20th Century Gamer

Pong has been the subject for many articles, chapters, books, websites, and documentaries. The facts, anecdotes, and myths have been hashed and rehashed. Pong has an undeniable place in video game history, especially since it is this one game’s success in the arcade and home markets that established the industry. That said, I have wondered how much modern coverage of Pong is about the interesting background story rather than love of the game itself.

Ralph Baer was a manager and engineer at Saunders, a military defense contractor. In 1967, Baer and his team started developing the first video game system. Once Baer’s “Brown Box” prototype was finished, his defense contractor employer had no use for it. It was eventually licensed to Magnavox for production in 1971, and after a redesign it became the Odyssey.

Before public release in 1972, Magnavox demonstrated the Odyssey at special events and trade shows. Nolan Bushnell, the president and co-founder of Atari, attended one of those showings and played the Odyssey version of Table Tennis. Later that year Bushnell assigned the task of developing a electronic version of ping-pong to Al Alcorn, a newly-hired Atari engineer.

Alcorn found the basic task of bouncing the ball between two paddles to be boring, so he added reactive english and acceleration to the ball movement. A prototype was installed at Andy Capp’s Tavern, one of the businesses on Atari’s pinball route. Customers loved the game and Pong went on to establish Atari as an innovator in the coin-operated amusement industry.

Pong’s instructions summarize the game best: “Avoid missing ball for high score.” Players bounced a ball back and forth across the screen. Knobs controlled their paddles vertically. Missing the ball increased the opponents score. Pong was conceptually exciting because it was the first time the average person could actively control what was on a television screen.

Pong got Magnavox’s attention, and in late 1972 they sued Atari. In 1975, Sears began selling Atari’s home version of Pong. It wasn’t until 1976 that Atari and Magnavox reached a settlement. Atari paid Magnavox a one-time licensing fee between $100,000-$700,000 (the figure varies between different sources) with rights to any new Atari consumer products released over the next year. The result of the lawsuit was very favorable for Atari considering they had been making money off Magnavox’s intellectual property for over three years.

To avoid paying Magnavox anything more, Atari waited a year before announcing the Atari 2600. One of the first 2600 cartridges was Video Olympics (named Pong Sports when purchased from Sears), a collection of 50 Pong variations. The 2600 version was significantly better than its predecessors, but by 1977 the fad had passed and the backlash started. Ironically, Atari initially had a difficult time selling their new home console because of the public’s association of Atari with Pong.

In the mid-70s, Pong was a cool word that people liked to throw around to show how they were current with modern culture and technology. While I didn’t have the Pong console or one of the clones at home, many of my friends did. Not once did we play it for more than 5 minutes before losing interest. The conceptual novelty of controlling a video image was captivating, but the initial thrill faded fast. Likewise, I don’t recall anyone actually playing the Pong machine at the arcade. The Atari 2600 Video Olympics was one of the cartridges that rapidly gathered dust, and as early as 1978 I saw it used to level the leg of a table.

Some have speculated that it is because Pong is so boring that everyone discusses anything but the game itself. My theory is that a large part of the nostalgia for Pong is what it symbolizes to modern culture: a simpler time in which simple games could be enjoyed and the discovery of new technology was within itself part of the fun.

For more on the subject, the Pong Museum is dedicated to Pong arcade machines and home consoles.

Circuit City started inventory liquidation on January 17, 2009. This was pretty big news, since Circuit City was the second largest electronics retailer in the US. 34,000 employees will lose their jobs and 537 large retail spaces will be empty when the stores close for good on March 31, 2009. The economic and real estate impact will be felt for some time. I join many others in offering condolences to the employees.

Over the last 25 years I have bought a few things from Circuit City, but I rarely found the retail experience to be pleasant or the inventory to include what I was looking for. My fondest purchases were in the late 80s when they were the only store locally that carried Onkyo stereo components. What should have been happy events acquiring something that I had saved for over several months were tainted by pushy salespeople who insisted I didn’t want what I wanted because a crappy, cheaper system was better. None of my visits to their stores since then have been any better, so I doubt there will be any nostalgia for Circuit City in my future.

Because Circuit City has dominated bankruptcy news since they declared Chapter 11 in November 2008, it’s no surprise that the disappearance of smaller companies has gone unnoticed. In December 2008, KB Toys announced it was closing all of their stores by February 2009. Usually located at indoor malls, the chain faded in recent years as the parent mall retail setting lost popularity. KB Toys was once an excellent source for video games for many growing up in the 70s, 80s, and 90s. In contrast to Circuit City, I have plenty of fond memories of KB.

When I was young, the only places for me to get video games were Best Products, Sears, Montgomery Ward, Toys R Us, and KB Toys. No one store carried a full selection, so finding a particular game meant calling all in advance or driving to each. Our family visited KB fairly often because it was located in the same mall as other stores, eliminating the need to visit other retail locations. Even better, KB offered a lot of other cool things for boy geeks like LEGO, models, action figures, and board games. The girls could hang out in the Barbie isle.

Throughout the 80s and into the 90s, the wall behind the sales counter was a video game lover’s paradise. Locked glass cases gloriously displayed cartridges for all of the current popular systems. When the Atari, Intellivision, and Colecovision were replaced by Nintendo and Sega, games from the previous console generation were highly discounted and placed into bins that greeted customers at the door. This policy continued for years, at least up to 2003, with older titles eventually migrating to the front of the store and marked down to unbelievably cheap prices. For two decades KB Toys was a valued source for gamers and collectors looking for deals on “obsolete” merchandise.

My last purchase from KB Toys was in 2003, when I picked up several PlayStation games from a discount bin, new in box, for less than $20. Shortly after that visit KB declared their first bankruptcy, their inventory changed, and there was no longer anything that appealed to us or our younger family members. Gone was the varied selection of video games, current or otherwise. At that point it was obvious that KB couldn’t compete with Toys R Us, Walmart, Target, and online retailers.

Like Circuit City, part of the failure of KB Toys is because it was no longer a required destination when shopping. Unlike Circuit City, it sure is fun to remember the excitement from shopping at KB when I was a kid and it was a competitive and relevant retailer.

Not all of my retail nostalgia is based on positive experiences from my youth. Until it closed in January 2008, CompUSA was my favorite local retailer for nerd purchases. They had better prices and a wider selection of computers and related items than either Circuit City or Best Buy. Most of the time I found what I was looking for at CompUSA, something I couldn’t say for the competition. It’s a little ironic that Circuit City, one of reasons for CompUSA’s failure, is soon to be gone as well.

So many large business closures in such a short period of time is a reflection of the poor economy, but it’s important to remember that this has all happened before. This is all part of a bigger cycle, in which once successful retailers disappear to be replaced with stores that better meet the demands of the time. It is sad to see favorites go, but the future will create new favorites for young and old alike.

Over the last several years, I have had many discussions with friends about the general state of game journalism. Most of us have concluded that the majority of mainstream websites and magazines have lost their objectivity, with coverage that is increasingly biased towards major advertisers. The anecdotal evidence seems to be corroborated by our recollections of the “good old days,” when game reviewers weren’t afraid to publicly berate a lousy game. Another subject we have discussed is the increase of lengthy and overly positive “game previews” that are essentially free advertisements for large game developers.

But are we wrong? Is the warm, fuzzy fog of nostalgia leading us to idealize the past? Did the naiveté of our youth make us more accepting of hype and less aware of impartial journalism?

The best way to resolve the debate is by looking at old game magazines, either physically or online. Retromags is a great source for digital scans of classic game periodicals. The site specializes in 20th century publications, and there is a broad selection of US, UK, and international content. It’s a lot of fun to read about game favorites from days past, and I have also found myself discovering titles that I missed when they were originally released.

Reading through vintage magazines has tempered my disappointment with contemporary game journalism. Much to my surprise, promotional “game previews” plagued even the earliest magazines. Classic publications were not immune from partisanship, occasionally with coverage and reviews that recognizably favored advertisers. Today’s game journalism is generally better written and with significantly improved presentation than magazines that predate 1995.

The lesson I’m taking from this experience is that I should stop being a cranky old man, basing my opinions on memories tainted by the idealism of youth. Perhaps I will remember this the next time I’m telling kids to get off my lawn.