Christmas morning, 1990. I was still half-asleep, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional creak of floorboards as my parents stirred. But once I saw the stack of gifts under the tree, I was wide awake. I tore through wrapping paper like a kid possessed, and there it was…one of the most exciting things a kid could find in that era: a brand-new Nintendo cartridge…RollerGames!
Now, I’d seen the ads for it in comic books…those bold, over-the-top spreads that promised danger, action, and high-speed skating combat. The artwork was loud and wild, with blurbs like “Karate Creeps!” and “Combat Copters!” that made it sound like the game was going to be a cross between Double Dragon and Mad Max on wheels. But then there were the less thrilling threats: “Open Manholes!” and “Vicious Dogs!” Not exactly the stuff of legend, but hey, I was sold.
I was a big fan of the Rollergames TV show before it vanished from the airwaves. It was roller derby turned up to eleven, with teams racing around a figure-eight track, dodging obstacles, and occasionally leaping over alligators. It was absurd, theatrical, and completely captivating. So when I saw that Konami had made a game based on it, I figured I was in for a wild ride.
But the game wasn’t quite what I expected.
Instead of a roller derby simulator, Rollergames turned out to be a side-scrolling beat-’em-up with a skating twist. You picked one of three characters: a girl from Hot Flash, a guy from The Rockers, or the legendary “IceBox” Robert Smith from the L.A. T-Birds. Each had their own vibe, and the game kept the heel team managers as level bosses, which was a nice nod to the show. But the gameplay? That was something else.
The skating mechanic added a layer of difficulty I hadn’t seen before. You couldn’t just land a jump and stop…you had momentum. You had to react instantly, or you’d slide right into a pit or enemy. It made timing everything. And when the game threw multiple jumps at you in rapid succession, it felt like a test of reflexes and nerves. I remember gripping that rectangular controller like it was a lifeline, trying to master the rhythm of skating, jumping, and punching all at once.
The graphics were solid for the time. The broken highway level, in particular, looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic comic book. The music had that classic Konami energy…catchy, intense, and just a little bit weird. And while it didn’t deliver the full chaos of the TV show (no alligators, sadly), it had its own charm.
I spent most of that Christmas day glued to the TV, working my way through levels, learning enemy patterns, and trying to beat the game before bedtime. I didn’t succeed, but I didn’t care. That cartridge became part of my regular rotation, right alongside Contra, Double Dribble, and Castlevania II. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. And it came wrapped in the magic of Christmas morning.
Looking back, Rollergames was one of those games that didn’t quite live up to its advertising but it still managed to carve out a place in my heart. It was a product of its time, a strange blend of pop culture and pixelated ambition. And every time I see that comic book ad now, I’m transported back to that morning in 1990, sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, controller in hand, ready to skate into battle.
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