For some Gainesville residents, old school is the only school
The man known only as Squirrel sat at the end of the bar. Wearing an upturned hoodie and shrouded in dim lighting, he casually sipped from his plastic water cup. He ignored the other bar patrons, some of whom were watching him. He was too busy focusing on the screen above the bar, his fingers jittering in time with the game. Jump, jump, run, shoot, jump, shoot, slide, shoot. A ballet of robotic mayhem scrolled across the screen. "Mega Man" was not his favorite game, nor his best, but he played it with a sparkling grin.
Squirrel was one of several people who made the trek to 1982 Bar for its weekly Video Game Night, which is held every Monday whenever a band isn't schedule to play. 1982, located at 919 W. University Ave., is known for its small shows and the televisions scattered above the bar. Its video game menu includes all the classics gamers grew up with: "Mario," "Metroid," "Duck Hunt," "Mega Man," "Mario Kart," "Sonic," "GoldenEye 007," "Punch-Out!!" and more. Some come for the dollar beers, most stay for the games.
Video Game Night is one of a few gathering spots for Gainesville's retrogaming scene. Eschewing most modern games, retrogamers maintain strong ties to the video games of their childhoods, whether they're in pursuit of nostalgia or have a simple appreciation for 8-bit graphics.
One of these retrogamers is 26-year-old Andrew Curcio, whose Super Nintendo is the centerpiece of his home entertainment center. In his living room, two attached, beckoning game controllers lie on the coffee table. "Super Mario World" and "Kirby Super Star" flank the system. Even when Curcio grew older and eventually became an adult with a full-time job, he never stopped enjoying the games he grew up playing.
"I don't think I ever lost that feeling of nostalgia," he said. "I remember the Christmas I got the Super Nintendo. I was freaking out."
Curcio now gets his old-school games from R.U. Game?, 5186 SW 34th St., a retailer that devotes most of its stock to classic games and consoles. R.U. Game? is independently owned-a secret star in a time when GameStop has a near-monopoly on the retail side of the industry.
Despite the nation's economic woes, R.U. Game? has succeeded by catering to a group of gamers whose only options for finding retro games are through garage sales and eBay.
Curcio and Squirrel both shop at the store. Curcio, who has been there a few times in the past several months, most recently purchased "Aladdin" and "Tetris" for his SNES. He gets upset when his girlfriend beats him in "Tetris," who once held the high score at 1982.
Jason Burroughs, the bartender working on the cold Monday night in December I met Squirrel, said 1982 has held Video Game Night for at least four years, and it's popular among students and Gainesville locals alike.
"Some nights we can be swamped within 30 minutes," Burroughs said.
This evening was more low-key than usual, Burroughs said, probably due to finals or the bitter arctic wind. No more than 20 had come out, and everyone was either at a controller or watching someone else play. Squirrel, who doesn't like being referred to anything other than his self-appointed nickname, asked Burroughs to change the game to "Mortal Kombat." Selecting Baraka, a demonic creature with swords attached to his arms, he struggled to remember combos. He pulled out a scrap of white paper and a pen and scribbled notes, taking a few seconds to search his memory. His next fight was a flawless victory.
I tried playing against him in the violent brawler for a few rounds, suffering multiple fatalities and decapitation. A gracious opponent, Squirrel wrote down the codes for Raiden-my choice character. Soon I was shooting lightning into his face, while he explained why he loved the old school.
"They're simply the best. They're the most popular and the most selling," he said. "These games just attract me. If I ever get bored I can just play them."
An unemployed artist who spends any money he has on old-school games, Squirrel comes to 1982 every Monday. He still owns the Nintendo from his childhood that propelled him on the gaming path.
"I watched my brother play 'Mario,'" he said, "and I just wanted to jump into it."
"Mario" is still his favorite to this day. The unemployed artist has two "Mario" posters in his room and takes pride in his ability to draw the legendary plumber.
"He is my lover," he deadpanned, without irony or sarcasm.
