Cod Almighty | Article

by Simon Wilson

18 May 2005

The first half of the 90s was full of rivalries, some close, a number partisan, others wishful thinking. Blur versus Oasis; Man Utd versus everybody else; John Major versus Neil Kinnock; Sensible Soccer versus Kick Off.

There was only one winner in that last contest. My brief flirtation with Kick Off was just killing time. It was too rough, a make-do, a distraction before the sensual and graceful pleasure that was Sensi arrived. It was like swapping Tommy Watson for Dave Gilbert.

Why? There was something pure about the football played in Sensi. Firstly, the game forced you to play to feet. Of course you could play long ball if you so wanted, but the mechanics of the game suited passing better.

One tap of the fire button and the pass was made, helped by so much of the pitch being visible. Seeing over half the width and a third of the length of the pitch, 'radars' Wrestling for control with a joypadweren't needed. Move towards the opposition goal and the screen would scroll up or down.

Outfield play was reduced to the basics: running with the ball, pass or shoot (curl optional), sliding tackles, throw-ins, and very occasionally a spectacular thumping diving header (as diving headers should be). Which, when you think about it, is all football is. All this modern-day rubbish, my arse. None of this "press the x button for a 'ground pass' and press the circle button for a 'lofted pass'". One tap of the fire button with the joystick pointing the right way, and that's where the ball went. Usually to the feet of a team-mate if one was near, into empty space if there wasn't. Holding down the fire button was like pulling your foot back, producing a big hit: a long pass, a cross, or a shot. And moving the joystick to one side would put curl on that ball. It couldn't have been easier.

Knocking together 20 consecutive passes made one satisfying thud after another. Even if you were losing you could play in style

Oh, and it was all at one pace. The players just moved – no quick bursts of speed or sprints, unless you gave the ball to someone who was bloody fast anyway. If only everyone in life ambulated at such a constant, steady pace.

The graphics – small but perfectly formed. And the sound? Passing it about not only looked cool: it sounded cool as well. Knocking together 20 consecutive passes made one satisfying thud after another. Even if you were losing you could play in style.

Sensi came from the more sociable days when you could have two-player games on one computer – and I do mean computer – without having to hook two computers through some lead or over the internet like the kids seem to do these days. Two people sitting on the same settee could plug two controllers into the same machine and watch the action on the same screen.

Sometimes you might end up with the bum joystick: one of the switches wasn't quite right, or your thumb blistered from gripping the base too hard, or it didn't fit in your hand too well. But these were part of the collective, bonding experience. It was a closer, friendlier affair.

Through on goalAnd as the game loaded you had time to make a cup of hot chocolate (as was my drink of choice during my a-level days), have a natter and decide whether it was going to be My Bloody Valentine, Suede or the Housemartins that was our accompanying music (not that we had much choice; it was that or Radio 1).

People who played on computer games back in 1994 were also considered sad. Now locking yourself away with a computer game is considered socially acceptable. I say we were just ahead of our time. (You watch – reading books will be the big thing in ten years' time.)

And once it was loaded, that was the end. It was just so addictive. 'Quick gos' are never just that. The 'replay game' option after each match is just too tempting. Minutes become hours. The day just flies by. For all you know the War of the Worlds could have kicked off outside. But you're too busy trying to win the World Cup with Malta.

Those long, midweek winter evenings after school and after tea, Tim and I would get started about seven o'clock. Cram in a few quick games before studying? Could do. Come half nine, a quick assessment was taking place of what could be fitted into study periods, and how much work really needed doing by tomorrow anyway...

Sensi was miles away from its ultra-realistic rival, Kick Off – which in its own right revolutionised computer footie games – and yet it wasn't. Kick Off raised the bar for what a computer footie game should and can do; Sensi just refined the play. There was no need to hold down fire to trap the ball. Your players didn't have a turning circle that a penny-farthing (or Steve Livingstone) would be proud of. Just football. Kick Off was a football simulation; Sensi was a football game.The right equipment

Sensi Soccer isn't a game to be played with a joypad (as I found out yesterday). Trying this invariably means the frustrating action of what looks like a one-two with an opposition player. Except the opponent just takes the ball, instantly moving back towards your goal. You need a joystick. Nothing else will do. And only an Amiga will do. There was a PC version but it lacked a certain je ne sais quoi. The tools for playing Sensi are set in stone.

Border Security. Young Boys. Hearts of Oak. They were all shit, but it just added to the lure of making them champions

Sensible World of Soccer, or SWOS – Sensi's bigger brother, with a little management side to things – was to blame for the modern fan's infatuation with mighty football club names. Before European football became the big money-chasing sham that it is these days (and when there were three competitions as well). Before the advent of the internet. Before every fan with failed and unfulfilled dreams of football management devoted every spare moment to Championship Manager. SWOS had them all locked away inside.

Border Security (India). Nasser Hussain (Algeria). Young Boys (Switzerland). Hearts of Oak (Ghana). Kaiser Chiefs (South Africa, and well before they were a top ten pop band). And they were all shit, but it just added to the lure of making them champions. Champions of their league. Champions of their continent. It was all part of the challenge, the irresistible, fascinating draw.

I knew this all too well. And I realise it again. I've been ill the past couple of days, you see. And there's only so much mulling away the day and looking over a page of your book that you can do. So I plugged in the Amiga and flopped out on the settee. Come to think of it, no matter what joystick you used, you always ended up with sore hands.

Do you have fond memories of Sensi Soccer, Kick Off, or another old-skool footy game? Get thee to the feedback form and tell Cod Almighty all about them.