other person to play and it made our trips out to the arcades that much more fun, going as a group. Weâd play for who had to walk next door to Wendys or the Burrito shop and buy food. Like always, warez till midnight, then off to Dennys, then back to Tonyâs to play the consoles till four or five in the morning. This was around the time of the 3DO and a great time for console gaming in general.
As unloved as Super was, it was during this time that I played at my peak. I dissected Guile like never before. His normal moves were given less and less priority with each succesive version. His sonic boom delay seemed to get worse and worse and his flash kick became easier to counter. That meant positioning, timing and the mental game had to be that much better. I played with all six buttons, maximizing each one. Rather than hit the buttons with one finger, I played with my three middle fingers which allowed me to hit the buttons just a few hundredths of a second faster than the other guy. With every move I figured there had to be a use for it, if only as a way to enhance the mental game.
At the end of the night of gaming Iâd talk Tonyâs ear off about some new realization Iâd made about Guile.
Tony: âYeah, dude, youâre taking Guile to the next level but Street Fighter is kind of on the down slope now, you know?â
I honestly donât know why I stepped up my game like this given the scene was deteriorating. When I think back on it now I sometimes wonder. Why push so hard when there was no one to play? It was like I was trying to pump some life back into an era of gaming that I knew was heading towards an end. But that wasnât the whole of it.
All the signs of change were there: going from high school to college, moving out of my parents house, working at a job not just for spending money but to actually live on. I was 19, almost 20. I had a girlfriend, a car and bills to pay. Iâd been playing games since the 5th grade, since I was nine years old, since 1985. 10 years earlier my best friend had shown me Spy Hunter at the Round Table down the street and from that day forward each game I played, and mastered, became a sort of marking of the passage of time.
It wasnât just the Street Fighter scene that was coming to an end. It was, in a nutshell, the end of my childhood. I was growing up. Part of me still wanted to stay a kid.
In 1994, Super Turbo was released, hot on the heals of Super. We liked it and we played it, but it was tough to find good competition. It was tough to find any competition for that matter. Even out at the good arcades it was a treat when one of the old-skoolers would take a break from Slam Masters and play Super Turbo a few games.
I think this was also around the time of the Street Fighter live-action movie. We gathered up all the homies and crossed our fingers because when video games get turned into movies the results are often dissastrous. Our summation: it could have been worse. Sadly, it was the last acting gig for the esteemed Raul Julia. Thatâs akin to saying Babe Ruthâs last game of baseball was in his backyard with a wiffle ball bat.
On one of our forays to Barnes and Noble a few months before the release of the movie we were sitting in the cafe leaching the latest crop of game magazines when we noticed Ming-Na Wen was sitting at the next table.
Me: âDude, check this out. Isnât that the chick from The Joy Luck Club?â
Tony: âWhat page is that?â
Me: âNot in the ware-zine, you retard, at your three oâclock!â
Tony: âSuck the corn outta my shit, dude. Oh⌠hmm⌠let me go get a napkin so I can scope the full 360 rotational view.â
Tony: âHoly shit, dude, I think thatâs her. You know, I heard sheâs supposed to play Chun Li.â
Me: âDamn, really? Hmm. Thatâs kind of a shame. Anything Van Damme touches these days flys to the rental shelf with astonishing speed, dude. It could be career ending. Maybe I should ask for her autograph or something, and warn her to back out while she still can.â
Some of our conversation was overheard, though, we realized. When we looked over again, Ming-Na politely smiled and nodded at us and then left the cafe with the guy she was with, obviously not wanting the public attention.
1995 was when it all ended. Iâll probably take a lot of heat for saying that on a site that still preaches the gospel of Street Fighter but for myself and most of the old skoolers, that was the end of the golden age. That was the end, period. We hung on for awhle after that, but 1995 was more or less when it stopped.
From late 1994 to early 1996 several things happened. Darkstalkers came out and I immediately hated it. The cartoonish artwork had absolutely no appeal to me. The special moves were flamboyant and ridiculous and all sense of precision seemed to be absent from it. I couldnât imagine breaking the game down with such fanatical meticulousness as I had done previously with Super and Super Turbo. But as Capcom churned out a new fighting game every couple of months, it became clear that they never expected us to.
Then the Street Fighter Movie game was released. I played it once.
Tony: âWhatâd you think? Itâs crap, huh?â
In response I shoved the game away from the wall, unplugged it, and shoved it back into place.
One after another the old skool players gave the new stuff a try, quickly realized what was up, and left. And they more or less never came back to the arcades.
Then the anti-christ was born, except it was called Alpha. I played Alpha exactly one time while it was in the arcades. Thatâs how much I, and a lot of others, hated it. The gameplay was clunky and simplistic. The graphics were cartoonish and silly. The music was childish. It didnât have the feel or flow of Super Turbo. Guile was replaced with Charlie.
Me: âWhat the fuck is Charlie saying when he throws a sonic boom? âChronic-Jewâ? This game fucking sucks.â
Tony: âI think heâs saying âwonic-fooâ. I donât know, dude. I think I like the voices from Street Fighter 1 better than this shit.â
Me: âAnd tell me this. Why is it when you hit a fool, his brains go blasting out of the back of his head?â
Tony: âI donât know, dude. I think Capcom has lost their fucking heads for real this time.â
Tony played Alpha a bit but I just couldnât stand it.
Tony: âIt has some new shit, but NO ONE is playing seriously, you know? People just sort of play it, but thereâs no one like Thomas or Jay breaking it down and taking it to the next level.â
One day, I think around April or May of '96, we drove out to Playland. There really wasnât any competition any more by that time. People didnât even play Alpha much and Capcom just kept churning out more clones. Half the time weâd get out there and one of the sticks on Super Turbo would be broken. Weâd end up playing Bust-a-move or really old shit like Smash TV and Heavy Barrel. It started to seem kind of pointless.
But weâd been driving out there for the last four years, so what the hell else were we gonna do?
On this particular day it turned out we were going to turn right around and head back home. Playland had closed up for good.
So we spent most of our time at Gametown. One day I got a call from Tony and he said to get down to Gametown right away. I hopped in my car and got there about ten minutes later, just long enough for us to play one last game of Street Fighter as the rest of the games were being carted out. I donât even remember who won. All the friends were there and we watched them cart away Street Fighter. It had the solemnity of a funeral procession as we followed it out.
Gametown was for Tony what 7-11 and Round Table had been to me, a fixture of his youth. Thatâs where he had played games ever since he was tall enough to reach the sticks.
Me: âDamn, dude, weâre getting old.â
Tony: âHa⌠you fool. I hear you, though.â
And then it was over.
Thatâs basically how I remember it. I realize that this tale of the old skool days is a somewhat sweet, sappy and perhaps somewhat-dramatic accounting, but I canât help occasionally feeling nostalgic for those days. Anyone who wasnât there, anyone who wasnât as fanatical about all of it as we were, anyone who didnât get a first hand taste of the energy and excitement⌠just wonât quite understand.
At best theyâll smile and nod their heads politely. Like I said, we didnât play basketball or football. We werenât like those other guys. We carved out our own little niche in the world and if other people didnât get it, we didnât care.
But the thing was, we made those old skool days what they were. It wasnât our parents telling us what to do. It wasnât some jerkoff coach kicking us in the ass to realize a dream we didnât share and didnât want. We didnât do it for girls or money or because there was some big payoff down the road waiting for us. We just did it because it was so damn fun. It was something really special that we made great, and it was all ours.
The old man got up to leave, sighed and shook his head.
âYup, ainât nothinâ like it these days, and probably wonât be ever again.â
âend
Shouts out to all the dead homies. Biggest props to Tony (tescoman) and the fools who made the old great memories happen.