The Martlet

I was homeschooled by Shigeru Miyamoto. Not literally, but subjectively through the games he created. Specifically those for the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) and Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES). Mario Kart was my first driving lesson. The Legend of Zelda provided me with wanderlust and an unrelenting desire to explore the outdoors surrounding my home. Star Fox taught me lessons of rolling maneuvers and conservation (“Use bombs wisely”).

Video games have not only played a big role in my childhood but helped shape who I am today. I am an expert mover. My natural ability to fit everything in the back of a truck can be attributed to my “elite” Tetris skills. In my house, I’m the electronics whisperer. Nintendo trained me to optimize the back end of my TV.

My brother Doug and I rented Battletoads on the day of the ’93 World Series game six. There was only one TV in the house so we had to sit through nine innings of baseball before we could play it. Needless to say, to this day I still passionately hate baseball for that reason.

Doug is five years older than me, which, when you are little, means you are always watching and waiting for your turn. It also means I never got to play the game or character I wanted (see: Perpetual Luigi Syndrome). It wasn’t often that I got to play single player but when I did, I’d try to beat the game as fast as I could before Doug could interrupt.

I’ll never forget or be able to live down the first time I beat Super Mario Bros. I was six or seven years old at the time and was well along in the game: World 8, Level 4 — the last castle. I was busy figuring out the pat- tern to reach Bowser when I felt a bathroom

tingle. I paused the game and threw the con- troller on the couch. As I was about to go take care of my business, Doug said, “If you leave that game, I’m going to reset it.”

I was confronted with the ultimate dilem- ma. Did I risk losing all the hard work I’d put into beating the game, leaving the princess to be forever fated to be in that “other castle”? I hadn’t used any warp pipes; this was a pure completion of the game. When would I get another chance to beat it on my own? I couldn’t live with being eternally doomed to wait for a second chance.

I beat the game. It was a soggy victory, but a victory nonetheless. And this was the most valuable lesson I’ve learned from video games: There is no shame in being determined and pas- sionate about what is important to you.