How Hi Score Girl helped me survive having my dreams crushed

The last couple of years working for Destructoid after it was bought out by Gamurs Group was absolute hell. There was an article about it on Aftermath, and while I didn’t comment on it at the time because I was still employed there, it’s all true. Gamurs Group would chase SEO off a cliff. Which, they essentially have done.

I had been reading Destructoid since 2008 or ‘09, and I dreamt about writing for the publication. I went to college for writing, but didn’t really know what I wanted to do with the skill, and writing about games seemed incredible. But it was like dreaming of playing in the NHL or being a movie star; not something I believed would ever happen to me. I don’t have the skill for that sort of thing, and I’m not enough of a self-promoter to even be noticed. So it didn’t seem worthwhile to even try.

Eventually, I was pushed into making the effort. In 2017, I founded this site, and started posting in Destructoid’s community blogs. In 2019, I started writing casually for them. In 2021, they began paying me a monthly retainer. Not a lot, but I loved it. When Gamurs acquired the site in late 2022, they brought me on full-time, so I was finally getting a modest but liveable wage. My literal dream job.

SO LONG, AND THANKS FOR PISSING ON MY DREAMS

My elation didn’t last long, since they did a big round of layoffs across their network the very next month. Then they started firing people on a seemingly regular basis. One of the first high-profile firings was Destructoid lifer Chris Moyse, and that was a massive blow. Easily one of the best writers the site had, and someone I respect greatly.

Later, they followed through and shut down the community side of the site, which was one of the core ideas that made the site distinct and allowed it to stand out. Something central to its identity. However, the reasoning isn’t entirely malicious, since that part of the site was old code that would need to be detangled to bring up to safety standards, but it was disappointing to see that they didn’t even try to build a bridge with the community. They didn’t even announce it themselves; they left it to the moderator team, which was how I found out about it.

I don’t think I completely lost faith that things would turn around until Timothy Monbleau was shown the door. At that point, it felt like there was no going back to the more colourful days of the site. It was pretty obvious my time would come one day, and I’m sort of surprised that I lasted as long as I did.

I had agency to still write whatever I wanted until, inevitably, I didn’t. My sarcastic, irreverent articles about bad games weren’t pulling enough traffic, so I was pushed toward writing SEO guides and listicles, which I think are mainly trafficked by gambling-addicted children, internet bots, and writers for other sites who just want to lift the information for their own guides. I did so half-heartedly, while, with my other half-heart, I still wrote the stuff that interested me.

I was miserable, depressed, endlessly anxious, and thoroughly jaded. Bad enough that I had to acknowledge the existence of Roblox, I got to see ownership wash away the identity of a website I loved with a heavy stream of piss. When the axe finally came down on me, it was partially a relief. I was the last pre-Gamurs writer left on the site, as longtime Editor-in-Chief, Chris Carter, was let go the week before. You wouldn’t normally hear me talk ill about a former employer. I’m a professional. But fuck those people from orbit.

While the fun was getting sucked out of the career I had long dreamed of, I feared that something would happen to me that I saw with a lot of colleagues: I was afraid that I’d stop loving video games. And during that time, it was the Hi Score Girl manga that kept the fire stoked.

A TRIP TO ASTRO CITY

The series showed up on my radar after I did an article on Genpei Tōma Den (The Genji and the Heike Clans). A reader offhandedly mentioned that they had heard about the game from the anime adaptation of Hi Score Girl. I decided to pick up the manga instead. I don’t remember why. My intention was to simply buy issues individually as I went through them, which I did, but I read them so fast I had all ten volumes within the month.

The series centres around Haruo Yaguchi. It starts in 1991 during his childhood, and progresses through to 1996 in his teen years. It covers a few themes, including unrequited romance, star-crossed love, and finding identity. It’s sometimes billed as a romantic comedy, but not only is it a pretty cruel one, romance is only part of the story. The other half is a love letter to video games and learning to balance passion with responsibility; something I knew I would need to soon relearn.

It’s rooted in Japanese ‘90s arcade culture. It touches on all sorts of games that were popular at the time, as well as some incredibly obscure ones. It kicks off with the arcade boom caused by Street Fighter II, and that game remains central to the plot throughout. But while that is the pivotal game of the story, Haruo loves video games in general, and talks about swaths of them. It would be easy for the writing to just get into the thick of talking about the games, but it’s largely presented through Haruo’s enthusiasm rather than an encyclopedic focus on the facts. Rather than explain what the games are, he talks about what makes them special and why he loves them.

OH, UNREQUITED LOVE

Haruo is flanked by two romantic interested, and I wound up relating in some way to all three of the central characters in different ways. However, it was with Haruo’s enthusiasm that I connected with the most. One thing that lead me to writing about video games was not just my enthusiasm, but the way I’ve always tried projecting that onto others. Growing up, I felt that since I loved video games, everyone should love them. By my reasoning, a person who doesn’t play video games is someone who hasn’t tried them.

That has stayed with me into adulthood, where I still figure if I can get a person to open up to the idea of playing video games, I can ignite that passion. If I can guide them, they’ll have something to latch onto. If someone only occasionally plays them, they just haven’t tried the right games, and if I make the right recommendations, they’ll fall deeper in love. Consciously, I’m not convinced that’s entirely true. Sometimes, folks are more geared toward other passions. But deep down, that’s how I feel. Get me into a conversation about video games at your own peril.

I also have trouble relating to people on anything except video games, and that has lead to a degree of loneliness. Even though I’m married, and I’m still close with my family, I don’t feel that anyone really understands me. I don’t talk much unless you get me in a conversation about games (or writing). In a way, Hi Score Girl made me feel seen.

Like me, Haruo seems to frame everything in life around video games. When he first meet Akira Ono, he mistakes his infatuation for competitiveness. When she doesn’t seem to reciprocate the rivalry, instead pushing him to more cooperative games like Final Fight, he takes it as rejection.

Koharu Hidaka is introduced after a jump forward in time. Initially, she takes up video games as a way of trying to get Haruo’s attention. He remains completely oblivious to the point of hurtful ignorance. But while the constant rejection and unrequited feelings are painful for her, the passion for video games grows on her until it becomes part of her identity.

THE TEMPLE OF VIDEO GAMES

The love triangle and constant will-they-won’t-they is effective and told in a very human way, but it’s the video games that get caught between that I got the most value from. It is, perhaps most importantly, a Japanese window into the hobby. Previously, I got this perspective from GameCenter CX, which I also recommend.

I often researched as I read. A game would be mentioned, and I’d try to find it on MobyGames. That was rarely enough, though. I dusted off my arcade stick and began buying up compilations and entries in Hamster’s Arcade Archives series. Before long, I bought a Sega Astro City Mini, and much later followed that up with a Taito Egret II Mini. I got an Analogue Duo and imported a bunch of games. I got back into Street Fighter 2 and spun off to give more time to the Street Fighter Alpha and Darkstalkers series. I even picked up Street Fighter 6.

Hi Score Girl gave me a new respect for arcade games. I’ve never been one to chase high scores, and, as most console ports have unlimited continues, a lot of the challenge is sucked out of them. I’ve always liked arcade games, it was just somewhat difficult to connect with them outside their natural habitat. Hi Score Girl made me want to connect with them further by actually building my skill. Trying to complete them in one credit and learn them at a deeper level. It’s a more meaningful connection than just popping in (virtual) quarters until the credits roll and calling it a day.

OVER THE HORIZON

As things got worse at Destructoid, I started pouring more and more focus into arcade games. I swapped out the buttons and stick on my arcade stick to give it more of a Sega Astro City neon green look. When things got really bad, I started going to my parents every other weekend, spending quiet afternoons hammering buttons and playing Puzzle Bobble with my mom.

Staying sane felt like a full-time endeavour. My job was a dark cloud over my entire life, and I felt like I had no future. My problem, I began to realize, was that I was looking at my job like it was my future, so I was seeing it as the end. Through Hi Score Girl, I discovered that I needed to stop looking at it that way. Losing my job didn’t mean video games would be over. There are video games on the other side. I had to detach video games from my career. I needed to take my video games back from those people. That’s why I rebranded The Game Complaint Department to Maximum Utmost. I knew I’d need it one day.

So, I did. With the help of Hi Score Girl. Thanks to Rensuke Oshikiri, I didn’t wind up a hollowed out husk. I’ve got a lot of scars that need to heal, but I’m still here telling you all about my adventures as I meander around the landscape and make weird discoveries. Now, if I could find a new day job…