You forgot to get a card, didn't you?
Ah, Mother's Day. The day where Americans allow themselves to be told by corporations that they're supposed to spend between $45 and $150 on the woman that raised them (and 1/4 of that on their grandmothers, naturally). It's a festive time, and we've opted to appease the evil demigods that rule over American holidays by giving our mothers the gift... of fame.
Today, we're celebrating not the best games, not the worst games, but the games that remind us of our mothers. Did our mothers buy us our favorite game? Play it with us? Take it away when we were being shitty little kids? Find out here, and share your own stories.
Bomberman reminds Henry Gilbert of his mother
After my five year old self saw a neighbor playing Super Mario Bros. on their TV, I quickly began begging my parents for an NES. But I doubt I wouldve got one if my mom didnt get almost as much enjoyment out of the system as I did. She beat Super Mario long before me and played Dr. Mario for about a month straight, but her greatest addiction was the original Bomberman.
Her obsession to the explosive puzzler was so great that my mom rented it enough times to have probably bought it twice over. She stayed up late playing it (when else would a working mom find the time?) and without the manual for guidance, she just made up cute names for all the enemies that she said with scorn every time she lost. After she finally beat it, I dont think any game caught her like that again. By the 16-bit era games had become too complicated for her tastes--and that's true for even the subsequent Bomberman games--so Ill always associate her with that 8-bit original.
Klotski reminds Sophia Tong of her mother
My mom would never consider herself a gamer, not even a casual one. But the amount of time she spent on certain puzzle games can be considered pretty hardcore. She's definitely logged more hours in Tetris, Sudoku, Klotski, and Solitaire than I have most games. She's always been extremely good at solving puzzles, Rubik's cubes, and riddles, so I always think of her when I see any variation of these popular puzzle games. Too bad I can't get her to play Professor Layton (granted, I havent tried but the XL DS/3DS screens are likely still too small for her to read).
There was one version of Klotski on Windows back in the '90s that was super complicated and had dozens, if not hundreds of levels, but she managed to beat it. One puzzle a day, every day after dinner. Thats when she would stop; she wouldnt solve more than one. Come to think of it, I dont' think she's ever played Bejeweled, but Im sure shed like it. I was thinking about getting her an iPad for Mother's Day and slipping Candy Crush on there. That may just ruin her.
Legend of Legaia reminds Ryan Taljonick of his mother
When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me that for every hour I spent playing video games, I'd have to spend an hour playing outside. "But mom, what am I going to do out there?!" I'd protest, to which she'd reply: "Use your imagination." (My response was always that imagination was for Barney lovers.)
For as much as I resented that she made me get some fresh air, I always loved it when she'd surprise me with a random game purchase--and as a kid who was way into JRPGs, Legend of Legaia was a wonderful present from a wonderful lady (who knew nothing about games). Of course, this was but one of many games she bought for me over the years, but it was special in its relevance to my tastes--and I still have it, jewel case and all.
Tetris reminds Hollander Cooper of his mother
My mom worked in a hospital during the 1980s, and was generally ahead of the curve when it came to computer stuff because, well, that's what happened when you worked in a hospital during the 1980s. Recently, she told me a story about when everyone she knew was crippled by a Russian game called Tetris. Someone apparently gave her a floppy disk with the game on it and she played it, finding herself totally addicted to the block-dropping mayhem.
Because of that, I've found myself thinking of her whenever I play the game--not because we shared some sort of bonding experience over Tetris or anything, but because she essentially dropped some major nerd hipster cred on me by saying that she played it before I was born.
Mortal Kombat reminds Lorenzo Veloria of his mother
Funnily enough, Mortal Kombat is the game that most reminds me of my mom. Like any loving mom, Mrs. Veloria cared deeply about what media was seen by her childrens eyes and absorbed into their brains. So, when I think back to my days of playing Mortal Kombat at the age of seven, ripping spines out of torsos, and upper-cutting my victims into a spikey pit, my moms reaction to that gruesome game sticks in my mind.
She watched me perform a fatality and said, What are you playing?, paused , then just walked away. To this day, Im still not sure if she approved or disapproved of where my gaming hobbies had taken me, but, hey, I turned out OK, right?
The Nintendo 64 reminds Greg Henninger of his mother
I grew up with three sisters, sisters that actually enjoyed playing video games as much as I did. So when the N64 launched, my sisters and I were head-over-heels about the idea of getting one. My parents first response was a big NO. Their main reason was because we would all fight over who gets to play it and what games we will want. We decided not to take no for an answer.
My sisters and I got together, deciding that we needed to put our sibling rivalry aside for the greater good. We drafted up a contract that we would present to our mother as a sign that we were mature enough to handle ourselves. We all voted on what games we wanted, when we would play them, and even had contingency plans for when we had friends over and what the rules would be. We took our typo-laden contract to mom and after she finished reading it, close to tears (from love or from laughing at how ridiculous we were, the world will never know) she drove us right down to the store and purchased the beautiful new system.
Grand Theft Auto 2 reminds Lucas Sullivan of his grandmother
Curse Coop--he stole my pick of Tetris (in which my mom could trounce Coop's AND Sophia's respective mothers with her eyes closed). So instead, I'll touch on Grand Theft Auto 2, which against my better judgment, I played while my grandma was in the room. See, at the time, we only had one PC--and my Grandma was chomping at the bit to get some quality Spider Solitaire action going. Unfortunately for her, me and my cousin were gaming like champions--me on the PS2 with Jak and Daxter: The Precursor Legacy, him on the PC running over miniature citizens in GTA 2.
My Grandma was a saint, but on this particular day, her patience was wearing thin; she wanted to get on that computer bad. So she stood over my cousin's shoulder, watching agitatedly while he hijacked vehicles, barreled over pedestrians, and used a flamethrower to cook incoming police officers like hot dogs. It was almost as inappropriate as the time we watched The Chappelle Show--the uncensored DVD version, mind you--while she was in the room.
The disgusting monster in DmC reminds us... oh...
Oops, we messed up. This doesn't remind us of our mom, it reminds us of your mom.
Also, call your mother
Do you have a fond memory of your mother playing a game? Or of smashing your games and telling you to stop wasting your time with those damn things because you're never going to find a person to love you if you hide in a virtual world instead of just saying hi to that nice girl down the street she's Jewish and her dad is a doctor? Let us know in the comments below!