When we picked our games of the gen­er­a­tion in is­sue 272, we in­vited you to share your mo­ments from the same era. Here, as promised, is a se­lec­tion of your con­tri­bu­tions, en­cap­su­lat­ing an ob­ses­sive orb hunt, a dose of Call Of

Duty rage, and a leap into the un­known. I loved Crack­down, one of my favourite games on 360. Com­pleted it a cou­ple months after re­lease, found all the 300 se­cret orbs rel­a­tively eas­ily. Spent hours search­ing for the agility orbs, got to 499. Spent hours scour­ing Pa­cific City for the fi­nal orb, couldn’t find it, drove me mad. Fast-for­ward three years: Crack­down 2 came out, but it felt wrong to play un­til I found that 500th agility orb, so I loaded up the orig­i­nal again.

Cue more hours search­ing. Then, run­ning over a roof in La Mu­gre, past some­where I had been hun­dreds of times, I heard the agility orb noise – it was there, just be­low me. I couldn’t be­lieve it – I swear I’d run past that spot time and again, but had al­ways missed it.

Free Run­ner achieve­ment earned, I called my older brother, who also loved

Crack­down, to tell him about it, as I was pretty sure my wife wouldn’t un­der­stand what I was so happy/re­lieved about.

Si­mon Down­ham

Au­to­ball. Or more cor­rectly and po­et­i­cally: Su­per­sonic Ac­ro­batic Rocket-Pow­ered

Bat­tle-Cars. Or most com­monly: SARPBC. It was there from the be­gin­ning. Not from my begin­nings as a PC gamer more than 30 years ago, but from when I first dis­cov­ered con­soles. That first night after I un­boxed my shiny new PS3, a friend came over to cel­e­brate the oc­ca­sion with some splitscreen-trial-ver­sions-of-what­ever-is-out­there ac­tion. When you in­cluded “cars“as a search cri­te­rion, you found your­self down­load­ing the tiny trial ver­sion of

SARPBC pretty in­stantly. And there it was: like soc­cer in an en­closed gym, only that in­stead of ath­letes your team con­sists of one-to-four lit­tle RC cars, dwarfed by a gi­gan­tic ball that you were sup­posed to drive into the op­po­nent’s goal. And there the ball ex­ploded! The game­play was so straight­for­ward, the con­trols so con­cise, the physics so re­lat­able, the graph­ics so crisp… We fell in love with it straight away! We played the whole night, and within days my buddy got a PS3 him­self. And then we went on­line…

In all my life there is not one game, or even game se­ries, with which I’ve spent re­motely as much time. And I wouldn’t want to miss a mo­ment! After a few par­tic­u­larly good matches two months ago, I got a mes­sage from one of the Big Play­ers, say­ing, “You‘re almost there“, and I smiled. Th­ese days the pres­sure is mostly gone, my gnarled hands re­lease their clutch on the con­troller, and it is still as much, if not more, fun as on the first night, our Au­to­ball.

To­bias Nowak

A pair of glances – those of El­lie and Ri­ley after the photo booth breaks down in The

Last Of Us DLC. Never in games have I seen char­ac­ters ex­press emo­tions with such sub­tlety as achieved there. After the mo­ment passed I paused the game, closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and rev­elled in the skill of Naughty Dog’s an­i­ma­tors. Pre­vi­ously, only the best film direc­tors were able to evoke such a re­sponse from me, but Naughty Dog had once again raised the bar.

Ben­jamin Thomp­son

I re­mem­ber the first time I had a mo­ment with Call Of Duty. The an­noy­ance, the rage that filled me at be­ing killed for the umpteenth time, over­whelmed me. After all, I was clearly the best player in the world at the time and there­fore noth­ing should be dom­i­nat­ing me so ef­fi­ciently. I couldn’t shout be­cause the neigh­bours would hear and re­mind me of the un­spo­ken noise agree­ment shared be­tween friendly neigh­bours, but no one was in the room so I charged my throw­ing arm and raised my 360 con­troller above my head. I leapt out of my seat, took aim at the empty floor in front of me, and threw it as hard as I could on the lam­i­nated floor­ing that had only been laid two weeks pre­vi­ously. Rather than solv­ing all my prob­lems, award­ing me with the re­venge I sought on the evil that had over­taken my prow­ess and skill, the con­troller bounced right back and hit me squarely in the fore­head.

I blinked, frozen in my post-throw­ing stance, sat down, and thought about my ac­tions. After a long think, I changed my gamertag to some­thing that would re­mind me to stay cool, stay calm and would con­vey my mes­sage to those around me. And since that fate­ful day, I haven’t thrown a tantrum, con­troller or any sort of ob­ject in dis­gust at a game ever since. And my gamertag hasn’t changed ei­ther.

Max Boul­ton

Su­per Mario Galaxy com­pletely sub­verted the 3D plat­form­ing genre and is an ab­so­lute de­light from start to fin­ish. There isn’t a weak mo­ment in the game: the lev­els are in­tri­cate, the sound­track is fan­tas­tic, and the graph­ics are phe­nom­e­nal, even now in the HD era. True, it didn’t have a real story, but it was about the story you forged with it, demon­strat­ing that game­play trumps all in videogames. I love how the game started in the Mush­room King­dom and then jet­ti­soned into space when Bowser kid­naps Peach for the umpteenth time. Once I was in space I re­alised I had no idea what to ex­pect, and couldn’t wait to jump into the un­known.

Fran­cis Jack­son

PS3 ti­tle Su­per­son­icAcro­batic Rocket-Pow­ered Bat­tle-Cars, from Psy­onix

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