“Dude, you’re cheating!”

“How come your guy is shooting so much faster than mine?”

“There’s no way you’re gonna ma-- whoa, you made it!”

These were common statements heard around my NES whenever I played games with friends. What was the cause of such youthful ire? The greatest button-mashing assistant ever to stretch from the classic grey console to its users completely impatient fingers: the NES Max Controller.

Suck it, Wily.

The Max was a marvel of late-80s engineering. Ahead of its time in design (note that the shape is similar to the Xbox S-type controller or everyday Xbox 360 pad, though much smaller), the Max allowed the user to cradle the controller calmly in his or her child-sized hands.

The larger, odd-shaped D-pad contained four solid buttons that served the same function as their cross-shaped counterparts, but also a sliding red button control that allowed for smooth movement across the screen – very helpful in 8-bit sports games and shooters.

But the NES Max’s greatest strength was not in simply redesigning what was already there, but in adding something more. Beneath the standard red A and B buttons sat smaller, more rounded, grey Turbo buttons.

Imagine the power an 8-year-old felt when faced with the realization that he no longer had to mash the controller in order to achieve that elusive high score, but could simply hold the button down for more firepower, more speed, more toughness... more of just about anything.

After I started using the NES Max, I never lost a fight in Ice Hockey. I scrambled for those precious extra yards in Tecmo Super Bowl. And, perhaps most importantly, I was able to whomp Dr. Wily’s evil minions in Mega Man 2 with the greatest of ease.  Gaming would never be the same. And my friends would never let me live it down.