I played a lot of Game Boy games when I was a kid, and I never got any good at them. Fifteen years later, I’m revisiting these games so that I can finally achieve victory. This is Daniel VS. Childhood.
WrestleMania 2000 for the Game Boy Color was my crude introduction to the art of professional wrestling. I’d heard of it before and wasn’t very impressed with the idea, but I became enamored when I received it for Christmas, condensed into 8 bits. “People fight and they don’t hurt each other? This is the best idea ever!” And it will remain the best idea ever until scientists invent ways to consume whole pizzas without feeling like you want to die the next day.
What happened after I got it is something that I’ve hesitated to tell people about for years. But since there isn’t much to say about this game other than “Punch. Chokeslam. Win.”, I may as well describe it now.
I created my own wrestling federation, using the limited functions of WrestleMania 2000. I would assign championships and time matches and evolve storylines, and I would do this for three years. I had a giant blue notebook that I kept all of the results of my “shows” in, and I kept it more carefully hidden than any poetry or journal. Deep down, I was not the secretly romantic young teen, or the teen with painful, hidden angst. I was the teen who logged pro wrestling “events” that he’d personally conducted on his Game Boy Color for 154 weeks running.
It was my own special equivalent of those arthouse filmmakers who direct movies that last eight hours. I had a few friends at the time, but they never knew. The only person who had any clue about what was going on every Tuesday night was my brother, who began to notice that I was spending a lot of time fiddling with my stop watch and jotting a note down after I’d just gotten done playing video games in a three minute spurt. He never said anything, probably out of pity. Or maybe he kept my secret safe because spending your evenings crafting a narrative about “Stone Cold” Steve Austin and Kane’s year long feud is the literal definition of “He aint hurtin’ anybody.”
Punch. Chokeslam. Childhood win.
Next: Rampage: World Tour