Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, and it's also a time that I can't separate myself from the world of video games even if I tried. Growing up in a family of nine siblings meant I was used to being thrown the remote control or the TV remote and asked to occupy myself while both my parents went to work or wanted me to stop annoying them for five minutes.
As a result, I was good at video games from a very early age. Shortly after we moved to a random country house in mid-Wales in 2002, I was handed a box of PS1s and loads of games that my mother had clearly stolen from my father, whom she had dumped weeks before. I didn't understand the complexities of adult relationships, but one thing I could think about was the joy of Crash Bandicoot and the melodrama of Final Fantasy 7, two classic games I played at such an early age that influenced my taste for years. My dad didn't pay child support, but he got me into Japanese RPGs.
Video games are for life, not just for Christmas
This led me to one of the first Christmas mornings spent in this ramshackle bungalow, which coincidentally coincided with the first years of the PlayStation 2, Xbox and Nintendo GameCube generation. With four brothers the same age, it only made sense that we each had one console, because there was no way we were going to share.
But game consoles are very expensive and so are the games you play on them, but not when your parents are sneaky creeps who are willing to buy your PS2 from your older brother's weed dealer with used copies of Final Fantasy 10 and Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 4. I was a kid and didn't know any better, so when the legendary morning came and we had a few different consoles under the tree, it was Christmas miracle.
Gaming nostalgia and Christmas mornings are kindred spirits
For the next few days, we bounced between different bedrooms, jumping between the many new consoles and games like it was a video game buffet. The visual effects of Star Fox Adventures were out of this world, and Halo: Combat Evolved introduced us to a new genre that we had never had the privilege of experiencing before. Everywhere I looked, there was an era-defining game that introduced me to new characters, worlds, stories, and mechanics that would have an impact on my personal and professional life that at the time could not be quantified. Such moments never happen, and only after they suddenly crystallize, their significance.
Nowadays, I know what games and genres I like and have the disposable income to go out there and pick something up. But growing up, my parents had a basic idea that we loved video games and that we needed to fill that void. I could have made suggestions, but the fact that I was given SpongeBob SquarePants: Battle for Bikini Bottom and Ico on the same day was a killer combination that would have lifelong consequences. It's hard not to feel nostalgic for moments like this as Christmas approaches, and how the unexpected decisions my parents made while laying out the presents under the tree would change me forever.
I had a similar experience when the PS3 came out, another console bought from a family friend who may have been dealing illegal drugs, but it didn't matter when it worked and my family opted for a cavalcade of bangers , which included Fallout 3, Dead Space, and Uncharted: Drake's Fortune. By this time, I was more locked into the gaming world and knew what games I wanted, but even then there were a few surprises I couldn't have foreseen, and like many Christmas mornings before, it meant the world.
As Wednesday moves into a new digital age and blockbuster games become less frequent, it seems that this period of gaming magic is lost to time. It just makes looking back all the more precious, and why I'll always thank this time of year for my love of gaming.
