Do we take the simple function of saving for granted?
The other day I was replaying a childhood classic, Sonic 2. Ah, Sonic, you old devil, how time hasn’t aged you a day. The gameplay is still as fast and as enjoyable as ever, the tunes still set my toes ‘a tapping, and although this is a game that’s over 16 years old, it still looks reasonably good. Even after all these years, it still knows how to tickle those gaming happy-sacks.
I was up to level 8 (Metropolis), but by this point all the emerald collecting and baddie smashing had taken its affect, and I was starting to grow drowsy. So, I do what I normally do at quarter past four in the afternoon, and prepare to save-up and get ready for bed. But at that moment, I remembered something truly shocking. In Sonic 2, you can’t save your game! All those hours wasted, with no returnable reward or return. I’ve either got to keep playing, or quit and start all over again. So I did what any self respecting games journalist would do, and cried myself to sleep.