4. Intelligent Television

It was all my uncle Mike's fault. Far from the crushing mundanity of business computing – as advocated by my immediate family – was a secret world of play that even adults were party to. That I only got to see a glimpse of this world once or maybe twice a year made it all the more magical. I know I only trailed along with my parents each time 'cos it was cheaper and easier than hiring a baby-sitter... but truth be known, I'd have been gutted to have missed out on each trip.

My uncle was the glamorous playboy type. I think he worked in advertising. He had the sexy sporty cars, the expensive hi-fi and he seemed to change his girlfriend every year. But, more than the cars and probably more than the women, his great passion was games – loads of them stacked up in the spare room and the loft. A penthouse toyshop. From Mousetrap to Risk, he must've played 'em all. My interest in these was limited to discovering new ways to demolish the plastic Costa del Sol in Hotel, or the carnage caused by a matchbox car on the field of runners from Totopoly. All that was to change when he brought out a sleek new toy from under the telly, resplendent in wood-grain and a hint of gold.

Admit it – Ebay is your new God.

I'd seen videogames before. One christmas we visited a distant uncle who lived in what appeared to be a small mansion, complete with a different set of relatives in every room. In the corner of the vast hall/reception room was a TV. The relatives consigned to this room huddled around it, frantically twiddling paddle controllers to the tune of two-tone beeps. By New Year, one of the paddles was jumpy and the aerial lead had to be taped to the side of the TV to keep a stable picture... but the novelty wasn't wearing off.

This time it was different. It was no longer pong-football but proper players – with legs and everything. I always felt that football benefitted from players actually possessing feet. The pitch scrolled a bit and had almost enough perspective for that just-like-watching-telly feeling. The fact that it was called NASL Soccer threw us a bit, as we presumed that was some variation on Blow Football, using only the nose.

Uncle Mike then proceeded to bring out game after game from an antique sideboard. Baseball, tennis, basketball, horse racing, NFL football (that nobody had a clue how to play even after reading the manual). Every sport I could imagine was there, all beautifully drawn to look nothing like bat and ball blobs. A revelation. Best of all was Auto Racing – a prototype Micro-Machines. Sliding the cars round the corners and then steering erratically with the wobbly disc controller… Barging the other car off the track and into a tree… Getting excruciating cramp from the tricksy side buttons used to brake and accelerate… I loved the way that a couple of flimsy controller overlays transformed each game into a unique toy. Almost made up for how shite the controller really was.

Bastard trap always dragged down the edge of the spine thing, for us…

Every time we visited, the pile of games grew higher and the gaming twitch grew stronger. I wasn't alone. This stuff wasn't just for kids. The people eagerly clutching the controllers and staring rapt at the screen were grown adults, with wives and children. This was no more unacceptable than a quick game of Cluedo or Bridge. The controllers were passed around with a reverence more commonly reserved for an expensive cigar box.

I'm reminded of this during Burnout 2 multiplayer Crash Mode sessions. Passing round the Wavebird, a few friends politely taking turns to wreak highway havoc and splatter their initials across the high-score tables. Friends with wives and children (who, in some cases, join in themselves). Playing games without a hint of embarrassment.

A FOOT and a BALL. Not a SOCK and an ER.

My Uncle Mike gave up his childish pursuits when marriage and fatherhood entered his life. I guess he no longer had time for a trivial affair like the Astrosmash high-score table. A couple of years later, he sold his Intellivision - although he did keep his Auto Racing cartridge to give to me. Perhaps he knew he was passing on the videogaming torch. The same light that burns brightly in our Gamecubes, Xboxes and Playstations, indeed it burns brighter than ever.

Intellivision Shrine Thing
And another!

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