Not to brag, but I'm old enough to remember going to rent video games at my local Blockbuster. If you're like me, and you grew up in the suburbs in the late 90s and early 2000s, you likely did this very thing. You've seen people talking about it online with nostalgic overtones. It's the weekend, you're getting fast food for dinner and renting movies and games. I grew up with a Genesis before graduating to anything else for a bit, so I rented Genesis games, and the one game I recall renting religiously was a game titled "High Seas Havoc".

This is likely a game you have never heard of, unless you're really into gaming, or especially into Genesis games.

It's a game very reminiscent of Sonic the Hedgehog, in the sense that you're a blue anthropomorphic animal who's running fast and doing lots of platforming while killing enemies while collecting little crystal shards, except you're also a pirate. In fact, a lot of people called it an outright knock off of Sonic, and while I want to disagree, it's actually fairly difficult to defend it from those completely valid criticisms. Even then, I rented it often. I can recall specifically, however, renting it on one very particular day. I don't know what it is about certain moments in time that can make you, years later, recall them in explicit clarity, as if you're still living in that moment, but this was one of those days.

Allow me to paint a picture for you.

It was the end of summer. I was, likely, going into 5th grade, and it was blistering hot. The sliding glass door that led to the backyard from our living room was wide open, and fans were going. The sky was a mixture of yellow and orange, and someone was outside grilling something. I remember that my bookbag (yes, I was one of those kids) was already packed, and I was all ready to go the next day. I wasn't looking forward to it, but my parents made sure I was prepared nonetheless. Now I had the rest of this final summer evening to do whatever I wanted, and what I wanted to do was play High Seas Havoc.

This moment, for whatever reason, is burned into my memory, seared into my minds eye like someone ironed it onto the inside of my eyelids. And there's, if you've read my reviews before, the thing that keeps popping up. Gaming cements particular moments from your otherwise dull history as moments worth remembering. It's sort of the same thing music manages to do. You ever hear a song and suddenly realize it was an integral part of a formative moment of your life? Maybe you first heard it during your first time, or maybe it played on a particular birthday, or perhaps it was the last thing you listened to with someone who meant a lot to you. That's what gaming manages to do. It creates these moments, inside these bubbles in time, that cannot be forgotten or erased.

Sure, even though High Seas Havoc is essentially a pseudo Sonic knock-off featuring a somewhat nautical theme, it can be traced back to a moment of importance just because it meant something to me within that moment. The thing you're experiencing doesn't have to be "good", or "critically acclaimed". It just has to leave an indelible mark on an otherwise monotonous and unremarkable time of your life.

Unlike many of my other reviews, there's nothing else here. There's no story. There's no deeper connection. There's no gut wrenching realization. It's just a moment. A very specific moment that, even now all these years later, can be called forth in crystal clear clarity, like I'm still living it. And I think those moments are just as important as the supposedly "big" moments I usually discuss.

I still play High Seas Havoc on an emulator. I sadly never managed to own a physical copy, but even if I did, I don't know how I'd set up my Genesis to a modern TV, so it would only be good for the sake of owning something that means so much. And I completely understand why nobody else has either heard of it or likes it if they have, because it's really not a great game. It's extremely mediocre, very very standard and just across the board generic. But even in spite of all that, and even in spite of playing it on an emulator now, nothing I do with the game will ever manage to overtake that one memory I have of it. That one specific late summer night, the last night of summer vacation, where life was, well, not perfect, but probably as close as it is ever going to get for me.

It isn't a game that's well remembered or looked back fondly on, when anyone remembers it at all to begin with, but for one brief moment in my childhood, it meant the world to me, and I think that's worth remembering. As I've gotten older and my memory has gotten worse, as I've begun to unintentionally regress psychologically against my will back to the things that a child would like and feel bad about it all the while, it's nice to cling to the few good memories I have. A lot of them just happen to deal with video games. A lot of them happen to deal with big upsetting issues because of who I was when I played them.

But this one, High Seas Havoc, is genuinely a good memory. A singular good memory acting like a lifeboat in a sea of bad memories that's constantly trying to drown me.

And for that reason, I'll remember it, even if nobody else does.

I hope, for at least one minute, I've managed to make it mean something to you too.

My name is Maggie. I'm an artist/author. I make a lot of stuff. If you liked this review, you can support me over at Patreon or buy my books and other merch at Payhip.