Introduction

From age 21-25 my friends and I closed out many a bar, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I was usually the designated driver so I had the joy of performing the "drunken roundup" as I called it. It also meant that I saw closing time with a sober mind. Putting it into perspective, it was a slightly depressing time. The celebratory mood that filled the air a mere two hours ago was a distant memory. Throughout the evening the more desirable people trickled out the door.

By the time last call was announced several people rushed to send off the night with a final drink. They'd look for a last minute hook-up then leave feeling dejected, sometimes angry. When closing time was finally called there was always that one lonely drinker still at the bar, trying to cling on until the last possible moment.

Video game systems aren't all that different. A console manufacturer starts hinting that they're working on a new system. There aren't any final specifications, release dates, or even potential names, just hints that something is coming. Game publishers who have good ideas in an early development stage hold-off until they know more. The selection for existing systems starts to grow thinner.

The console manufacturer makes a grand announcement about their upcoming system, last call. The publishers work overtime to produce games for it. Projects already underway for existing systems get reassigned to the B, or even C, team. They're far enough along that scrapping or porting them wouldn't be worthwhile. Some are rushed out the door like the frenzy of last minute drinkers. Others sit in a stool, nursing their drink until the bitter end, closing time.

This article is a tribute to those games that were the final lonely patron of a once festive tavern on a Saturday night. While another three-way console war is reaching the height of its fury, let's reflect on the final days of systems past. Maybe we can even learn how these now hot consoles may spend their inevitable last days.