A Very Sad Gaming Moment I Once Had

Hello there dear readers, and welcome to video game story time, hosted by yours truly. If you're wondering when I'll continue my retrospective of Resident Evil, fret not- the best I can come up with is: soon. I'm afraid schoolwork has taken front and center priority in my life at the moment, but it doesn't mean I can't stop and rant about video games for a while every now and then. For now, enjoy my sad little tale of innocence lost and good times that have passed me by.

In my later years I just haven’t had as much time to play video games anymore as I’d like to. I guess this just comes with the territory of being an adult with responsibilities but as of recent days, it had been a very long time since I’d actually bought a game I’d never played before and set out to beat it. This particular game that I’d picked up long after it had been released was a game that had piqued my curiosity for quite some time- Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts. 

Now, as a child of the 16- and 64-bit eras, Banjo-Kazooie and its equally great (if not, better) sequel Banjo-Tooie were some of my favorite games of all time, and damn sure I was one of those kids waiting in vain for a Banjo-Threeie that never came. So many moons later, when B-K: N&B came out, I greeted the return of my long lost bear and bird duo with open arms. However, I, like many gamers with the same gaming background, was a bit puzzled to see that it was suddenly turned into…a racing game? Or something? What madness was this?

For this reason, in tandem with the fact that the game was panned by critics and gamers alike, and also that I had very little time and money to spare, I passed on picking it up for many years. When the time came that I had sufficient funds and availability to play a game, I decided to pick it up in the bargain bin of yesterday’s long forgotten titles at my local game store. I attempted to go in objectively as possible, ignoring all of the hoopla that had surrounded it and sticking to my own gaming instincts.

Without reviewing the game in its entirety, what I found was…well, not all that bad. Certainly no masterpiece, but deserving of all the hate it got? Not really, in my opinion. Sure, the controls are God-awful and the racing-based gameplay style pretty much sucked nearly all the fun out of the series, but it at least made for a semi-innovative game with decent playability and enough in-jokes about previous games to make any Banjo fan smile.

And admittedly, I did smile. Maybe not during some of the game’s more frustrating challenges, but enough to make me want to play through to the end of the game. But that’s where the smiles ended.

Of the game’s six worlds, five are entirely original. The sixth and final world, where the last challenge of the game takes place, is one that any fan of the series will instantly recognize: Spiral Mountain, also known as the home of Banjo and Kazooie as well as the starting point of both N64 games (and even the lesser known Game Boy Advance game, B-K: Grunty’s Revenge). Stepping into this world, even in a game that couldn’t possibly be more dissimilar to its predecessors, is nostalgia to the max.  Everything you remembered from the N64 games is still there; Banjo’s house, Grunty’s dilapidated lair, the vegetable garden, the hole in the ground created by Grunty after she plummeted from the tower in the first game, Bottles’ gravestone, and even the destroyed gate in the cave where you found a Stop n’ Swap item in the second game. 

Stepping into the world for the first time, I didn’t even care about attempting the final challenge. I just wanted to explore. It was like greeting a long forgotten friend for the first time in ages. And as I scooted around in my trolley, then took to the air in my ‘copter, just taking in all the sights and listening to the familiar and friendly spiral mountain tune, I just started feeling sadness rise up in me. It was the music that was getting to me. That happy-go-lucky spiral mountain theme made me even sadder than the depressed version that was in the second game. It was a sort of rearranged version of the song, plucked on an actual banjo and a bit slower than the original. It was that same tune, but there was just something behind it. Something deeper and forlorn-sounding. Just listen for yourself.

It really started to get to me when I traveled in my ‘copter up to the very top of Grunty’s old lair, where you can take a look at the spot from the very first game where you fought your epic final battle against the witch. There’s nothing at all to do here, but you’ll notice that it’s considerably smaller than what you remembered from the N64 days. As if it was only bigger in our collective imaginations when we were young. You know how everyone who was older than you always looked so much bigger when you were younger? 

Taking everything in from that perch on the lair, it just really seemed to hit me that things would never be the same as when I was young, when the excitement of gaming was new and fun. It only seemed appropriate that I was traversing a world that long ago had been the start of my grand adventures and was now the end. Not only the end, but an end with nothing to really even do except win a race and beat the game. And all the while that old song plays. That song that was trying to its best to be happy, but just kept coming out sad and tired. And that’s how I felt. Like a sad and tired adult, trying to recapture those glory days that were now gone forever.

It made me so sad, in fact, that I didn’t even want to beat the game. I shut it off and I haven’t gone back since. Whether it was intentional or not, that song really tugged at my heartstrings and still makes me sad to hear it to this day. So, have the best years of my life truly passed me by, just like that? I don't know for certain, but what I will say to all you kids out there is to enjoy every experience like it will never be the same again, because it probably won't be. Always enjoy the games you love, and the people you love, and everything you love, while you still have it. Because one day, you'll look back and realize that you just may never have those moments again.