The Hidden Magic of Portable Gaming
Written by: Jake Beatrice
I’ve never been the outdoorsy type. Harsh temperatures, bug bites, and a fear of unknown places all keep me inside. With gaming being my number one hobby, I spend most of my time chained to my computer desk or huddled into a dark, secluded corner on an old TV. Portable gaming, however, has proven to be one of the very few tools in which to break those restraints. Not only does it allow me to play some of my favorite games whenever I like, but it also grants me the ability to set aside any trepidation or anxiety towards the unknown world by bringing an entirely familiar world with me in my pocket. This is the hidden magic of portable gaming.
The beach is one of my least favorite places in the world. But with yearly family Florida trips, I always find myself returning to the sand and salt swamp. Three years ago, I decided to bring my 3DS along to play on the shore, despite my fear of sea goop contamination within the plastic crevices. After retreating from the ocean-side and heading to the drink station for a breather, I spotted some nearby empty gazebos meant for parties. Just to keep my distance from the water and sand, I decided to nestle myself into one of the shelters. I spent the remainder of the day playing Donkey Kong and Kirby’s Dream Land on Gameboy through the 3DS e-Shop.
“Jake, are you kidding me? You went to the beach with family, separated yourself from them, and played Gameboy!?” As strange and as backwards as it may sound, I see this as being a healthy experience. While I was enjoying the simple, familiar worlds of Donkey Kong and Kirby, part of me was also adapting to the salted aromas, the gentle, sand-infused breeze, and the oppressive yet strangely comforting humidity. For once in my life, despite all the anxieties and discomfort, I was able to embrace what was previously a personal hell.
For today’s nostalgia junkies, portable gaming also helps to build cherished memories. This is in stark contrast to the average gaming experience on console or PC. Where was I when I hit the top of the leaderboards in Guitar Hero 2? My couch in the living room. Where was I when I completed Uncharted 2: Among Thieves for my first platinum trophy? My couch in the living room. Met a great friend online through PSN? Beating Bowser in Super Mario Bros. for the first time as a kid? Overcoming death and the fragility of our own mortality in Persona 3? You get the idea.
Now, where was I when I finally overcame the most difficult race in Wipeout: Pulse on PSP? A small, grimy log cabin with a breathtaking view of Lake Michigan. Where were we when a friend and I finally recruited an exceedingly rare five-star chef to create the most effective rations in Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker? Deep in the woods behind a local park during an otherwise painfully boring mandatory club picnic. How about amidst a devastating plot reveal in Zero Escape Vol. 2: Virtue’s Last Reward? I was heading home from Florida at 2AM, in the back of the family car, with the Vita’s OLED screen fading to a perfect pitch black with each dramatic twist.
So often today, we hear stories of kids being locked into their phones, completely unreceptive to the beauty in the world around them. These are fair concerns, but it’s also important that we recognize the possibility of the reverse effect. On top of reducing exploratory anxieties through familiarity, portable gaming can also work to create treasured memories within those new environments, forming additional places of comfort in one’s mind. Handheld gaming has helped myself and many others break from the restrictions of routine, and to unlock real-world possibilities behind an unwavering mental barrier.