That's right. High Tea with his gloves on.

I was extremely skeptical on a whole list of counts, but it had been a while since I had picked up a shiny new video game… so I dropped $35 on a used copy of Super Street Fighter 4. That’s only one dollar per fighter, people!

It’s pretty standard fare, at my level of play: which is to say able but not skilled in any way. I can throw hadokens ’til my thumbs are raw, but damned if I can guard impact (parry?) or counter a throw. There’s a feature in the game which brings me back to the ol’ days, ol’ days which may have also been good. Days spent in the cheese-product-smelling recesses of the 7-11 at Bathurst & St. Clair, popping quarters into Killer Instinct. Or more recently, days spent skipping first-year Calculus and playing X-Men vs. Street Fighter with Patrick Sorfleet. When you fire up the console version of the game for a standard, fairly boring bout through “arcade mode” (read: fight a bunch of computer-controlled characters, fight the boss, win), you can set it up to accept requests from other players online.

Given my recent aversion to competitive multiplayer gaming, my heart was in my throat when the game first found “a new challenger”. My opponent chose random so I felt it only fitting that I do the same. Sadly, he drew Ryu and I ended up with some fatty I’d never seen before; you can guess how well that went. I proceeded to lose a few more matches, though this time playing characters I was at least passing familiar with. I resigned at 0 and lots, but boy was it fun. It brought back all those memories of arcades past. Of sliding your quarter on the corner of the screen to declare your intent to play next, to try and knock the guy who’s been dominating the machine off for a while. Of mercy rounds and hitting start right as someone’s about to be defeated by the CPU. Good ol’ days.