Memories

When I first saw the swirl I laughed. I'm pretty sure Sega paid money to someone for coming designing it, but that was ludicrous. The artist, I'm sure, accidentally placed his or her hand on top of a stove and then marveled at the second-degree burn. 

"This...is...it!" they cried out. "Eureka!" they exclaimed.

"Pathetic," I thought.

The brilliance of the swirl is not in originality, but in simplicity. The swirl is instantly recognizable to almost any gamer and usually evokes such emotions as happiness (it's the Dreamcast) and sadness (but it's dead), while also bearing out nostalgic feelings and memories. The Dreamcast was a prodigious videogame console.

B.D. Joe was the best.

Crazy Taxi

The first game I played was also the most memorable. Crazy Taxi was simple in concept yet satisfying in execution due to its frantic pace, great music and free-roaming gameplay. At the time I couldn't imagine graphics getting any better. The driver mannerisms as well as the different car models - not to mention the sprawling city-scape - blew my mind.

It was a really good party game, too. Every two-minutes (or five, depending on how many people were taking turns) you passed the controller off, hoping that your high-score would last just a little longer, that no one would be able to top it. They would, of course, but that just meant longer play sessions and more smack-talk.

Crazy Taxi Memory

The details are a bit hazy in my mind, but I'm going to try and relay this anyway. Feel free to jump in and correct me. In the letters section EGM, I remember a guy writing in and giving his harrowing experience while driving. At one point during his drive the man had to swerve to avoid something (or someone) and ended-up on the sidewalk, at which point he had to dodge a telephone pole and some signs, and made it back onto the road without breaking a sweat. He cited countless play sessions of Crazy Taxi as the reason his instincts kicked, making a great case for "videogames are beneficial" argument.

Stupid Nightmare and his stupid no-face.

Soul Calibur

Even though I consider Crazy Taxi my most memorable game, Soul Calibur was something else entirely. Not only was it a launch title, it was a graphic powerhouse, showcasing the power of Sega's new console. Hours upon hours I spent playing that game; perfecting my technique with Sophitia (what?) was a glorious road I happily skipped along, enjoying every minute and every detail.

Well, for the most part. Occasionally after an intense fight (or during) I felt as if I could just snap the controller in half. Luckily I didn't, not because I couldn't (the controllers were cheap), but because I couldn't afford to buy another one. Despite the infrequent bouts of anger towards the game, I always felt like I could improve, I could do better; I was punished only because my technique was off, I miscalculated. And that was the beauty of the game: balance. 

Soul Calibur Memory

When I finally purchased Soul Calibur, we had a Japanese exchange student living with us. Nightly he would barbecue my ego, then present it to me on a silver platter. A1 was served on the side. To say he was good would be an understatement. He was Mitsurugi in the flesh and could control the game version of himself with his mind. He was normally asleep when we played, something about a time difference between the United States and Japan. I'm not making this up. He was the Soul Calibur Wizard.

Evil or misunderstood?

Toy Commander

Sometimes games blind-side you and bring you back to a time when you were a small child, and your head was filled with impossible things that you wish could somehow be true. Toy Commander was a game about a kid with imagination. It was a simple story that justified being able to control toys (you were really the kid moving them around), but it was just a means to an end: flying around a toy airplane in a giant house.

There was a ton of freedom in that game. Exploring the house was such a pleasure that normally I would just forget about the mission at hand and scout around. One of my favorite things to do was fly as close to objects as possible without hitting them. It sounds stupid now, but at the time it was magical.

Toy Commander Memory

Unfortunately, my only real memory is a sad one. I rented the game and loved it, so when I finally saved up enough to purchase the game, the disc I bought didn't work. I went to return it but the game store ran out, so I never actually owned a working copy of this game.

Wishes

Hmm...

When I began writing this I had every intention of stating why I wished the Dreamcast should have been around longer. And maybe one day I will do that but for now I'm happy for what it was; a great console with wonderful games.

My wishes are only that anyone that picks up a Dreamcast will see what I saw, share the same game experiences I had, and appreciate Sega's last console for what it was: brief but unforgettable. Just like the logo.