The Top100 with more parts than readers goes on! Today, Mario Karts and Zeldas abound!
Intro Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Mario Power Tennis (GC)
I never thought myself much of an athlete. Sure, I enjoy my fair share of kayaking, lacrosse, skiing, ping pong, biking, skim boarding, swimming, extreme hide and seek, extreme croquet, and martial arts, but an athlete? Certainly not.
Then I hit the courts of Mario Power Tennis. I felt the fuzz of the tennis ball in my palm, its weight and firmness that belied its bounciness, the heft of my racket, and stared down the net and my opponent beyond. I eyed out my serve, and in the time it took for the ball to travel upwards, then back again to meet my racket, I had played out the entire rally in my head a dozen times in a dozen different ways. I saw an ace, a return-ace, and a point fought over a dozen strokes. Then a dozen more.
My racket struck the ball and sent it wildly down center court. Every time with the ferocity of a fireball. It was only during the rally itself that I would whip out my trademarked Bubble Drop, though generally I would preserve my energy so that I could chase any return any distance, sliding across the court in my shell.
Mario Power Tennis gave me a taste of some of the most fun I’ve ever had, and inspired me to dedicate my life to the sport of Tennis: at least until I learned the Wimbledon didn’t accept turtles.
Super Mario 64 (N64)
For the most part, I was a brave kid. I’d explore the wilderness without worry. Go on adventures big and small, in the sunlight or the dark. If I saw a wild bear, I probably would have tried to hug it (and died).
But I wasn’t fearless. I was scared of one thing more than anything else.
The face of evil.
It haunted the halls of an otherwise beautiful castle, an otherwise carefree world. I was afraid of even walking into the same room as it, scared I might accidentally jump too close and be sucked into a land of never ending lava. Even my older brother and cousin hesitated to enter its domain. But Bowser had to be stopped, and while I chipped off the old block for the dozenth time on my turn, only they had the courage to progress. I’d watch, ready to cover my eyes at a moment’s notice, worried that Bowser, whose menacing laugh we’d head several times already, would pop out of the lava and destroy us.
That never happened, of course. They defeated Bowser and Peach’s Castle was saved. And a decade later, I’d get to try my hand at revisiting these nightmares. And conquer them myself.
Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles (GC)
Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles, more than so many other games, really felt personal. Perhaps because it required each player have their own screen. Certainly the Kupo Mail had a part in it- the game gave you a family, too, a family that would write and worry about you. And it was one of the first games I played with my brothers where each of us got to create our own characters, and grow them from novices to fierce warriors. The caravans too certainly lent the story a very cozy feel- we were, after all, travelling long distances from home with just each other for comfort. And the music had a way of getting into my head with the rest of it.
It should be no surprise then that Crystal Chronicles inspired me wondrously outside of the game, spawning dreams and writing and art and all manner of creative endeavors. Crystal Chronicles just pulled me in so easily, and wouldn’t let me out, no matter what. Not that I tried to escape: I loved every moment of it.
Game worlds aren’t often inviting- they generally are rife with bloody conflict, after all. But Crystal Chronicles had one I wanted to be a part of, to roll with some Clavat and Selkie babes across the continent, to shut down evil chefs and giant crabs and stay the miasma.
Tetris (DS)
I picked up Tetris DS around the time my classmates were all playing it on their phones- bragging when they hit level twelve or twenty. But I had grown up on Tetris, starting on the Gameboy. Level twelve and twenty were child’s play.
So I started bringing my DS to school, something I had never before done with any console, mostly because my parents wouldn’t have allowed it. High School apparently meant we were old enough to make our own decisions. I’d sit in my class, take my tests, and upon finishing them whip open my handheld and power through a bout of Tetris. A bout, as every time I played it was a battle against myself, a dedication to my improvement, a testament to my dedication. As that’s what Tetris is all about: playing endlessly, for as long as possible, without getting bored and wishing you could lose and plug in another game.
It’s difficult to give up, though, when you know you’ll never have the patience to play nothing but Tetris for a week straight again. Which means you’ll never have a better chance to improve your high score.
Until, invariably, next week comes along and you’re still listening to the Tetris theme play every twenty levels.
The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker (GC) - Top10 Awardee
Imagine being shackled to corridors. Directed to a high score or finish line. Imagine the reason for every action you make is carefully coordinated and choreographed by dozens of people sitting at a desk. Imagine following routine after routine, an office day job times one thousand. Imagine having no choice but to do as you were told.
Then imagine you were finally set free. The door to your penitentiary has been broken down. The chains at your wrists snapped at last. Imagine that first step outside in twenty years, knowing you were wrongly incriminated, feeling the sun at your back, smelling the fresh air and not your cellmate for the first time.
That’s what playing Wind Waker was for me. It was learning that there was more than one path to walk. That there were, indeed, no paths at all, but an open sea that would take me wherever I sailed, wherever I wanted to go. And that, wherever I ended up, there would be substantial content awaiting me, a reward well worth my time and energy. A dome shape hiding a hole, a marathon of enemies awaiting my discovery on an island I had thought I knew everything about. A great fairy who offered me the greatest upgrades I could ask for, more bombs or arrows or what have you.
Wink Waker was a lesson of what games could be, and I only wish more open world games would learn from its structure. In too many, you see a place on the horizon and you hope you can go there. And you can, but what’s awaiting you but a pretty vista? In Wind Waker, it’s a hope of what you’ll find, not if. Because there will be a heart piece, or several, or a chest full of hundreds of rupees, or a mini-dungeon. Or a private island to which you can acquire the rights.
The thing Zelda games understand more than any other game is that a world has to be worth saving. When I play a game like Skyrim, I’m not too concerned what happens to the people who walk around town, or those who shout at me for entering their city when I’m not allowed. So saving them from whatever it might be they need saving from is low on the list. But in Wind Waker? I love every character from Windfall. I love Windfall itself. So when the skies are dark and cloudy and the rains fall heavily upon this once cheerful island, I am prepared to do whatever it takes to save it, and I am prepared to do it now, even if that means dropping everything that has to be done. There are times and places for getting distracted, and there are times and places for getting things done. Wind Waker balances those two perfectly. And it does it with personality.
Which means those moments when you are directed to do something, whether to defeat Ganondorf and save the world, or to help Valoo with that pesky enormous bug, when your actions are carefully coordinated and choreographed by dozens of people sitting at a desk, you don’t notice. Because each and every action you take, you take because you want to. And that’s the beauty of The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker, and why it’s my favorite Zelda game of all time, and one of my Top10 awardees.
Bleach Blades of Fate, Dark Souls (DS)
Long car rides to school had to be filled with something, and ours were filled with games varied and plenty throughout the years, but no game was played as much as Treasure’s pair of Bleach fighting games on the DS.
It was an addiction, truly, if not a disease quite like Meteos. Meteos made you play. Bleach DS made you want to.
You may have heard of our Fighting game buying spree that acquired such titles as Street Fighter IV, BlazBlue, Arcana Heart and Virtua Fighter 5. It all started with Bleach DS. With hours after hours of two versus two bouts, battles against CPUs as much as each other, strings after strings of long combos, and shunpo after shunpo avoiding danger and setting up an offensive presence, Bleach proved we were ready to expand our library with games that had seemed boring in the arcades.
None of them seemed to top Bleach, save maybe BlazBlue and P4A, but that’s just the way it is. It’s rare enough a licensed game builds loyalty to a developer, but rarer still that it sparks a love for an entire genre.
Cheers to you, Bleach.
Mario Kart Double Dash (GC)
If you need a wall taken down, then trust me, I’m your guy. Wall, bridge, cah, building, kaht, you name it. Nobody can quite juggle four bombs in one hand while simultaneously driving an unlicensed vehicle through tight indoor corridors or around construction sites with more color than the hippie movement like I can.
And by me, I mean we, ‘cuz I don’t do this job alone. How’s eight live bombs- and I don’t just mean lit fuse, though you better believe those fuses are lit. I meaning living, wiggling, struggling bombs. Cuz ain’t nothing get a job done more efficiently than an explosive or several.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. There’s no way a green turtle and a fat Italian business man can possibly be better than some porky, ex-carpenter guy in overalls. But that’s only because you haven’t seen our work. You haven’t seen our bob-ombs.
Mario Kart 7 (3DS)
Mario Kart 7 was the first time I realized that Mario Kart’s Grand Prix is more of a two-player, co-op campaign and less of an every man for himself hunt for victory. It was also the first time I understood people’s complaints about the series rubberbanding AI.
Only they don’t rubberband. They’re wolves. They hunt down human players with animalistic coordination and thirst, stalking through the trees and striking when their pray is sufficiently afraid of losing his lead. Blue shells, red shells, green shells, bananas, bombs- whichever it is, it is lobbed or fired with pinpoint accuracy.
After several hours of play, my brother and I came to a very important realization. This scrutiny, this intense and pointed hatred, was always only for Player 1. The lobby’s host. Every shell and banana was intended for a single target, not every human player.
Suddenly, the battle for first place became a very simple thing. Player 1 would pick Daisy and stick to 1st or 2nd place for the entire race, taking all the hits. 1st and 2nd are chosen for very specific reasons: 2nd takes all the AI’s red shells, while 1st would take the blues. Daisy’s intent is not to win, in the end. Daisy’s intent is to ensure Player 2’s victory in a number of ways. First and foremost, the aforementioned taking one for the team. Second, by getting second place, Daisy ensures the AI get fewer points per race, meaning it’s okay for Player 1 to slip up once in a while. Third, by the third race Daisy knows exactly which AI is destined to be first, and can target them specifically throughout the entire race, ensuring they drop to the bottom of the scoreboard in no time.
In this manner, the Grand Prix becomes impossibly easy, and impossibly entertaining. The next time you’re frustrated by blue shells and cheap AI, bring along a Daisy. Bring along a friend.
The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword (Wii)
Every Zelda game has a moment in which I am pulled absolutely on board. Generally, I enjoy myself from the very first minutes, but there’s always a moment where I turn giddy for the twenty-forty hour adventure ahead. In Windwaker, it was when I was shot out of a cannon. In A Link Between Worlds, it was when I first heard the Mother Maimai tune. In Skyward Sword, it was when I was on top of the statue of the goddess with Zelda, and I thought for a moment Link might be treated to that kiss we all know he deserves, and has deserved for DECADES.
Then she pushed him off. What a tease!
Of course, Link never did get that kiss, even at the end of the game. Seriously, what’s a guy gotta do these days? Mario gets kisses all the goddamn time.
Anyway, Skyward’s Zelda was endearing in (almost) every way (prude), playful, cheerful, and willing to go out of her way to protect her people, no matter what it took. Even if she had to be a rock for I don’t know how many years while Link helped some townsfolk with their, in hindsight, very minor problems.
But it wasn’t just Zelda that sold the game to me. Link’s rivalry with Impa was fun to behold- at first she annoyed me to no end with all this “you’re late” garbage. Until it was her turn to be late and I was able to turn that around on her with all the smugness such justice required. Lot’s of “Fuck yes!” and laughs were shared at that moment.
And the end? When Ghirahim has my gal way down at the bottom of the hole, and there’s all of a thousand bokoblins between me and her, and Link turns to them with a face that says, “I’m about to fuck ya’ll.” And there’s no getting out of his way, not when a single swipe of the baddest Master Sword in the world drops them dead. And the battle with Demise was so tight, the arena one of the coolest ever.
Zelda has always nailed those little moments, and Skyward Sword was no exception.