WOLVERINE (NES)

You all know who Wolverine is, right? Good, that'll save some time. Here he is in Software Creation's 1991 Bub-em-up, erm, Wolverine!

When I think of everyone's favourite Canadian killing machine, I think of one thing: this.



That probably gives you a good idea of my age. What I don't think of when I see Wolverine, or any of the X-Men for that matter, is eight-bit videogames. That seems a bit strange, because being a child I loved both superheroes and eight-bit videogames, but I don't remember playing any eight-bit superhero-based games. I'd like to think that I had some kind of psychic shield that protected me from crappy games, but my experiences with Dragon's Lair prove that isn't true. Anyway, at least it means I can play Wolverine without any nostalgia or bitter memories of smashed control pads getting in the way of what will no doubt be an intelligent and insightful critique of the game.

Wolverine is a platform adventure where the player, controlling the titular Wolverine, jumps between floating platforms and punches guys in the chops, thus making it the same as roughly 95% of all licensed NES games. Wolverine has been imprisoned on a mysterious island, and he must fight his way out, traversing said platforms and punching said guys in the mush until he escapes, possibly with an anti-hero style quip on his hairy lips but probably not with a song in his heart.

The controls are straightforward enough: A to jump and B to punch, and by pressing select you can extend your deadly Adamantium claws. Attacking when you have your deadly rending claws out makes your attacks more powerful (as you would bloody well hope) but also oddly drains your health. Luckily, you can't use your claws once your health has dropped to a certain level, avoiding what could have been an embarrassing situation when Wolverine died due to punching the air too hard. If you manage to kill enough enemies in a row, Wolverine goes into "berserk" mode, which means he flails at the air like a hyperactive child whilst being invincible.
The first stage sees our hero in some kind of high-tech, turtleshell-based platform storeroom. The enemies mainly seem to consist of featureless white humanoids (no, not Ryan Reynolds) who disappear and reappear at will while shooting white globs at you. There are also some that fly around, and a less mature person than myself might point out that they appear to be flying via the power of their own flatulence.

The main issue with these enemies isn't so much their attacks but the fact that they occupy so much space. You see, unlike almost every other videogame ever made, when Wolverine gets hit, he doesn't get a brief period of invincibility. Nope, he just continues taking damage as long as he is in contact with an enemy, so if you time a jump wrong and land on one of the (tiny) platforms that has an enemy on it, your health quickly drains away. The mighty Wolverine lies defeated, and all because someone invaded his personal space.
The first stage is pretty short, and there's no boss at the end. Oh well, onto the next stage I gu...

Ahh! Goddamnit Sabretooth, don't do that. And take out those Hallowe'en vampire teeth! Oddly, the game shows you this screen and then... nothing. Sabretooth doesn't appear, and you simply move onto the next stage. I guess he just doesn't want to be forgotten.

Stage two is, apparently, a "Trial by Air". You know what that means: lots of hovering platforms with no floor beneath them. It certainly has a Megaman feel to it, although I'm not sure if the lack of knockback when you get hit makes it easier or more difficult.
You can find Psylocke hiding in the level, squirreled away in a secret room instead of using her superpowers to help her teammate, the selfish cow. She gives you a device that summons another mutant, Havok, and he gives you some health back, which seems like a lot of rigmarole just for a healthpack. You can also find Jubilee in a later level, but her power is to let you hold your breath for slightly longer. Even in videogames, Jubilee is rubbish.
The enemies are much the same, although some of them now have mortars. Your main opponent is the stage itself, with big magnets trying pulling you off the platforms and to your doom. Such is the curse of having a metal skeleton, I guess.

Again, it's a short stage, and there's no boss. No bosses in a side-scrolling-action-platforming-comic-book-license game? A strange decision, especially given the amount of foes Wolverine has. You could have about eight bosses a level! Once you've finished the stage, Sabretooth pops up again.

So he's, like, watching me? Creepy. Surprisingly, "watch your step" doesn't mean that the next stage is full of floating platforms.

No, stage three is "Trial by Traps", although a more accurate title might have been "Trial by Traps and shallow pools of water and ninjas, we'll throw in some ninjas".

That ninja has terrible posture. The traps in this stage are rather nicely animated, although the giant swinging axe did suddenly remind me of Dragon's Lair and I had to stop playing for a while, until the cold sweats and shivering had stopped. This levels is actually very good fun, challenging without being unfair, and it includes ninjas and giant Aztec faces.

Can't say fairer than that, can you? Once you've reached the exit, Sabretooth pops up again.

Are... are you coming on to me, Sabretooth? Wolverine in a swimsuit doesn't bear thinking about, although if I know the internet there is almost certainly a site devoted to crudely-drawn fanart of Wolverine in various types of beachwear. Please do not send me link to it.

Obviously, it's a water-themed stage. You've got to manoeuvre Wolverine through a series of narrow, water-filled passageways, a task made all the more difficult by the hundreds of propellers that fill the water. It makes sense that they could hurt you: I'm sure even Wolverine doesn't fancy being diced by whirring metal blades, even if he can heal from it later. It also makes sense that the frogmen who patrol the stage can hurt you by shooting you. Fair enough, getting shot hurts. What I can't understand is deadly bubbles.

The mighty Wolverine, a super-powerful mutant with metal bones and a healing factor that lets him regenerate from any injury, can be hurt by a bubble popping against his skin. These deadly bubbles seem to crop up pretty damn often in videogames, especially games of this period, and they are as filled with bullshit now as they were then. Why would they even hurt? Are they bubbles of acid? Are they filled with a poisonous gas? NO THEY'RE JUST FUCKING BUBBLES. The only explanation I can think of is that whenever a hero gets hurt by a bubble, they are merely feigning injury to try and spare the feelings of whatever villain though that installing a bubble-blowing machine would be the perfect way to destroy their nemesis. "Oh no... bubbles! You really got me that time, Dr. Villainman! Oh, ouch, they slice me like a million blades when they pop against my skin/hide/armour. Truly you have bested me this time!"
Although it's more likely that bubbles are simple to draw and animate. Still, dangerous bubbles are everywhere and must be destroyed: if I must be the champion of this noble cause, then so be it.
Sabretooth makes his customary end-of-stage appearance:

"Because I'm taking you to the cinema tonight. HA HA HA!"
Not really - the next stage is the Trial by Terror. Ooooh, spooky.

Spooky indeed, as Wolverine makes his way through a faintly Castlevania-esque stage. The enemies are... well, I'm not sure. There're some extending piles of green mucus, half a Grim Reaper who throws skulls at you, and what appears to be a Frankenstein's Monster version of one of the members of Daft Punk.

The game starts to get a bit difficult here for a couple of reasons. One is the afore-mentioned lack of knockback when you take damage, meaning you can easily lose all you health when one of the (surprisingly fast) monsters walks into you. This is compounded by the fact that, even with his claws extended, Wolverine's attacks have a range of around seven microns. Thirdly, there's a lot less space to move around on this stage because the enemies are bigger. Still, at least the game is kind enough to start you at the spot where you died, rather than forcing you to go back to a checkpoint.

After a while you descend into some crypt, complete with tombs that say "Logan" on them. Yep, that'll scare Wolverine into stopping his pursuit of Sabretooth. Speaking of The 'Tooth, what does he have to say for himself?

"That's the movie we're going to see tonight! HA HA HA!"
Fire stage? You better bet this is a fire stage.

Yes, it contains all the tedious clichés of the fire-based stage: timed plumes of flame, insta-death fire pits, yawn yawn yawn. It does also have some odd enemies, like the green flares-wearing robot pictured above and these chap(s).

Is that supposed to be one guy in a two-tone hazmat suit? Two people who accidentally climbed into the same hazmat suit? Conjoined twins? Whatever they are, they're best avoided rather than fought, as are most of the enemies from here on out. At least it's not a long stage.

Do you really want an honest answer to that question, Sabretooth?
Stage seven, and we're heading "Into the Fortress".

The fortress was apparently designed by a particularly flamboyant interior designer, and by flamboyant I mean blind. I have no what the giant yellow patterns on the walls are meant to represent, although their resemblance to dry pasta makes this stage feel like it's taking place inside some kind of child's craft project.
The level is mostly comprised of gun turrets and jumps over spike-pits, which makes it better than the last few levels because you don't have to fight anything. In fact, I did surprisingly well on this stage by throwing caution to the wind, just running and jumping though it with no regard for my health bar.

After a while it descends into one long spike-pit that you must cross using the tiny platforms. Sure it's dull, but at least it minimizes the orange/blue clash of the background. I've learned to be thankful for small mercies.
Right, that's the fortress infiltrated. Now it's time to defeat the evil Sabretooth!

Goddamnit Sabretooth you lazy sod, get back here and fight me. Why would Magneto even help Sabretooth? Has Sabretooth suddenly gained control of the world's supply of iron filings? Does he have compromising photographs of Magneto does something unspeakable with a fridge? Look, fine, whatever: I'll go and defeat Magneto.

Well, this stage is certainly busy. It's got a little of everything from the previous stages including, but not limited to, spike pits, conveyor belts, gun turrets, deadly floors and lots of platforms. It also sees the return of the featureless white humanoids (no, not Brendan Fraser), except this time some of them have grenade launcher that they hold in the manner of an 80's glam-metal guitarist.
The stage is a bit of a maze, but eventually you'll reach Magneto. And what a fearsome sight he is!

The X-Men's most famous foe, reduced to the level of hopeless lackey. You have to punch the forcefield at the bottom whilst avoiding the rocks he drops from his strange vending-machine contraption. Once the forcefield is down, you can get right up to him and settle his hash in the only way Wolverine knows how: with calm, reasoned debate. No of course not, he stabs him with his claws.

Once Magneto is defeated, you get a brief scene where Wolverine stands around with his fellow crime-fighting freaks Jubilee, Psylocke and Havok, wondering aloud where Sabretooth has gotten to.


Where the hell was he hiding? Inside Jubilee's coat? So much for Wolverine's super-keen sense of smell, although you wouldn't think you'd need enhanced olfactory capabilities to smell Sabretooth coming. So, the scene is set for the final battle, while no doubt somewhere just off camera Magneto is licking his wounds and wondering how it came to this.

For a hulking, semi-feral mutant warrior, Sabretooth sure likes prancing around. For the whole fight, all he does is bounce around like a ballerina with rubber legs and throw shurikens at you. What a colossal berk, although it's still a better strategy than Magneto's pitiful effort. It took me a while to figure out that you're not supposed to beat him in a toe-to-toe slugfest; instead, you have to lure him over to the right-hand-side of the screen, where you can punch him off a mountain. To be fair, that does sound like a very Wolverine way of dealing with the situation.
So, Sabretooth's defeated, and you've completed the game.

See that picture? That's the ending. The entire ending, apart from a bit of text that says "The end?". Well, I certainly feel rewarded and fulfilled.
I'm not sure how I feel about this Wolverine game. For a licensed game, it's really not that bad. Wolverine moves around quickly and smoothly, the graphics are decent and the music (although there are only a few tracks) is put together well and has some very nice drum samples. It feels like it could have been a really good game; perhaps if they'd concentrated on the more acrobatic element and minimized the fighting, or made the combat less rubbish. The strange lack of actual villains for you to fight doesn't help, either, because no-one is interested in beating up featureless white humanoids (no, not Hayden Christiansen) for the duration of a game set in a universe full of superpowered heroes.

All in all, I'd have to put Wolverine down as a missed opportunity. It could have been great, and it's still reasonably fun to play, but it's certainly not the best at what it does. Ha! I knew I'd get that in there somewhere.

CAPCOM'S GREATEST BEAT-EM-UP ANNOUNCERS

With this week seeing the release of Marvel vs. Capcom 3, it seems like a good time to travel back through the ages (or at least to 1997) to take in the aural delights of the finest announcers from Capcom's fighting games
Now, I know that there are some people out there who don't like a lot of these over-the-top, hot blooded, pulse-pumping announcers. Do you know why these people don't like them? Because they are hollow, soulless husks, so concerned with seeming "cool" that they hate anything that isn't dark and gritty. Oh okay, that's probably a little unfair: while there are people for whom these announcers just aren't cool enough, some people don't like them because they think they're irritating. I can understand that, because I've suffered through some truly irritating announcers myself. DJ Atomika from Burnout Paradise springs to mind; a constant, hectoring presence designed around some nebulous corporate idea of what's cool with the kids these days, combined with a weasly voice so smug that you want to punch the person that makes these sounds so hard in the throat that their larynx is reduced to the consistency of wallpaper paste. I think the difference is that, with Capcom's announcers, the level of cheese in their delivery is such that any notion of "coolness" or corporate slickness is blasted away, leaving only pure madness behind. They're oblivious to everything apart from hyping you up, and for that I salute them.
Anyway, without further ado: Let's Go Crazy!

Marvel Super Heroes vs. Street Fighter, 1997

First up is the maniacal MC from MSHvSF, as voiced by Tony Daniels. Daniels, not content with bellowing like a loon as MSHvSF's announcer, was also the voice of Gambit in the 1990's X-Men cartoon, a role he reprised in Capcom's various Marvel beat-em-ups. Yes, he's the guy who sounds like he's shouting "Credit Card!" when you're playing as Gambit in Marvel vs. Capcom 2.
Part of the reason I like his work here so much is that he sounds a little like Kevin Murphy of Mystery Science Theatre 3000 fame, especially at 2:29-34. Mostly though, it's the gusto with which he throws himself into his performance. When this man shouts "Look! Spectacular action!" you damn well will look. When he orders you to "feel sensational thrills!", sensational thrills had better course through your goddamn body like water rushing over Niagara Falls; I just hope he's never shouted it at a woman whilst on a date.
I love the way that, due to the way this video is ordered, when he gets to the K.O. countdown he starts off reading the numbers as though recording them is the single most important thing he will ever do with his life, but he loses interest faster than a seven-year-old at the opera until by number five he's checking his watch and wondering if X-Men: The Animated Series is going to be renewed for another season.
One thing, though: Choon Lee?

Capcom vs. SNK 2, 2001

Hiroaki Asai provides the commentary for CvS2, and what strange commentary it is. Obviously, English isn't Mr. Asai's first language, and his announcements are memorable mostly for the strange rhythm they're spoken in. Pauses where there should be no pauses, odd emphasises; it all adds up to narration that stays with you. When he says "I knew that Groove was in your heart", it sounds like he genuinely means it, and I'm grateful that he cares.
My favourite bit must be at around 3:08, when his delivery sounds most like he's reading from an autocue that's not updating quickly enough, and then he starts channelling Jerry Seinfeld. Actually, no, I've changed my mind. My favourite bit is "Here comes a new challenger. YOU MUST CRUSH THEM".

Marvel vs. Capcom, 1998

A female announcer for the first game in the Marvel vs. Capcom series, and her voice is provided by Sally Cahill. Mrs. Cahill is probably better known amongst gamers as the voice of Ada Wong from the Resident Evil series, and while Resident Evil is the bigger series, her work on Marvel vs. Capcom is what she should be remembered for. I have very fond memories of going on a school trip to London when I was a kid and seeing, for the first and only time, an MvC arcade machine. I threw in my coin and heard the glorious sound of Sally Cahill shouting "LET'S GO CRAZY" and I thought yes. Yes, I will Go Crazy. Crazy enough to play as a small, blue robot boy with a gun for an arm and fight against a hairy Canadian man with metal claws. So maybe it's a personal thing, my love of MvC's announcer, but all I know is that it always brings a smile to my face.
It's narration with a slightly different feel than the others in this article. Rather than the out-and-out madness of the other, it has more of clipped, sharp tone to it. Just listen to the disdain with which she says "here comes a new challenger" at 1:07. She thinks they're scum, this "new challenger", and if you don't wipe the floor them she will be disgusted with you.

Street Fighter Alpha 3, 1999

My absolute favourite, and pretty much the soundtrack to my teenage years. Greg Irwin provides the voice, and what a voice. Any pretence of coolness is not so much thrown out the window as it is fired out the window on a rocket powered by unicorn's screams. It's so over-the-top, so uninterested in concepts like restraint and decorum that it land squarely in "best thing ever" territory.
Half the things he's saying don't even make all that much sense. Phrases like "You have fists of God!" and "Can you march the way to glory?" hover around the line of complete nonsense, and they're all the better for it. His delivery occasionally lapses into "drunken hobo" mode, particularly at 2:03 when he shouts "AAAINT there somebody who can stop this fighting machine" and fills it with more changes in volume and pitch than an entire Rush album. I would love to know what direction Capcom gave him when he was recording his lines. "No Greg, it's not mental enough yet. Try it again, with more passion. Pretend it's a girl you've been stalking for six months and you're jumping out of the bushes to finally confess your shameful love to her."
To try and choose a favourite from all this magic seems a little pointless, but "Triumph or Die!" (0:38) is always a good way to get the blood pumping, particularly while being repeatedly slapped down by M. Bison and his bullshit Super Psycho Crusher. There's also his K.O. sound (0:48), one of the best victory announcements in videogames history. Opinion is still divided as to whether the KO from SFA3 was used in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World; I've listened to them both and I'm still not sure. If it isn't the exact SFA3 sound effect, then it's someone doing a damn good impersonation.

So there you go. Hopefully that's enough evidence to convince you that all announcers in beat-em-ups should be borderline psychotics with a loose grip on reality and an even looser grip on the English language. It'll be interesting to see if Marvel vs. Capcom 3's announcers will be fresh in our memories in ten year's time.

GREAT BOXING RUSH-UP / WORLD CHAMP

Boxing: the sweet science. Well, as sweet as a science dedicated to causing temporary unconsciousness in a fellow human by using your fists can be. Don't get me wrong, though: I am a boxing fan, which is why I'm going to take you back into the mists of time with Visco's 1990 squared-circle-'em-up Great Boxing - Rush Up! for the NES.

I've gotta say, with a title like that this game is off to a very good start. It fits in nicely with the vainglorious boasting of most professional boxers, that's for sure. Before you've even opened the box, the game is telling you straight out that this is great boxing: none of that rubbish stuff you get whenever Audley Harrison fights, just pure meaty chunks of pugilistic action. It was rather depressingly renamed World Champ for the markets outside Japan.

A shocking lack of effort, especially because it doesn't actually mention to which sport "World Champ" refers. It could be "World Champ" of nailing your eyelids to the wall (sadly yet to be recognised as an Olympic event) for all you know. Okay, so I'm exaggerating - the boxart does quite clearly feature two large men punching each other, and the title screen goes some way to redeeming the drabness of the World Champ title by including the tagline "Super Boxing Great Fight" which is a nice, solid bit of Engrish to start the day off right. Even so, I'll be sticking with the Japanese version for one main reason that will become apparent later.

So, once you've started the game, you can choose between the various game modes: there's a two-player vs mode, a tournament mode where up to eight players can join in, and the career mode, which makes up the meat of the game. The career mode screen is pictured above. That's you on the left, trying to looking tough despite your receding hairline and bizarrely-shaped mouth. Look at it, squashed up there so close to his nose that he could lick his own brain: I'm not sure if he's supposed to have very large lips or a very small goatee. My brain can't quite seen to latch on to one interpretation or the other, like I'm halfway through a particularly difficult Magic Eye picture.
As you can see, the top-right of the screen is taken up with the training. Yes, unlike Punch-Out!! and pretty much every boxing game of this time, you can train your little fighter up until his style is impetuous and his defences impregnable. Simply pick the attribute you want to increase, press start and your sparring session begins.

The training consists of a fight between you and the lowest-ranked member of your current weight division. The sparring sessions work in exactly the same way as an actual fight, except your opponent is a much more willing sandbag than usual.
With the obvious limitations of the NES pad, the controls are very simple. You get one button to float like a butterfly and the other to sting like a bee, and the control pad moves you around the ring. If you press the dodge button just as your opponent throws a punch, you'll (hopefully) either block it or weave out of the way. Pressing the other button throws a punch, the type of which can be modified by holding the D-pad: up for uppercuts, down for body blows and left or right for straights.

The gameplay, it has to be said, is very basic. You have to hit your opponent and then mash attack, hoping your combo holds them in place long enough for you to pummel their face in, making it in essence an 8-bit version of Rock'Em Sock'Em Robots. I find it helps if I pretend that every time I press punch, a strong electrical current is fed into Piers Morgan's body via a randomly-selected orifice. It really is amazing what a bit of positive thinking can do to relieve thumb fatigue. While it might sound basic to the point of boredom, the gameplay offers more entertainment than you might think, just like, well, Rock'Em Sock'Em Robots. Most of the challenge comes from trying to move your boxer into the right position and judging when your combo is going to stop so you can try and get out of the way. The rest of the challenge comes from summoning the patience to accomplish the roughly four thousand hours of training required to get your boxer's stats high enough to take on some actual fighters.

Once you're sufficiently bored of the training, it's time for the big fight. Your first opponent is J Mollino, a pasty, sunken-eyed journeyman. He at least has a mouth positioned roughly where a human mouth should be, but hopefully you're going to be changing that. Before the fight, and between each round, GBRU lets you choose which punches you want to make more powerful by assigning you stat points for "punch" to them.

Personally, I always put it all into straight and then back away slowly whenever I get a combo going. It's not cowardice, it's called outboxing. The fighters also have two bars measuring their progress in the fight: one is a standard stamina bar that decreases as you throw punches and have your brain rattled against the inside of your skull by your opponent's attacks, and the other is a "spirit" bar that fills up when you successfully land punches. On the spirit bar is full the next hit will knock your opponent down, so try and keep those combos going and then put them on the canvas.

With his quiff and white t-shirt, the referee looks more like a cast member from Grease than someone officiating at a sporting event. I like the detail in fallen boxer's face, where in a handful of pixels they have really captured the anguished expression of a man with three broken ribs and a detached retina trying to stand up. Nice work there, Visco.

Eventually, you'll win the fight and your little proto-champion will no doubt be recording an interview at ringside and thanking Jesus for giving him the strength to beat another man into a coma like boxers so often do. You get a few extra stat points, move up a place in the rankings... and that's really all there is to it. Like real boxing, it's a relentless struggle to stay at peak physical fitness whilst beating everyone ahead of you in the rankings. Beat the five fighters in each class to move up to the next weight division until you've completed a Manny Pacaquiao-esque domination of the boxing world.
But who are the men standing in the way of your glory? Well, here's the reason I decided to stick with the Japanese version of GBRU, rather than playing World Champ. In World Champ, the boxers all have vaguely humourous names like Action Jim, Money Man and Jumbo Joe.

Despite his name, Jumbo Joe is the same size as all the other boxers. You lied to me, Jumbo Joe. How will I ever learn to trust again? However, things are a little different in GBRU. Let's take a look at some of your opponents from the Japanese version, shall we?

Well well, who do we have here? Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran, Marvin Hagler, Tommy Hearns, Evander Holyfield and George Foreman? Almost certainly, although Hearns and Foreman are looking a little... pale, and by pale I mean caucasian. Maybe that's actually Tommy Hearns' long-lost German relative Tomas Hearnz. As ever, the Japanese aren't afraid to include thinly-veiled duplicates of actual people in their videogames, and they're much more interesting than the likes of Jumbo Joe. The higher up the weight classes you go, the more famous the boxers become, until you're left with only one opponent, the champion of the heavyweight division. Care to take a guess who it might be? Bearing in mind that this is a boxing game from 1990, there's really only one candidate.

Yes of course, it's Mike Tyson, or possible his alternate-universe double Mark Tysan. In World Champ he's rather boringly called Hard Head.

While a hard head is undoubtably a useful attribute for a boxer to have, it's not as interesting as fighting Iron Mike, so GBRU wins out over its American counterpart. Iron Mike has maximum stats in all departments, but of course he still hits harder than you even if you also have maximum stats. If you have put in the requisite grind to reach 99 in all stats, the fight isn't all that tough as long as you manage to stay away from Tyson. A few combos and he'll go down.

Yeah, how d'ya like that! Not so tough now, huh? Wait, what are you doing with your face?

Oh I see, you're practising the great British tradition of gurning, as demonstrated here by a man old enough to have seen Mozart live in concert:

Terrifying, but it doesn't help him any and the World Championship belt is yours. Hoorah! You win a trophy and a pair of oversized novelty chess pieces.

After that, you get a couple of screens of congratulatory text telling you that your sublime skill in punching guys in the head has left the world of boxing changed forever. Aww. Sadly, the ending text is all in perfectly comprehensible English with nary a mistranslated sentence to been seen, robbing me of a heaping bowlful of Engrish and leaving me to wonder what the point of playing this game for so long was. Ho hum. At least it's nice to see that the programmers were fans of '80s glam-metal. How do I know? Because there are some rather odd inclusions in the "special thanks" section of the credits.

Alice Cooper and members of Hanoi Rocks and Motley Crue get a namecheck, which is sort of sweet. I can just imagine the developers beavering away somewhere in an office in Japan, programming a fake Mike Tyson while softly banging their heads or air-drumming along to "Poison" or "Kickstart my Heart". It's a nice thought.

And there you have Great Boxing Rush Up. All things considered, it's not a bad little boxing game provided you have the patience to train your boxer plenty. It's never going to take Punch-Out!!s belt as the best NES boxing game, but it's definitely a contender. Okay, I'm going to stop with the boxing analogies now. Plus, it's got a fake Mike Tyson in it, and what more could you ask for than that? I think I might create a Wikipedia page: unlicensed Mike Tyson likenesses in videogames. I suspect it would be longer than you'd think.