16-Bit Week: The Fight of My Life

It’s 1992, the sound of cheers and jeers fill the air in the back of the smoky, dimly-lit room. As the room falls silent, only the sounds of gasps and heels grinding the floor can be heard over the announcer’s voice, “Ryu wins!”

The announcer broadcasts the next two fighters to the crowd and the champion is carried via plane to meet his next challenger. Most of the crowd sized-up the fighters, based on their age and size, this was a mistake. This fight wasn’t going to be won by the strongest or the biggest; instead this battle will be won by wit, muscle memory and patience.

This wasn’t my first cash fight, but it was my biggest; I had played this challenger right into my hands. There was $22 on the line for this single match; more than enough to finance the entire weekend. By defeating this single sailor I could ensure an all expense paid weekend of movies, lunches and swimming. The only thing left was to find out if his M. Bison was stronger than my Guile.

I first played Street Fighter in 1989 while living on Marine Corps Air Station Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii. I played a few rounds of the original game in the local bowling alley and was left unimpressed with little idea on what affect this franchise would have on my life.

When my father was transferred back to the states as an instructor, I discovered my first Street Fighter 2: Championship Edition machine in the base’s popular trainee hangout. This box of silicon was the beginning of what would become a life-long obsession with fighting games.

Prior to SF2:CE, my experience with fighting games had been the limited to Kung-Fu on the Nintendo and the aforementioned original Street Fighter. Both these games had peeked my interest, but left me wanting more. This longing was realized when I played SF2:CE for the first time.

One of the contributing factors of my love for SF2:CE was the that the machine was installed in the arcade a few weeks after I arrived back in the states. Because the game was brand new, I was on level playing ground with the barely legal, soon-to-be warriors that were just looking to blow off a little steam between classes, physical training and inspections.

The game was simple enough. Two guys would step up to the controls and see who could better the other in battle; then the next person would step up, insert their quarter and face the current champ. The popularity of the game soon spread across the base and the line began to grow too large for people to determine who had arrived first and who was up next based on sight alone; so the practice of “ups” was implemented.

“Ups” was a simple enough concept. As a player walked up to the cabinet, they would place a quarter in line on the plastic ridge overlay left between the controls and the glass screen. Soon the glass ledge was lined with a dozen quarters, representing the gathering warriors behind the players.

It wasn’t long after the quarters started piling up that the first rage based wager occurred. Hoping to distract the opponent and add a little pressure, wagers were soon added to the games. Typically these wagers were just a quarter, but on the rare occasion they could climb up to a few bucks.

This new phenomenon of fighting game wagering slowly turned into a lucrative pastime for me and a few of my friends. While we were too young to work at McDonald’s or the bowling alley, there was a good bit of money to be made spending hours in the arcade each day after school and all weekend.

On a good week we could each earn $20 or $30; enough to finance a weekend full of fun without needing to beg for money from our parents, which gave us an added since of independence. This happy byproduct of playing SF2:CE only fueled my love and dedication to the game.

I would spend hours after school and on the weekend at the base arcade with my friends playing SF2:CE. Most of the time we were just playing for bragging rights between each other or the sailors that frequented the arcade as well. Street fighter served as a common ground for a lot of us and created a small circle of friends.

I think the real hook with fighting games is it is a 1-on-1 experience; while many games have multiplayer, few do it without the computer taking an active role in the action. Games with multiplayer elements similar to Space Invaders pit players against the computer to see who can get the most points. Even today’s popular first person shooters pit dozens of players against each other; in single player deathmatch the player’s overall performance is affected by everyone in the game.

Fighting games completely remove the computer from the experience and place people in a heads-up, mental battle similar to poker or chess.

Still to this day, the pinnacle of my battles was this $22 match, not due to the money; but because it sealed the deal on my life-long love of fighting games.

Round one started off just as I had hoped, he jumped right into my flash kick and the fight was on.  I quickly reduced him to less than 50% of his life with a combination of sonic booms and a mid-air backbreaker. I went on to win the match by a good margin.

Shortly into round two I knew I was in trouble. He seemed to have picked up my pattern from the first round and had quickly adapted his game play. Before I knew it I had barely a quarter of a bar of health left. With a swift head stomp, the round has over and we were tied one-one.

I could feel the pressure building as round three started. The round was a back and forth battle, each move was meet with a counter as we slowly wore each other down. Anticipation grew as our health bars dipped below the 30% mark. Following short burst of sonic booms and scissor kicks, we both on the brink of defeat. The next successful hit would decide the winner. He went for another scissor kick and attempted to counter with a sonic boom, but my nerves got the better me and I screwed up the timing. Instead of a great counter attack I ended up running straight into his attack.

I instantly began to fall from my high as the announcer declared, “M. Bison wins!” I also knew at that moment I would forever be addicted to fighting games. I don’t care if it is money, prizes or just bragging rights; the adrenaline rush offered by fighting games when you place everything on the line is unmatchable.