Reflecting on the launch day of the Nintendo DS.
As you age, most days blend into an endless soup of daily routines, family obligations, work, sleep, and deciding what to eat for dinner.
It’s easier to recall significant days, of course—those moments when a global or national event plants a flag in your subconscious. But as you grow older, the others become a blur. That’s why being an enthusiast of video games and gaming technology is so much fun. Console launches are important moments to savour and often days to remember.
And that’s why I can tell you that, at precisely 1:30 p.m. on March 11, 2005, I was sitting in a toilet cubicle playing Super Mario 64 DS.
With Nintendo consoles, there’s never a guarantee that any particular system will succeed. Each wild concept – be it a dual-screened handheld, motion controls, a chunky controller with a screen, or a hybrid system – could be a winner or a flop. But on launch day, a system’s story is yet to be written. It’s a moment of potential and anticipation. Is this new device the next big thing, or is it a dud?
Even Nintendo was hedging its bets with the launch of the Nintendo DS, pitching it as a “third pillar” to stand alongside its home console business and venerable Game Boy brand. On the horizon, the eye-watering glow of the PlayStation Portable seemed certain to shake up the handheld gaming landscape with incredible horsepower. In contrast, the DS seemed odd, quirky, and almost indecipherable compared to traditional handheld game systems.
Even the usually supportive Edge magazine was dubious, reprinting spoof console concepts that poked fun at Nintendo’s “more screens are better” approach.
Maybe the DS would flop, I thought, but if it lived up to its promise of offering new gameplay experiences – a “new way to play,” as Nintendo called it – it was worth a look. So I decided to be there on day one, which was March 11, 2005, in the UK.
At the time, I worked in the marketing department of a recruitment company in west London. It was a fun enough job with a friendly enough team, but none of my co-workers had ever expressed the slightest interest in video games. More to the point, they thought it was nerd shit. The hype was real, but only for me. Nintendo DS launch day would be enjoyed alone.
A month prior to its release, I pre-ordered a Nintendo DS along with Super Mario 64 DS and WarioWare: Touched! from the UK retailer Game.
Game was the leading dedicated video game store of the time, not that there was much competition. Shopping there was a typically miserable experience, and Nintendo DS launch day was no exception. I popped in during my lunch break to pick up my pre-order, full of anticipation and ready to embrace a new way to play. Ready to touch.
As usual, this particular branch’s staff didn’t disappoint.
“Nintendo is sunk. Good luck with this!” the clod at the register muttered as he processed my transaction and peddled exorbitantly priced device insurance.
I’m sure Game head office would have been delighted with his positive approach to customer service. (For the record, I never needed the device insurance, and the Nintendo DS system I bought that day still works, and even held a charge after 10 years in storage.)
I suppose I understand the scepticism. Compared to the PSP, the Nintendo DS wasn’t underpowered exactly, but it certainly wasn’t cutting edge by the usual metrics of console performance. As it turned out, there was room for both devices, which offered distinct experiences.
Back at the office, and safely ensconced in that toilet cubicle for complete nerd privacy, I unboxed the Nintendo DS and inserted Super Mario 64 DS. I was immediately amazed by the 3D graphics. Sure, the PSP had the DS beat in terms of pure power, but this was the first time I’d seen a handheld display this level of visual fidelity with my own eyes. I explored Peach’s Castle, experimenting with the stylus and thumb-strap controller. It was intriguing, but was this really the future of gaming?
Then I tried a few mini-games, including Bob-omb Squad, Bounce and Pounce, and Mario’s Slides. Despite their status as bonus content, that’s when the magic of the Nintendo DS clicked. As I pulled a catapult down towards the bottom of the screen to launch a Bob-omb , I’d never before felt such a tangible connection between an input and the screen. It was almost as if I was reaching into the game. As it turned out, two screens were cool, but it was the touch capability that really made the difference.
In retrospect, Super Mario 64 DS‘s generous suite of Rec-Room mini-games had a quietly significant influence. They not only pointed the way for Nintendo’s subsequent work on the Wii but also foreshadowed the early wave of smartphone games that arrived at the end of the decade. In the age of pinching, swiping, and scrolling, it feels naive to be so excited about such simple interactions, but 20 years ago, they were transformative.
Over the next few years, the Nintendo DS’s touchscreen was used in numerous ways. We could pet dogs, solve equations, swipe swords, annotate maps, play instruments, and draw paths for Kirby to follow. Such wonderful invention. Sadly, as the language of screen interactions has evolved, some of that wonder has been lost. Touchscreen experiences are now primarily focused on speed and navigation, whereas those early days of the Nintendo DS were all about forging a frictionless connection between the player and the action.
Being an early adopter of video game consoles doesn’t always pay off, but with the Nintendo DS, it did. At 1:30 p.m. on March 11, 2005, I touched the future. And even though I was sitting in a toilet cubicle, it was a day to remember.
