Brett Hull Hockey 95


Brett Hull Hockey reminds me of a simpler time, you know?

Maybe it’s just me, but I remember cracking open fresh packs of hockey cards on many brisk 1992 Saturday mornings, after running with my 2-dollars-a-week allowance to the Becker’s down the street and purchasing a pack of NHL Pro Set Series I or II cards (I hear they’re worthless now, but that was never why I collected them).

I guess this game takes me back to that place and that time where I didn’t know anything about salaries and there was no fantasy hockey and points didn’t matter and it was all about watching the game. When’s the last time you watched a game, any game, and didn’t have statistics floating around in your head, making you infer what each play might be? Baseball was ruined even further by this, but it’s present in hockey too. My hockey hero as a kid in the early 90s, Wendel Clark, never put up more than 40 points a year while I was that age. But when you watched that guy play, he was so aggressive, so hungry, that you couldn’t help but be energized by his play. Those guys certainly still exist (although they’re usually really young and relegated to the fourth line), and while I still like watching these energy/checking line dudes, it doesn’t fill me with the same wonder that it did as a kid.


A lot of stuff was simpler back then, really. There was no Internet. You had the games you had and you liked ’em. If you didn’t, you borrowed from friends or had sleepovers. Whatever, I’m getting crotchety and old now. I’ll cut myself off. What I’m trying to say is that the Internet killed the mass-produced trading cards with Franklin Antiqua fonts and I’m mad about it (So I will blog about it, apparently. It’s like going on Rikki Lake to say that TV ruined your life). Originally I was going to talk about the weird 3/4 perspective in this game, and the even weirder old guy with greasy hair who POINTS at your coaching resource allocations with his HAND, in effect being a living cursor, but what’s the point? You don’t care about that. I don’t care either. I do, however, care about a bygone era where kids had artifacts other than the ones you see in poorly-encoded Youtube videos.

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