I recently had a face-to-face conversation (you know, the opposite of texting or private messaging) with a friend of mine about which game controllers were our number one and number two favorites. Obviously, the Xbox 360 controller is the greatest of all time; nobody is arguing against that. And, obviously, the PS3 controller is a pile of dung. Again, old news.
But while thinking back on all of the official console controllers starting with the NES — which was my first foray into the gaming landscape — my choice for number two favorite controller caused a ripple in our discussion, one that reverberated beyond the close knit confines of my living room and shook the very foundations of the society within which we live.
Mouths were agape, minds were blown, awes were shocked (?)!
I chose the GameCube controller.
What’s the big deal? That thing was fucking dope. It looked the fool, but was truly a king among men… er, controllers.
The comfort and quirk of that little purple bastard — with its peculiar button layout and analog design that would basically be perfected by Microsoft — is second only to that king which replaced it. The octagonal margin around the right analog stick was pretty slick, and even though the thumb surface was a third the size of the left it still felt good.
In some ways, it almost takes the number one spot, having come first and basically served as the progenitor of what was to come. But a few months at best with my GameCube (whatever happened to that thing?) — compared to seven years of gaming with the Xbox 360 controller — relegates it to my number two spot, but with an asterisk for fond memories.
And actually probably one of my last fond memories provided by Nintendo.