G-pinions

Every fan boy has their secrets. Though I won't go into detail about what Nick does in private with his Dave Mathews CDs or Tim with his tiny figures of the Green Hornet, I will tell you about a horrible secret of my own. Though I have been playing Zelda games for closing in on 17 years, I have, until only a few days ago, only completed two of those games. Though I consider Link to the Past one of the finest games ever crafted and Ocarina of Time a benchmark for all other 3D adventures to strive for, they remained alone in my bureau of completed Zelda games.

I had plenty of excuses I clutched like a protective blanket for years; reasons why I couldn't quite defeat Gannon. I do not play portable games very often so the three Gameboy Adventure - Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Ages and Link's Awakening - were never so much as looked at by my Nintendo adoring eyes. Wind Waker, though fantastic throughout most of the journey, was home to a form of water transportation only a masochist's mother could love. Majora's Mask, with its 3 day and then repeat lifespan, was far too repetitive for my tastes.

This leaves me with only the NES adventures to account for. Despite my unholy love of Link's first adventure, my parents never actually bought Zelda 2: The Adventure of Link for me. In hindsight, this is really shocking. My parents were never at a loss for supplying me the latest time waster for my or Jesus' birthday. It only seems logical that, when a sequel to a game I obsessed over was released, they would have surprised me with it with only the slightest of hesitations. Thankfully, my fragile youth was spared from this horrible travesty. Who knows if I would still love games to this day if Zelda II was a reoccurring image from my youth.

The last game I will talk about, and the first Zelda I ever played, was also the first Zelda ever released. Though I would rank it only behind my beloved Metroid in my list of all time favorite 1-player NES games (as ranked by 8 year old Tom, and not 23 year old Tom. Clearly, Metroid is not that high now), I somehow never completed it. My brother and I would trek through Hyrule day after day - slowly gathering the tools necessary to conquer evil. But, upon finally reaching Gannon's door, we were never quite able to break it down. Rather from lack of skill of will I do not know, but I do know that I went almost 17 years before I was finally able to lay claim to defeating Hyrule's most evil citizen.

Last Saturday night, my friend Andy and I set off down a quest I knew quite well. Knowing that I had never actually won this game, Andy laid forth the rules that, before the book closed on another day in my life, we would finally finish this game. So how does this game stack up after 17 years of imitators doing their thing? After 17 years of Nintendo tinkering and possibly even perfecting the formula they created? How does it feel to take 17 years to finish a game - a record that might never be broken?

First, I must say I was actually shocked how good this game still is. If I were living in a world where The Legend of Zelda was released in late 2004 instead of the middle of 1987, I would rate the game among the very best released this year. Though it's graphics clearly show its age, the music is as hummable as ever, the enemies are still as difficult as ever, and the labyrinths are still as cleverly constructed. The game is a masterpiece because, despite more than 17 years of dust covering its fragile surface, it still provides a more innovative, and most importantly fun, experience than any of the flashy 3D games available today. Better than Link to the Past. Better than Ocarina. Better than just about any game I have ever played. To experience The Legend of Zelda for the first time, again, like I did last Saturday, is like receiving your virginity all over again. Or being able to create pumpkin pies out of thin air. This may very well be the pinnacle of video games.

One thing that really surprised me is how much the Zelda series has changed through the years. While newer titles stress exploration and puzzles, the first Zelda was all about the action. While each labyrinth and new section of the overworld offered new enemies and strategies, puzzle solving was very rudimentary. For the most part, puzzles were relegated to finding the appropriate wall to bomb or bush to burn. There are no puzzles which require you to lower water. There is nothing as complicated as knowing to shoot your wooden arrow into the sun to turn it into a fire arrow. While this may seem like the first Zelda is a simplified version of its younger brothers, I see it much differently. The first Zelda is just an extremely focused game that tried to push the player along instead of forcing momentum to stop while they tried to figure out what to do next. The game offers enough clues to make sure there is always action taking place and the player is never bored. In this age of games artificially extending a games life by adding pointless backtracking missions and impossible puzzles, it was nice to see a game that lasted a mere 3 hours, but made more of those hours than any new game could even hope to achieve.

There are a few amusing things I encountered on my quest. First are the sometimes confusing translations. When you happen upon an underground free coin exchange, the beast within merely says "It's a secret to everyone." Sure, this is a well known quote, but what does it mean exactly? If it's a secret to everyone, does that mean everyone knows about the secret? If they do, why wouldn't they have stolen the money beforehand? Furthermore, if it is a secret to everyone, wouldn't it be a secret to no one?

Even more baffling is the phrase "Master using it and you can have this." This is spoken to you before receiving the White and Master swords. For most of my life, I assumed the "Master" referred to the noun. As in, the man known only as "Master" is using this sword. Obviously, this confused me so. If the master is using it, how can I have it? Where is he? Who are you? It wasn't until I explained this to Andy, and he told me Master is a verb, that everything became clear. Though 95% of the blame lies with me, that other 5% goes with the translators. Clearly, this game has plenty of rough dialog, so it was only natural to assume this sentence was of the nonsensical variety as well.

Another odd thing was the big eared creatures. I don't know their names so I'll give you a rough description - they look kind of like cats, minus the cumbersome body and appendages. They clearly have whiskers, they are yellow, and they bounce. They are located in the 5th Labyrinth, and some Labyrinths later in the game. In the instruction manual it says they "Don't like loud noises" or something to that extent. But, for some reason, blowing a whistle does no damage. If I could change one thing about this game, it would be making those stupid bastards die after one or two toots. That is all.

As I'm more than 1200 words into this column, I think I'll just end it now. If you haven't played through the first Zelda before, or it has been more than a year, please try it again. It really is one of the best games I have ever played.