Bomberman 2

26 years on, the opening ditty to Dyna Blaster on the Amiga is still seared into my memory, a perfect, personal time capsule that exists nowhere else but my brain. I only need to hum the first 10 seconds of that jingle and suddenly I'm transported back in time to 1991. 12 years old and huddled around an Amiga 500+ with four of my friends in a tiny bedroom in Garsington, Oxford.

Bomberman 2

Bomberman 2

Bang on.

There is a confession I have to make, and it's as well that I get it out of the way now. I suck. At Bomberman 2. I am endlessly found hanging around just inside the blast radius of my own bombs, joyfully entering cul-de-sacs in front of hungrier, more talented players and gleefully toddling over to poison skulls to savour their various debilitating flavours. I'll loiter quite blithely on floors flickering with the ominous orange of impending flames and stare, entranced, at the sparking laser warming up just in front of me. And this is just single-player - traditionally the relatively sedate and simple cousin of the main, multiplayer, event. The Stephen to multiplayer's Alec.

Starting up a multiplayer game is a whole other world of ownership, trounced regularly into last place against 'super easy' CPU opposition and the likes of the Eurogamer tech team. The tech team.

You know what? While I'm at it, I have another confession to make. I have very little patience. With almost everything but Bomberman 2.

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