We Never Realised There Were Minigames In Noddy's Playtime.
I can't remember if I've ever asked this before, but, if I have, it's probably high time I asked it again.
What mistakes, misconceptions and/or superstitions do you remember from playing videogames as a child? (Or, indeed, as an adult.)
For example, when my brother Joseph and I were kids, we'd often play Sonic the Hedgehog 2 on our Sega Master System II. Or, to be more precise, Joseph would play while I watched. I loved the Sonic games but couldn't play them myself; I couldn't handle being responsible for Sonic's life. I felt terrible watching Sonic the Hedgehog die and knowing it was my fault. (This is exactly why I can't play Supermassive games.)
The fourth stage of Sonic the Hedgehog 2 is the Sky High Zone, Act 1. At one point, this stage features a hang glider you're supposed to ride across a chasm. You can use the directional buttons to tilt the hang glider up or down in order to control its descent.
We did not know you could manoeuvre the hang glider. The preceding zone, the Under Ground Zone, featured mine carts you couldn't control at all; they just took you wherever they wanted to go. We assumed the hang glider was the same. In our heads, you got on the hang glider and you were at the mercy of the winds.
Which meant we couldn't get across the chasm.
Every one of our playthroughs of Sonic the Hedgehog 2 went like this: we'd play through the Under Ground Zone, which took maybe ten minutes, and then we'd throw ourselves fruitlessly onto the hang glider and fall onto the spikes below until we ran out of lives, and then we'd have to start the whole game over again.
There were maybe two exciting moments when we accidentally made it to the other side and went on with the game, convinced that the winds had been kind to us. But it was very rare for us to see any of the rest of the game. Almost every one of our many playthroughs of Sonic the Hedgehog 2 ended four stages in, with the remaining seventeen stages hopelessly out of reach.
And yet we kept on replaying the start of the game, and we enjoyed it! Thinking back, I'm amazed by how patient we were.
(Part of our enjoyment came from our absolute obsession with all the game's weird glitches. We were convinced they pointed to secrets waiting to be discovered, rather than just being programming oddities.)
Speaking of bizarre levels of childhood patience, I'm still impressed by thirteen-year-old me's willingness to play through almost the entirety of Final Fantasy VIII just spamming GFs in every battle, because I didn't understand the junction system. 'You have very low stats and every attack takes thirty seconds' is an absolutely ludicrous way to play that game, but somehow I persevered. (I persevered because I was really attached to Squall.)
And, of course, there's the time General Caraway told the sniper team 'you'll take the shot at 20.00', and I obediently waited until I had twenty hours on the game clock and was then puzzled when nothing happened.
Tell me of your own gaming misconceptions; I'd love to hear about them!
What mistakes, misconceptions and/or superstitions do you remember from playing videogames as a child? (Or, indeed, as an adult.)
For example, when my brother Joseph and I were kids, we'd often play Sonic the Hedgehog 2 on our Sega Master System II. Or, to be more precise, Joseph would play while I watched. I loved the Sonic games but couldn't play them myself; I couldn't handle being responsible for Sonic's life. I felt terrible watching Sonic the Hedgehog die and knowing it was my fault. (This is exactly why I can't play Supermassive games.)
The fourth stage of Sonic the Hedgehog 2 is the Sky High Zone, Act 1. At one point, this stage features a hang glider you're supposed to ride across a chasm. You can use the directional buttons to tilt the hang glider up or down in order to control its descent.
We did not know you could manoeuvre the hang glider. The preceding zone, the Under Ground Zone, featured mine carts you couldn't control at all; they just took you wherever they wanted to go. We assumed the hang glider was the same. In our heads, you got on the hang glider and you were at the mercy of the winds.
Which meant we couldn't get across the chasm.
Every one of our playthroughs of Sonic the Hedgehog 2 went like this: we'd play through the Under Ground Zone, which took maybe ten minutes, and then we'd throw ourselves fruitlessly onto the hang glider and fall onto the spikes below until we ran out of lives, and then we'd have to start the whole game over again.
There were maybe two exciting moments when we accidentally made it to the other side and went on with the game, convinced that the winds had been kind to us. But it was very rare for us to see any of the rest of the game. Almost every one of our many playthroughs of Sonic the Hedgehog 2 ended four stages in, with the remaining seventeen stages hopelessly out of reach.
And yet we kept on replaying the start of the game, and we enjoyed it! Thinking back, I'm amazed by how patient we were.
(Part of our enjoyment came from our absolute obsession with all the game's weird glitches. We were convinced they pointed to secrets waiting to be discovered, rather than just being programming oddities.)
Speaking of bizarre levels of childhood patience, I'm still impressed by thirteen-year-old me's willingness to play through almost the entirety of Final Fantasy VIII just spamming GFs in every battle, because I didn't understand the junction system. 'You have very low stats and every attack takes thirty seconds' is an absolutely ludicrous way to play that game, but somehow I persevered. (I persevered because I was really attached to Squall.)
And, of course, there's the time General Caraway told the sniper team 'you'll take the shot at 20.00', and I obediently waited until I had twenty hours on the game clock and was then puzzled when nothing happened.
Tell me of your own gaming misconceptions; I'd love to hear about them!