I have owned a Wii since the day it came out. Well, technically I’ve owned one since day one. I physically owned one from about a week after they’d come out, seeing as I had to wait a while to go and collect it from the sorting office.
Like many, I was initially enthralled and excited by the possibilities, and like many I soon became disillusioned and bored with what was on offer. I am a solitary gamer a lot of the time, and while Wii Sports was fun to break out at the many (many) parties I had at my flat, it just didn’t cut it in the long run.
The Wii received a new lease of life in the Manchester flat as it sat there in the living room. This was for two reasons: one, my flatmate’s young nephews enjoyed playing on it, and two, I started getting a bit of freelance for it, as it seemed I was the only one willing to do reviews of Wii games. MadWorld? Score.
But when I moved to Bournemouth the console didn’t even make it out of the box. It stayed firmly encased in its Nintendo-branded cardboard for months on end before I finally broke it out. Why? Resident Evil Zero freelance. Then it went right back into the box.
Today it’s been broken out once more, freed from the constraints of a container that never really held it that well. Why? Wii Party. Guess what’s going to happen once I’m done that freelance? Straight back in the cupboard – though maybe not the box, as I can’t be bothered trying to jam everything in there again.
What have I learned through all of this? I don’t care about the Wii, but I don’t hate it enough to sell it on. Oh, and controllers that use those old-fashioned “battery” things need to fuck off and die. Soon.