I was really pleased to see that the inaugural posting of Co-Op Casual Friday at Co-Optimus was about Super Mario Galaxy. Most people don’t consider that game a true “co-op” title considering the fact that the second player adds so very little to the experience. Player 2 can shoot some stars at enemies, and with a timed button-press, can (sometimes, but not reliably) help Mario to jump slightly higher.
But ask my boys (Caleb, age 6, on the left, and Alex, age 3, on the right), and they will tell you without a second’s hesitation that Super Mario Galaxy is the best co-op game in existence. This is despite the fact that Alex plays the game with a GameCube Wavebird controller. Turned off.
To understand where this behavior emanates from, you have to first have a quick glimpse into my own “co-op” gaming history. I have an admittedly skewed sense of what makes a true “co-op” gaming experience, because gaming was originally not something I did, but something I watched. Back in the mid-1980’s, we would rent an NES from our local video store and spend lazy summer days inside playing Legend of Zelda, Dragon Warrior, Mega Man, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Actually, to be perfectly clear, my brother would play. I was the navigator. The path and clue suggestor. The purveyor and interpretor of maps. The researcher flipping diligently through Nintendo Power back-issues searching for secrets, hints, and cheats. That was my job. Until my brother went to college and left the NES (and, by that time, our SNES) in my capable hands. I played then, and didn’t think about co-op gaming again until years later.
And now, we’ve come full circle. These days, co-op gaming means two (or more) people working together to achieve a common goal, usually shooting as many aliens and/or zombies as humanly possible along the way. To my boys, co-op gaming means nothing more than enjoying a game together. Sure, one of them has the wrong controller, and it’s off, but it’s the shared experience that truly makes it co-op. Caleb plays. Alex suggests. And the two bond over a sea of stars and one bounding, boisterous plumber.
Don’t forget: it’s dangerous to go alone.
