Too cool to Cool Board?

The fiancée and I hit up her PS1 games collection this past weekend, enjoying some time with Wheel of Fortune and Cool Boarders 4. I’m not ready to talk about the emotional roller-coaster that is Vanna White plus categories called IN THE KITCHEN…so let’s have a laugh at Cool Boarders 4.

This is a snowboarding game sequel to a snowboarding game sequel to a snowboarding game sequel to the original that started it all back in 1996. In this one, you are trying to solve the mystery of the Origami Killer snowboard. You can go downhill or back and forth in a half-pipe. Or, if you’re feeling very skilled, attempt to grab some big air (and tricks) and land safely at the bottom. We even dabbled in split-screen action. Warning: don’t ever play Cool Boarders via split-screen.

Graphically, it’s seen better days, but the game is a barrel of laughs. It’s not funny like the Terry Pratchett book I’m reading currently is (Making Money), but you’ll still find yourself chuckling, maybe even to the point of near-tears. Tara and I first took turns doing trick runs, but I kept falling head first into broken tree limbs, and she loved punching the sky repeatedly. The more we did our respective actions, the funnier they got.

Also, you can create a character, and so I decked my dude out in all purple attire, gave him so much girth his ass stuck out, and named him Killer P, but alas, it was not meant to be and the disc froze. All my hard work was lost to Father Time. Or the snow gods. Whoever it is you worship in this Cool Boarding world.

So yeah, fun for thirty minutes. I’m sure we got more out of it than those that really care about snowboarding games and landing 180 indie flips…

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: The Granstream Saga

If anything, many gamers will know of The Granstream Saga for one glaring quirk: all its in-game characters are faceless. They have no faces. Something ate them. Instead, there’s just this round thing of flesh on top of their necks with some colored hair to sort of the young and the old, the male and the female, the smart and the dumb. Still, despite this oddity, the game featured animated cutscenes of the anime kind, a talking bird companion, and great sword-swinging action (for its time). Oh, and it is also purported to be the very first full 3D RPG for the PlayStation. Cool, cool.

The plot is pretty typical “save the world” stuff. Except, this time around, you have to save multiple worlds. See, once upon a time in this alt Earth, the entire planet was covered entirely in water. Then, thanks to magic and aftereffects from the war between the Allied Spirit Army and the Imperial Wizardry, numerous continents lifted up from the water and out into the air to float fine for years and years until you loaded up the game disc. Now they are slowly sinking back down. Way to go, gamer.

This is where Eon comes into play. He’s the hero of The Granstream Saga, a boy not so ready for his coming-of-age tale, but he’ll meet a varied bunch of folks along his travels who will help him save his floating homeland, as well as all the others. After all, faceless friends are always generous. You’ll spend a good portion of the game staring at his bright red hair.

Gameplay is very standard RPG fare, with exploration of towns and dungeons just about equal to each other. While roaming around a cave, you’ll find enemies and duke it out in real time. Eon carries a sword and a shield, and you’ll take Zelda-like swipes at the enemy, engaging it fully. All in all, kind of bland now…but the system worked great in 1998, and things got much better with upgraded equipment and the ability to cast magic. You eventually learned strategies, too, like side-stepping behind an enemy for a stronger attack.

The Granstream Saga was not the first RPG I played on the PlayStation, but it has strangely had a lasting effect on me. Images of faceless villagers—as well as that uncomfortable shower scene—flash in my mind from time to time. And the details about the game’s ending have always been fuzzy, something to do with that bird companion. And yes, I could easily just watch an entire playthrough on YouTube, but that would totally ruin my gaming nostalgia. Instead, I’ll just miss the heck out of my copy and yearn for the return of the faceless.

NOTE: I could not find any great screenshots of these faceless game models so I whipped up some examples below so you can get a feel for things. Enjoy!

—

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

Lara Croft VS. T-Rex, Round 1

There’s a short, but sweet article over at The First Hour about some great cinematic moments in videogaming history. And wow, I’ve actually played a few of the games mentioned. That’s just crazy talk.

Speaking of talk and crazy, I’d like to write a little bit about one cinematic gaming moment from my history. The time? 1996. The game? Tomb Raider. It was an epoch when the Internet did not spoil the big and small and all moments of a game, and so I knew very little about Lara Croft and her plight, just that the Indiana Jones in me had to have it.

I was exploring some caves when I noticed a cluster of rocks that looked most definitely…climbable. Took a bit to get Lara into position, but we made it over the rocks to discover a skeleton, as well as a lush area that was the polar opposite to the snowy caves I’d just been running and hopping through. Odd, I thought. Then some Velociraptors attacked me. Even odder. What’s going on here? It’s like an interactive episode of The Twilight Zone (obviously at this point I had no idea how much odder Tomb Raider would get; hello, winged and mutated Natla).

But yeah…Lara starts snooping around, her footsteps loud as all gets in the eerie silence surrounding her. And then it happens: the violin-laden music, the roar, the charge of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, the tiny section in your brain passing out. The large-and-in-charge dino comes at you like a train, and may your side-jumping skills be honed because it takes a lot of bullets and swift manuevering to bring down the “tyrant lizard,” and then when you do you’re left standing over it, completely unsure of your surroundings, completely unnerved for whatever is next.

It’s totally unexpected, a gaming experience soon going the way of the dinosaurs, alas.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Jumping Flash!

Ah, Jumping Flash! No, I’m not exclaiming. The ! is just part of the game’s name, as well as the feeling I get when I realize that I traded this quirky gem during my transition from Playstation to Playstation 2. Why? Because, as far as I can tell, there’s never been anything quite like it since.

Releasing in 1995 for the Playstation, Jumping Flash! was a 3D platformer played from a first-person perspective. You are a robotic bunny named Robbit that is out to stop an insane astrophysicist named Baron Aloha from turning a bunch of worlds into private resorts. Yup, that’s the plot. I said it was quirky. To stop this low-life, Robbit must find the Jet Pods that propel each world and reunite the Crater Planet. Basically, you will jump, shoot things, jump, jump, shoot things, jump, and jump some more. There’s a lot of jumping to do, outpacing the shooting by several miles. Good thing this wasn’t called Step Aerobics Flash!

Robbit can jump up to three times: once off the ground, then in mid-air, and then a third time in mid-air, allowing him to reach crazy heights. What’s neat about this is that, as Robbit jumps, the camera tilts down to his feet so you see the ground (if it is still visible) below you rather than just staring at sky horizontally. This was pretty impressive the first time you did it, and gave the player an amazing sense of freedom.

Level designs varied, with the funnest being the one set in an amusement park with a roller-coaster as your launching point. In every world, Robbit could pick up a bunch of power-ups like rockets and cherry bombs, as well as hourglasses to extend the time. Yes, levels were timed, which made jumping around more exciting and intense, especially when the clock was ticking down and you were flying high.

Graphically, it is what it is. Polygon count is low, the sky is a static wash that never changes, and the enemies were cutesy animals like penguins and bomb-tossing beetles. It’s an early PS1 game, and it shows. Thankfully, the gameplay more than makes up for things.

Alas, I can’t recall too much about Jumping Flash! other than the main hub levels. I do know that at the end of each world, there would be a boss fight, but shake me silly because I don’t remember doing any of them. I suspect you had to shoot them somewhere special (keep it clean, people) and that jumping was involved.

It seems there was a direct sequel, Jumping Flash! 2, as well as some games loosely-based on the gameplay concept. It’s a shame that the series itself is so underrated and did not find a stronger fanbase. Given today’s consoles and technology, something truly great could be achieved here if developers were interested. Take this, add some Mirror’s Edge, a pinch of love, and go to town.

—

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Trap Gunner

I can’t even recall why this game is no longer in my collection. I must have, at some point during my climb from Playstation 1 to Playstation 2, traded it in along with a heap of others to help get some extra gaming funds. The young fool I was…the young, dumb, blind-as-a-barrel fool.

Of Trap Gunner, what I remember the most is that it was a hoot to play. Not the storyline, not the characters, not the graphics–just that it was a party every time. The premise revolved around your character and another character running around a battlefield, and as you went you planted all different types of traps to snare them in and drain their life-bar. You could use bombs, pitfalls, gas, mines, and force panels. Some worked well on their own, others had to be used in conjunction with other traps to really seal the deal.

Here’s a great example of something I’d do every round in Trap Gunner, no matter the stage:
1. Plant a force panel
2. Directly across from the force panel plant a pitfall
3. Next to the pitfall plant a switch detonator
4. Lure my opponent over to the force panel
5. Enjoy the domino effect

The best part is that traps you plant can’t be seen by your opponent (and vice versa), making running around a bit nerve-wrecking. You might not want to go up those stairs…so you can drop into a sneak mode to sniff out enemy traps.

There was a single player mode, as well as a two player split-screen if I recall correctly. The story mode did little, but open up new levels and secret characters. All in all, Trap Gunner was a fun mix of action and strategy, and is most certainly a game I miss from time to time.

Check out the anime-like intro as well:

—

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.