I apologise for the obscurity of this particular thread, it’s already been a long week and I’m already feeling explicitly groggy. What follows will likely have no substantial relevance nor any decisive resolution, but is something that has become somewhat of a troubling curiosity. So let me begin with a question; do any of you remember the first time you experienced a computer game? I’d personally relish the opportunity to regale you with a sentimental anecdote about inheriting the families NES, being presented with my first games cartridge or narrate the time I was baptised in the accumulated tears of my father, shed through disappointment at trying to complete “Echo The Dolphin”. But with all honesty I don’t remember. I can recall brief images and vaguely distinctive periods of interacting with a game in my formative years, but nothing solitary that can be specifically defined as my first.

Some incipient dementia or perhaps good old senility has likely diminished my nostalgia leaden experiences. If you are in your early 20’s or younger, particularly if you regard Pokémon Diamond and Pearl to be “retro”, then relating back to your first gaming experience may be easier to perceive. But for me, a man in his 30’s, with a number of late nights and copious amounts of alcohol consumed in the interim it’s a far more difficult moment to recollect. It is however evident from my parents favourable affinity for gaming that my exposure would have occurred from a very young age, with a very limited capacity to fully understand what I was watching. Exactly what games console it was is in itself hard to clarify?

The NES is the most likely candidate, certainly the more prevalent console that I recall. But it could just as likely be the SEGA Megadrive too, as this would have been available at a time when I was more self-aware. Memories of playing “TMNT II” “Super Mario” “Donkey Kong” and “Captain Bucky O Hare” are all clearly defined memories. But so to are playing “Sonic The Hedgehog” “Cap Attack” “Mickey Mouse And Donald Ducks Fantasy Of Illusion” and “Cool Spot”. It’s maddening not being able to recollect a moment of such significance. To attach a visual narrative to such a profoundly intimate influence of self discovery.

Perhaps there isn’t one singular moment , but rather a series of amalgamated experiences that form “that first moment”. It maybe that the pleasures of gaming presided through repeated collaboration as opposed to one isolated eureka point. Whatever the case is I find I’m afflicted by a deep vexing sorrow for the absence of such a hugely defining moment.

So again I beseech you curious reader; what game you remember playing first? Or have you too forgotten? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

Growing up there were only ever 3 careers I wanted to pursue: being Spider-Man, becoming a Ghostbuster or altering my own DNA to become an anthropomorphic turtle with my own renaissance artist inspired name and join the “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles”. It wasn’t until years later that a careers adviser assured me that these were not in fact legitimate means of employment. Way to crush my dreams madam. Referred to as “Hero Turtles” here in the UK due to the prohibition of the word “Ninja”, which censors deemed an inappropriate terminology, owing to the inflammatory hostility associated with the connotation, they were my idles. Whatever you want to call these conglomerate of teenage reptiles, their boisterous nature, penchant for Italian cuisine and memorable charades against the fiendish “Turtle Soup” loving Shredder and his hapless cohorts “Bebop and Rocksteady” were captivating. And even to this day I can still recite the theme song with rhythmic precision despite decades worth of absence.

Every Saturday morning I would tune in to watch their next scintillating escapades, trying to emulate my hero “Donatello”, by fastening my own cartilaginous shell to my back, fashioned from a turtle shaped potty lid I had and wielding my mother’s mop as a substitute bow staff. I even tried to apply to become a fifth companion by submitting a crudely written letter, sealed in a plastic pocket sheet and deposited in the nearest drain believing that the network of aqueducts would somehow deliver my message to master Splinter. Alas I did not receive an invitation for recruitment, as it was probably intercepted by the Rat king, but that didn’t deter me from accumulating a retinue of expensive merchandise. T-shirts, hats, lunch boxes and toys, so many toys. The Turtle van, Turtle Blimp and my most prized possession, the Turtle Sewer lair. But it was “TMNT II The Arcade Game” that I remember with the most affection.

Egregiously undermined as merely a “Double Dragon” imitator, TMNT’s II was a frenetic side scrolling beat ’em up that I’d literally play for hours, mother permitting of course. Battling your way through the altering environments and swarms of colour specific foot soldiers, that indicated their preferred weapon choices felt like being in the television show! You derive a great deal of satisfaction from clobbering numerous interchangeable aggressors with fervent aggression, abusing the “A” button with furious intensity. You had destructible environments, lampposts that could be used as projectiles, trash cans that concealed nourishing life-sustaining pizza and a boss to conclude each level. Not to mention the innovative simultaneous 4 player Co op introduced in later iterations that enabled me and my friends to assume the roles of our favourite Turtles. It may not have the depth or cultural status as many others on this list, but it’s simplicity was undeniably compelling. But what was most evocative about this game is the memories it conjures up from being a kid, namely my relationship with my father.

This game harks back to a time when the most prominent father figure in my life was my dad. We’d play TMNT II for what seemed like hours, but may only have been minutes. He’d play as Leonardo and I of course was Donny. Together we’d eliminate anything stupid enough to inhibit our progression, providing each other with refuge and facilitate the restorative properties of pizza to whoever needed most. We functioned as an efficient if competitive unit, with my dad boasting a greater ratio of kills to me. And though my father and I have drifted apart over the years it’s comforting to reflect on a time in my life when we were close. Not just as father and son but as friends too. And that’s why “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II The Arcade Game” is my #9.