What was your first ever videogame?
Pong is the first video game I remember playing at home. Two paddles, a bouncing ball, and the firm belief that if I concentrated hard enough, I could keep that little square from getting past me.
We did not need a complicated storyline. The ball was coming toward us. That was the storyline.
There was something wonderfully absorbing about it. Looking at games now, with their enormous worlds and characters who practically have pores, it’s funny to remember how much entertainment we found in a few moving shapes. At the time, being able to control something on the television was part of the magic.
Then came Minesweeper on my school’s computer, where a harmless-looking grid could become a lesson in consequences with one unfortunate click.
Pong asked whether I could react quickly. Minesweeper asked whether I had thought things through. Apparently, my early gaming experience was determined to assess the full range of my shortcomings.
I remember the particular satisfaction of a section of squares opening up, followed by the immediate suspicion that the next one was going to ruin everything. A few tiny numbers could make a person feel very clever—and then very humbled.
Neither game needed much to hold my attention. There was always another round to play, another square to consider, another opportunity to insist that this time I knew what I was doing.
I have since brought that same optimism to many areas of my life.
With varying results. And considerably more glitter.