Spirit of an Olympic champion
Hearing the name Track & Field II easily creates powerful nostalgia in me. I was a young girl learning the ins and outs of an NES in 1989 when my older brother, Tony, brought home the Olympic contest title. It was the last year that we lived in the same house and had time to sit down and play video games together. That was the year that I learned what it meant to duel an older sibling who had far better hand-and-eye coordination and reflexes and why teenagers seem to do much better at games than little kids.
I’m no Olympic athlete so I’d rather try my hand at the digital versions. Track & Field II offers a virtual bounty of events from which to choose, and all of them are pretty faithfully recreated from their original counterparts. There are 12 events to choose from, with three that can be chosen in different modes or as special events.
The events, ranging from hurdles to gymnastics and swimming, are fun to try but frustrating to learn the nuances. It took consultation with Tony, an NES Max controller and many years to get the hang of certain events. This is mostly because there wasn’t a lot of info out there in the days before the Internet and because, again, I had terrible untrained coordination and reflexes. Even today, with a wealth of tips out there, it’s still hard to get a bull’s-eye in the archery, and it’s been nearly 30 years. Graphically, there’s a few things to look at, especially for an NES title. It’s not going to set the world on fire but the graphics are fine for the time period and don’t detract from the overall experience.
The music, while not especially memorable, is still serviceable. It’s not something you’re going to be humming well after you’ve put down that turbo controller, but it’s not bad, either. A lot of the tracks are well done and fit the general mood of the event you’re participating in. There are a lot of sound effects in the game and they are generally what make the game what it is.
The nostalgic factor is what keeps me coming back to what is a generally frustrating game. That nostalgia is what turns a potentially controller-throwing hurdles event into a first-place triumph over a notoriously hard A.I. that likes to punish at every chance.
It’s my chance to feel like the Olympic champion that I will never be.