Most of my memories as a young child consist of video games. It's strange when I think of my earliest memories, only to see visions of Duck Tales, Mario, and Chip and Dale bouncing around in my head. But there was one game that impacted more than any of those, one that stuck with me over the years as being strangely forbidden and sacred; one of the best action platformers of all time, Mega Man 2.

Mega Man 2 was a game I wasn't “allowed” to play. There were no specific repercussions should I choose to break this rule, I was just told it wasn't for kids. My parents had rented it one evening and I desperately wanted to catch a glimpse of it, but with a friend at my house for a sleep over, my request was denied and after we were put to bed, we could hear my parents' shouts of joy, frustration, and all the 8-bit bleeps and bloops that went along with it chiming merrily in the background.

At around five or six in the morning, I found myself completely awake. I bugged my friend to get up, and downstairs we went with the blue glow of the TV screen guiding our way through the early morning darkness. I was determined to see the game that had been kept from me, the forbidden fruit that I wasn't allowed to touch. What was the big deal? Why wouldn't they let me play it? I had first choice on nearly every game up to that point, how was this one any different?

I quickly found out that they were simply trying to spare my feelings. More so than any other game I had played before Mega Man 2 was hard. Brutally hard in fact, and the lack of any real direction or railroading meant total freedom, a fearful thing in such a harsh, relentless virtual environment.



I remember the giant mech riding Sniper Joes scared me. Heat Man's level put me ill at ease. Every time I managed to reach a boss, which was a massive success in its own right, I was immediately put to shame, my hopes crushed along with my life bar. “See, I told you not to play it.” my mom said with a smirk, but left me to my devices anyway as I ignored her, staring past my bowl of quickly softening Alpha Bit cereal as I selected “continue” for the fifty thousandth time.

After repeated rentals over the years, I would finally be able to make it to the last stage on my own. But even though there were infinite continues, the wall of difficulty had become one more of intimidation; if my parents had not gotten past a part, or someone else I knew hadn't, I didn't want to proceed. I was afraid of the unknown, of the potential defeats and losses. The game just never seemed to get much easier, and I certainly didn't get any better at it. It seemed utterly hopeless, and eventually I gave up altogether.

The other Mega Man games put that one to shame, though. Mega Man 3 was an exercise in utter futility, the only thing keeping me around being the robot dog Rush and the eerie, catchy, memorable music each stage had which I felt was collectively better than the second in the series. I never got anywhere in that game! I had no idea how to start, where to go next, and the Mega Man gameplay that was already beyond my skill level was even more difficult. Once I was finally able to defeat the robot masters, only to find I had to face eight more across four levels which were twice as difficult, I put the game down forever. I just couldn't take the heat, man.



When I finally came across the first game, which was the first I had ever owned, I was delighted. With only six robot masters, it was going to be a breeze. It had to be. The games had gotten more difficult as they went on, so why would the first be?

Well, to put it simply, the game was hard as nuts. Yellow Devil be damned, I still hate playing it to this day. It was absolutely infuriating, and I was frustrated at how badly it kicked me to the curb and stomped my guts out.

Years later, after the NES, after falling in love with the Mega Man X series and getting progressively better as I worked my way through each subsequent game, I got the Mega Man Collection for PS2. And after years of sitting out most of the Mega Man games in the original series, and never owning a single one but the first, I finally had the opportunity to engage in the masochism that had scarred me so much, and to face the unconquerable titan that was Mega Man 2.

Mega Man 2 was ridiculously easier after my several year long sabbatical. I remembered all the bosses, all the secret weapons, the layout of each and every level, and was off to a good start. When I finally reached the Wily stages, I was feeling better about the whole thing. And apart from some bizarre surprises, like the maddening turrets near the finale which can only be destroyed by crash bombs, I managed to fight to the end. After an exhausting fight with Wily, and yet another twist that plunged me into a further fight (along with thirty minutes of hair pulling weapon switching before I picked the damn bubble gun which finally did him in) I was finally victorious, laying years of struggle to rest.

For some reason though, I wasn't satisfied. I was happy I had finally won, but it didn't felt deserved. So many other people had done it so much better before me. It was due to laziness and a lack of dedication that I took so long to get to any level of competency. It wasn't right. It had to be corrected.

So I played the game again, and beat it. And then again. And then I turned it to difficult, trudged my way through that. And then I played it some more. I kept on playing it, kept beating it, kept proving myself wrong; it had not been a fluke, I was just that much better. I had overcome the game through skill and practice, there had been no undeserved miracle that had taken place.



Since then I have beaten it what feels like dozens of times, on both difficulties. I have a pattern I follow which is somewhat unusual, starting at Quick Mans level, then Heat Man, then Metal Man, then Wood Man, Air Man, Bubble Man, Flash Man, and finally finishing it all off with Crash Man, who I always leave to the very last as a tradition, since I felt him to be the most difficult. I can play some levels without getting hit a single time, can beat the entire game without losing a life on either difficulty, all out of the desire to actually master a video game, to prove I had mad skills.

I am by no means world class, but every time I play the game, I give myself an additional challenge. Beat this stage boss using the weapon he has the most defenses against, beat the game without E Tanks, etc. The only other game I have ever done this with was Sonic the Hedgehog, when I was trying to get the world record high score which has since been beaten into the ground. I don't have that level of obsessiveness required to truly know the ins and outs of a game, but with Mega Man 2, I seem to be getting closer and closer to that Rain Man level of clairvoyance.

Why would I do all this, though? Why put myself through the ringer? What is the point, nobody cares about Mega Man! People do speed runs all the time, they play the entire game without taking a hit, and do other extraordinary feats I will never be able to reach. Yet I have poured hundreds of hours into a game that isn't relevant in any competitive way, that I will STILL never get good enough at to receive any kind of legitimate praise for!

Maybe I'm a masochist, or maybe I'm a loser, (Well, that is probably true regardless.) but Mega Man 2 was the first game that really cried out to be defeated; a game so insurmountably difficult at the time that I just had to conquer it, beat the hell out of it, wipe the stinking floor with it.

I don't really have an answer for why I mastered Mega Man 2, but after all this time and all the playthroughs I have done, I have this to say about it; it's a really fun game. It may not require the level of analytical finesse of current games, or even other games of its time, but beat the giant, through many long hours and years of hard work and perseverance. I didn't do it because I had to in order to enjoy the game, I did it because I loved the game, and I still do to this day.



I may never know what it is like to raise my APM for a Starcraft 2 match, or learn exactly what “ganking” means and why it is so important in MOBA games, but I know this; Mega Man 2 is the best game ever made, the metal blade is WAY OP, and the secret to avoiding the lasers in Quick Mans level is to not be a chump, to be hardcore like I am, and not to pussy out and use the freeze move, you bunch of pansies.