I started gaming in 1982, when my father took my brother and me to K-Mart as part of his “Honey-Do” list. While wandering through the store looking at items we weren’t there to buy, an electronic God of 1980’s electronic Gods stood out on an end cap…the Atari 2600. This was the very beginning of an addiction I have yet to beat, a monkey that has been on my back encouraging me to miss days of school, days of work, sleep and sex for the past 26 years.



Generation after generation, I’ve had each console and each of their successors. I’ve enjoyed countless deaths, spells, mysteries, curses, invasions and street races, but never understood what it was that compelled me to pick up the sticks and relax. At least until I picked Ico for no reason other than enjoying the art direction of the game. Lucky me. Hopefully, many of you know of Ico or better yet, have enjoyed it as much as myself. I’ve never been one to “care” about anything I’m doing in a game. Just complete the tasks, move forward, repeat as necessary. But this, this made me wonder why people would choose to abandon this child? What would I do? How the hell do I get out of this castle and as far away from the Queen with Yorda in tow? Something as seemingly simple as holding another person’s hand, somehow, meant something to me. Yorda was my responsibility, mine alone. It was going to be alright.



With each level essentially being a puzzle, it was refreshing to think about my actions and not just react. Not only did they affect me, but the life of this young girl who was as unwanted as me. We were connected. The developers captured the type of caring and loyalty you will rarely ever see in a video game. I think back to the President’s daughter in RE4 and how I wished I could just pop her and keep moving forward. She slowed me down, she annoyed me. But not Yorda. She reminded me of the precog Agatha from Minority Report. Meek and unassuming, she held the key to another person’s salvation.



If I owe any game “Thanks”, it would be owed to Ico and Fumito Ueda. Not only was I inspired to view all games as something more substantial than a diversion or toy, they opened my eyes to a medium far too underappreciated for the stories they share and connections they make with people every day. Games inspire. Games motivate. Games encourage. Games are forever a part of me and Ico is why.