World Soccer, (Sega) 1987

My mate Martin and his older brother Darren loved video games and video game consoles. The spare room in their house was like an Aladdin's Cave of computer-based entertainment, and I loved paying them a visit every weekend just to wallow in the splendour of it all.

Their shelves were packed with title after title - good, bad and downright peculiar - and yet strangely only one in particular has stuck in my mind after more than 25 years: World Soccer for the Sega Master System.

There's no reason why it remains so memorable with me other than the fact that the cartridge case was often displayed front-on rather than showing only the spine.

That minimalist cover with the grid and a cartoon-style leg obviously had enduring qualities in the way no manufacturer would dare emulate nowadays. I don't even remember playing the game either, although it's entirely possible that I did. Certainly the evidence that YouTube provides has stirred one or two long-dormant memories in the back of my mind.

So what about the game itself? Essentially this was arcade fare - bright, zingy colours, low resolution and squeaky synthesised music, but par for the course back in 1987. On boot-up, a cheery title screen preceded the playing options which offered the choice of either a regular game of football or a penalty shoot-out competition.

Choosing the former prompted a further screen in which you chose the nationality of your own team and that of your opponent. There were eight countries to choose from covering a wide range of credibility, depending on your viewpoint. Alongside the international heavyweights of Brazil, France, Italy, Argentina and West Germany were the USA and Japan (neither of whom had made any real impact on the World Cup at that point) and Great Britain, a team that didn't actually exist in football terms.

No matter. By selecting the two countries desired, you were treated to a Casio-keyboard rendition of the anthems for both - a nice touch, and one that certainly showed the attention to detail that the team strips lacked. West Germany in yellow shirts?

With the teams picked, it was on with the action as the two sets of six small players ran onto the pitch. The roar of the crowd was as confusing as it was loud. If you've ever held a rolled up newspaper to your ear and listened to a toilet flushing, you'll probably get fairly close to the sound that greeted the teams' arrival.

Once the game was under way, the players scurried around in an appealing fashion, chasing a nicely animated ball that give a simple depiction of rotation and movement. Unfortunately the bounce of the ball was so minimal that you'd have been forgiven for thinking it was filled with concrete. On the positive side, however, it was unlikely you'd have kicked the ball into touch, no matter how hard you'd kicked it.

Unlike the games of today, there weren't many special moves that the players could make other than dribbling, passing, shooting and slide tackling, but there was the possibility of executing an overhead kick in front of goal if you'd timed it right and if you were optimistic enough to think you could score from it.

If you did score, however, the crowd went wild!

(Sorry - 'a bunch of kaleidoscopic ants behind the goal did the lambada.' Well, it amounted to the same thing, really.)

You'd also get to see a digital scoreboard showing the current tallies for both sides, and just as well because the score didn't appear permanently on-screen during the match. The provision of double figures to display both teams' scores was rather redundant too, as the close interplay on the pitch was hardly likely to see one team score ten or more.

Upon completion of a game, there was a lovely little sequence showing a member of the winning team joyfully holding the World Cup trophy aloft while one of the losing team walked up to offer a gentlemanly handshake.

Drawn games were decided by a penalty shoot-out competition, but if you couldn't engineer the score to suit your needs, you could also play the penalties in isolation via the main menu screen. The same setup applied - pick two teams, enjoy the national anthems for as long as you could stand them, then try to plant the ball past the opposition goalkeeper more times than they did it to you.



In this instance we saw the players in all their full-size glory as you controlled either the kick taker or the goalkeeper. Again there was some nice (if basic) animation sequences in which the kicker was seen either sinking to his knees when his shot didn't go in or elatedly doing star jumps when they did.

And that was about it, really. All in all, World Soccer offered simple, easy fun. It wasn't perfect, that's for sure; the pace of the game could've been a little quicker and the ball ought to have rolled and bounced more than it did, but the graphics were vivid and the game was easy to play.

We therefore doff our hat to the imperfect qualities of World Soccer - a good arcade football game that used its charm to win you over in the end.

Check out our other football video game reviews:

• Super Action Soccer (1984)
• NASL Soccer (1979)
• Nintendo World Cup (1990)
• Pelé's Soccer (1980)
• Striker (1992)
• Football Manager (1982)

Super Action Soccer, 1984

The Colecovision games console was much prized for its near-perfect arcade titles back in the early-1980s. With games like Donkey Kong Jr, Zaxxon and Q*Bert, you could be entertained by great graphics and top sounds in your own home just like the coin-operated classics.

Unfortunately when Super Action Soccer was published in 1984, little of that quality seemed to remain. Oh sure, the graphics were better than we’d seen in other games on other consoles... but only just.

Having booted up your Super Action Soccer cartridge (I wonder why it was never known as ‘SAS’, by the way?) you were quickly greeted by the sight of two teams lined up and ready to play. The players, for their part, looked like the symbols off a Gents toilet door - one team coloured light blue, the other in a shade of yellow we shall henceforth refer to as ‘Smoker’s handkerchief.’

As a quirky, digitised version of ‘March of the Toreadors’ from Bizet’s ‘Carmen’ plays out, our competitors take their positions and stand, frankly, like a bunch of camp convicts ligging around a prison courtyard. Luckily one isn't too distracted by that when play gets underway and we get to see the player animations which are quite smooth for their age. Even the ball has a shadow when it rises into the air - a nice touch, even if the bounce of the ball is a little unnatural.

From time to time, when the game deems fit, we're treated to a close-up of the action involving the player on the ball and his opposite number. These little cameos appear on the left of the screen and reveal a little more detail about the kits of the two teams. Sadly the white/yellow and blue/white teams were the only ones seen during every game, but it was reassuring to know that they were wearing contrasting coloured shorts when you saw them close up.

In a future echo of games such as Kick Off and Sensible Soccer, Super Action Soccer also offers a top-down map of the pitch showing where your players were during ‘close-up’ mode. There's also a basic clock that twitches nervously along with the match score to keep you fully briefed too.

Looking back at the left of the screen, however, there are good points and bad points to observe. On the plus side, we see tufts of grass rushing past while the players are running which helps to emphasise the feeling of movement. On the downside, our players seem to run with their shoulders hunched up around their ears as if they've left the coat-hangers in the back of their shirts.

Atmosphere-wise, there’s a constant hum from the crowd to accompany the gameplay and though it sounds like the interference you’d get on an old radio, it works well enough along with the other token blips and bleeps.

And it’s those basic sound effects that come into their own when some goalmouth action occurs. Here we get a full screen experience without twitching clocks or scoreboards. We get to see the goalkeeper shuffling around nervously in his goalmouth and, if you’re lucky, a striker ambling into the penalty area to unleash a shot. Once the ball’s left the striker’s foot and heading goalwards, there are a few breathless moments when the goalkeeper’s reaction is anticipated... but sadly it often ends with the goalie diving too early and allowing the ball to breeze past him.

If it’s any consolation, at least you get to see the net rippling when a goal’s scored. It’s just a shame there weren't a few more of those charming little effects in this game as it probably could have done with them. Super Action Soccer (renamed ‘Super Action Football’ for the European market) might have looked an exciting proposition back in the mid-80’s, but in reality it lacked any real zip or excitement. And all that on the console that brought us Donkey Kong Jr too. What a shame...

NASL Soccer (1979)

There is, in my view, a curious ratio that applies when you’re a child. It states that no matter how good the Christmas presents are that you receive, you will always be envious of those your friends received. This was the case back in the early 1980’s when I, as the grateful owner of a Sinclair ZX Spectrum, paid a visit to the home of my schoolmate, Trevor. At some point in my stay, he unveiled the prize offering from his festive haul – an Intellivision video game system. No contest.

The Atari 2600 console seemed to have been and gone by the time Intellivision arrived in the UK. Intellivision seemed incredibly modern and comprehensive by comparison. True, we still had a token piece of wood panelling to provide a supposed touch of class, but the Mattel-made system had strange hand-held controllers like telephone handsets connected to their mothership via a curly cord. Strange stuff indeed.

The allure of an Intellivision system seemed almost too much to bear for my 11-year-old self. All those amazing games I could play like Zaxxon and Donkey Kong… Sadly I never got to own either, but at least now at the ripe old age of 41 I can console myself (sorry) with the thought that these are now considered two of the worst games ever made for the Intellivision. Had I owned the console, however, there was one other game I may have been tempted to purchase: NASL Soccer.

Released in 1979 (at the peak of the North American Soccer League’s popularity), we see an ambitious attempt to portray the game using the side-on view - always a challenge for games makers everywhere. Everything appears to be in order, and impressively so at first sight: two teams, one in yellow, the other in magenta, both featuring players with clearly delineated heads, chests, legs and feet. Though we’re never in danger of seeing an actual kit design, this is obviously easier on the eye and more realistic than, say, Atari’s Pelé's Soccer.

As with that game, both sides have three outfield players and a goalkeeper, but here the players can move independently on the pitch. The players nearest the ball are indicated in different colours (orange for the yellow team, blue for the magenta team) and the colours are similarly applied to the scores shown intermittently at the top of the screen. Even the ball has a pixelated Adidas Telstar look to it, despite looking distinctly non-spherical.

All in all, one might say ‘so far so good.’ Unfortunately the game falls down when you try to play it, which is unfortunate to say the least. To begin, the act of kicking the ball sends it into an interminable roll which can only be stopped when another play gets in the way of it. Furthermore, the ball never actually leaves the ground which, if nothing else, should appeal to the anti-Sam Allardyce contingent amongst you.


When the ball does gain enough momentum to cover a long distance without stopping, the screen pans to follow it. A tick in the box for emulating real TV coverage there, but curiously the players that scroll off the side of the screen at the time re-emerge on the other side so as not to be lost in gameplay. A tricky one to get your head round if you plan to send a 60-yard pass down the wing to find your star striker upfield.

Being a soccer title of American origin, the gameplay instructions are wonderfully worded. On the subject of scoring a goal, we’re told: "Your opponent can only move his goalie in lunges' between goal posts. Move quickly to fake him out." For 'lunges' read 'dives' and for 'fake him out' read 'send him the wrong way.' And if the ball goes in? "IT’S A SCORE! Your score increases by one point…" How very helpful.

Perhaps the most inflexible aspect of this game is that it was made for two players only. Not that that was a technical limitation – the Intellivision system had two controllers after all – but without a fellow human to play the game with, the team in magenta would remain motionless throughout. A digitised Aston Villa, if you will.

A bit of a shame really as this wasn’t such a bad game to play back in the day. The players were a bit slow to manoeuvre but it was simple enough really. Sadly you get the impression that this lacked some of the razzmatazz that the NASL seemed to embody and for that reason this has become an overlooked video game through the passage of time. Still and all, it deserves to enter the Football Attic video game archive, taking its place early on the developmental curve that ultimately brought us Pro Evolution Soccer and the FIFA series.

Nintendo World Cup, 1990

We're delighted to say that Matthew Wassell is back in the Attic, and this time he's reliving a football computer game in glorious technicolour...

With it being yet another snowy afternoon in deepest Norfolk, my thoughts turn to the joys and heat of summer and in particular, the World Cup. Released in 1990 for the NES and Game Boy, Nintendo World Cup aimed to bring the excitement and glamour of the world’s most popular football tournament to the monochrome, handheld screen and having received it as a present from my grandmother 22 years and five World Cups ago, I've decided to try it out once more but this time on my trusty and significantly more modern, Gameboy Advance SP.

Predictably, the 1-player game consists of guiding your team to glory by winning the gleaming trophy, so obviously the first task is to pick your squad and you have thirteen (bizarrely!) nations to choose from, including many of the usual suspects, such as France, Spain, England, Italy, Brazil and Argentina, through to the never-to-be-seen again USSR and popular game selling countries such as the USA and Japan.

Before the match can begin, however, there are a few tactical decisions to make. The game is a 6-a-side affair but there are no FIFA-style licences here so each player is defined solely by a single, Brazilian style forename for their country (picking the USSR for the novelty factor, my players included Pyotr, Pavel and my favourite, Boris).

Attacking strategy consists of either passing the ball or to “use dribble” as Nintendo World Cup puts it. I opt for the former, mainly because the team has only one midfielder and I don’t want any fancy ball-playing from him whilst I toil up front! Finally, the game then asks whether my team mates should shoot – either frequently or not at all. Not being a complete ego-maniac, I graciously allow my team mates to get in on the act and shoot for themselves.

For my first match, I'm drawn against the might of 1990's Cameroon. In Gameboy Advance SP colour, the graphics are generally more than acceptable with white line markings set out nicely against a two-tone green pitch (although there are other surfaces such as Dirt and Ice to pick from). The downside, though, is that both teams are made up of very pink, very chunky players who look more inclined to enjoy a good punch-up in a pub car park than a football match. And one of those players is me!

Yes, for unlike a lot of football games old and new, you control just the one player whilst the Game Boy controls the others. This can take a bit of getting used to and in my first game, I spend most of my time attempting to control the other players, not realising that virtual me is in fact running into a corner flag for 90% of the match. By pressing either the A or B buttons though, you can order your players to pass, tackle or shoot depending on the circumstances, giving you a bit of control. They usually obey, but getting your one player into position to receive a pass, for example, can be the hardest thing and often the ball will be simply crossed from one side of the pitch to the other over your head repeatedly, like a game of piggy in the middle!

There are no offsides and no fouls either, which just adds to the sense that this isn't so much a football match as a Royal Rumble in disguise. Players can be tackled, shoved and knocked out with a particularly hard shot on goal so it’s not for the faint hearted. Ah, but it harks back to a time when men were men! Each team also has five super shots that, as well as decimating any opposition player in their way, are particularly difficult for the goalkeeper to stop, usually resulting in a goal. In fact, this is pretty much the only way I can score.

Whilst the gameplay isn't too bad and I do recommend Nintendo World Cup generally for any retro fans, without doubt the worst aspect has to be the music. From the minute it loads, a pseudo 8-bit rock number begins and can only be silenced by turning down the volume on the Game Boy completely (unless I’ve missed a setting somewhere). It gets immensely annoying and only after one half of the first match at that! It’s a shame because there are some decent whistle, player and crowd effects to be heard deep beneath the dreadful tunes.

I lose to Cameroon. The dream is over. But as with all football games, another tournament is just around the corner, though perhaps this time I’ll ask my players to dribble more and never shoot. That must have been the problem! There is also a 2-player VS option but as that can only be played with another Game Boy linked up via a cable, it looks like I’ll be playing Cameroon until I either eventually beat them or throw the game out of the window... the music made me do it, honestly!

 

While you're trying to work out whether to believe him or not, let us pass on our thanks once again to Matthew for his latest post and if you want to read more of Matthew's reminiscences, follow the links below.

Meantime, if you recall a special football computer game that occupied much of your time when you were younger, why not write about it and send your words to us like Matthew did? Just drop us a line to admin [at] thefootballattic [dot] com and we'll do the rest!

Other posts by Matthew Wassell:

• Matthew Wassell's Top 5... Pogs
• Matthew Wassell's Top 5 International 'Do you remember when?' Moments of the 1990's

Pelé's Soccer, 1980

At what point does the human brain reject the hopelessly inadequate images of our youth and demand something with more detail and clarity?

This question is most apposite when discussing classic video games. Take Pelé's Soccer, for example. Here was an arcade football game created for the Atari 2600 which should have proved that technology had moved on from the days of ‘pong football’. The reality, however, saw you moving players around on your screen that looked like pixelated blobs. Quite honestly, they could have been anything.

Yet back in 1980 when this game was released, your brain would have probably overlayed a thick veneer of imagination to make your three outfield players look like a top-down version of the real thing. It would have also ignored the fact that your players were locked in an invisible triangular force field, never able to break free of their 1-3-0 formation. Wherever the ball was kicked, you could be sure there was someone from your team nearby to pick it up.

And what about that ball? It was a rectangle, for heaven’s sake, but did anyone ever question it?  No, because if Pelé played with a ball that wasn't round, it was good enough for us too.

How easily impressed we must have been back then, but here’s the rub. Those blocky players actually appeared to move as they ran. Their feet poked out with every stride, and when one kicked the ball, a big rectangular foot protruded to make contact with it. These players were ANIMATED. We weren't deluded - we were ENTHRALLED.

Oh sure, the teams could only play in orange or blue, but think of the plus points. There was no need to waste time when the ball went out of play, because it couldn't go out of play. You were effectively playing on a walled five-a-side pitch. And when you scored a goal, an impromptu firework display went off. You don't get that in FIFA 13.

By now, the cynics amongst you might be asking whether Pelé actually appeared in the game in any way. The short and rather disappointing answer is 'No', but he did at least make an appearance on a Brazilian TV advert for the game. If you're not impressed by that, the UK TV equivalent featured Morecambe and Wise partnering Trevor Brooking. You wouldn't get Ant and Dec advertising a video game system.

All in all, then, Pelé's Soccer did that thing that all classic computer games do, namely use very limited resources and simple execution to create the sort of addictive gameplay that would occupy you for hours. Add a little of your own imagination, and you had the perfect video football game.

Shame about that ball, though.

STRIKER: Raging Against The Machine

Today we welcome Terry Duffelen from The Sound of Football podcast and Bundesliga Lounge who today brings us a wonderful guest post all about his favourite footy video game...

Steve Earle’s Copperhead Road, Socialist Worker, Ernest Hemmingway’s Men Without Women, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Lethal Weapon Pinball, Selhurst Park, Guinness and Super Nintendo (SNES). If you were to evacuate my conscious mind in the early Nineties and reassemble its elements as some grotesque Mental Pinterest then those fragments of ephemera are what would be displayed. But if I were to place an extra large pin on one of those elements to give it extra significance it would be the Guinness. However, I’ve not been asked to write about Guinness. I’ve been asked to write about an old video game, so for the purposes of this tortured preamble, I’ll say it would be my SNES.

Purchased from the Virgin Megastore in Tottenham Court Road, the Super Nintendo Entertainment System introduced me to NHL Ice Hockey, the glory of World League Basketball (NCAA for readers in the US) and the worst Rugby video game in the history of all games ever created (everyone knows time is not up until the ball goes dead. EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!)

Then of course, there was the king of all football video games, the timeless classic: Sensible Soccer.  However, SS looked stupid with its plan view pin pricks for players, stupid sound effects and rubbish player names (who the fuck is Alan Shiarer?)  After a week I’d decided that this was a game for people who took this sort of thing far more seriously than me and took up STRIKER instead.

The first thing to say about STRIKER was that it was produced by a company called RAGE Software. For angry Trotskyite class warriors, as I claimed to be at the time, anything produced by something called RAGE was brilliant. RAGE was a force for good. RAGE made a difference. RAGE would kick the Tories out. RAGE would smash the State and end injustice. Whatever else you can say about the name RAGE, it was ideologically sound.

The next thing to say about STRIKER is the gameplay which had an agreeable 45-degree view, sticky balls (if you’ve played Kick Off or listened to the latest Attic Podcast then you’ll know what I mean) and crunching tackles. If there was a normal tackle button, I never pressed it. The sliding tackle was designed to clean out the opposition player and emerge with the ball at your feet. The action generated a satisfying squelchy slippy noise which elicited a feeling of great and surprisingly wholesome satisfaction. There was no commentator (thank Christ!) but whenever something extra cool happened an electric scoreboard would pop up with encouraging exclamations like “OFF THE BAR!” and “WHAT A TACKLE!” and “PENALTY!” and “GOAL!!!”

The games were accompanied by an “authentic” crowd noise which responded to the shifting patterns of play and had a curious reverb that was a little freaky when you played the game on your own. However, when the ball hit the back of the net the crowd would go wild and once you’d figured out how to strike the ball with the correct amount of backspin, straight in front of goal and from just outside the area that net took one hell of a beating.

Having found the game's weakness, I took Palace to League and Cup glory. England won the World Cup averaging nine goals a game. The game had customisable kits and clubs but I didn’t go in for that. I was only interested in the glory of pummelling Arsenal and beating the Germans 9–0.

Football game purists will be spinning in their graves (especially the alive ones) to read this but what made STRIKER so appealing was that it was easy and conveyed a sense authenticity without being authentic. It had an indoor training mode where the players' trainers squeaked which may have been a first for non basketball games. Granted, STRIKER was not as clever as Sensi Soccer but it made you feel a lot better about yourself when you played it. Like left wing politics, STRIKER kept it real and had easy answers. Sensi Soccer, where the basic graphics disguised the realistic game play and advanced engine was more suited to working class Tories for whom, all suffering is necessary. Neither game was entirely healthy and if you’re still playing either today, stop.

But the final thing to say about STRIKER is the theme tune. This game's release coincided with the birth of the FA Premier League. Football. Football was entering its modern era and much of the old game was being swept aside for all-seater stadia, satellite TV, Richard Keys and high ticket prices. The one link to our past was Match of the Day and Barry Stoller's classic theme tune which was played at Agincourt, if the legend is to be believed. The STRIKER theme (still in use today as the theme to the Sound Of Football podcast) evoked that old anthem, and its reassuring subtext, beautifully. Here was a game that looked ahead to a world of football that demanded its gratification in instant form or sack the coach. But it also knew the value of nostalgia and a compelling melody. Truly it was a product of its age.




Our sincere thanks to Terry Duffelen for allowing us to publish his fantastic guest post. If you fancy doing the same, drop us a line - our email address is admin [at] thefootballattic [dot] com, or contact us on Twitter or Facebook.

Football Manager (1982)

I was a Spectrum kid. Aged only eleven, I became the proud and grateful owner of one of Clive Sinclair’s first colour computers. My parents didn’t earn much money, but they put some aside whenever they had it and when Christmas came around, they usually treated me to a special present or two. In 1982, they surpassed themselves by handing me my first ever home computer.

I’d like to think I repaid their huge expense by using my ZX Spectrum regularly, often spending hours on end typing in a long and ultimately error-ridden program from a magazine. Yet as we know, most kids are mainly interested in games rather than programming, and in the early 1980’s I was no different.

Despite the limited graphics and processing power on offer, most of the titles available seemed quite exciting back then, so when Football Manager came along, it went straight to the top of my ‘must have’ list. Written by Kevin Toms and published by Addictive Software, this was a game that asked you to pick a team, select the right players and guide them all the way to glory in the FA Cup or Division 1. A shrewd footballing brain was required to do so, let alone a bit of luck and a tape recorder that didn’t mangle up your most recently saved game.

Choose your weapon...

There was no fancy title screen to welcome you into the game. Instead, you were invited to choose your team, and by that it should be noted that you were picking a team name, not necessarily the players within it. As a West Ham fan, my game would always begin by typing in 16, after which I'd list my players with a swift press of the rubber key marked 'A'. Luckily for me, the default squad did feature some West Ham players but essentially this was a random selection of professionals from all teams that needed sorting out over the course of a season.

Kenny Sansom - pack your bags...

All players had a skill level from one to five, an energy level of one to twenty and a monetary value. As manager of your team, the first thing to identify was those players that were making up the numbers. Kenny Sansom - sorry, but a skill level of one and an energy level of seven just wouldn't cut the mustard. Luckily, such players could be sold, although whether you were prepared to accept a derisory offer from another team would be for you to decide.

Blackpool - lacking morale

With that out of the way, you were ready to begin your first match in Division 4 – the starting point for your initial league campaign. As advanced warning of what was to come, you were shown the head-to-head ratings for your team and your opponents. Here you could assess the strengths or weaknesses in defence, midfield and attack, along with the energy and morale levels of both teams. If things looked a little shaky, you could tweak your starting XI to make sure you had the optimum score in all areas. There wasn't much you could do about the Morale rating, though, save for winning a few consecutive games.

No goal - and no ball either

There was only so much tweaking you could do, however, and inevitably the match would have to go ahead. Having decided which colour your team would appear in for the season (only black or white, I'm afraid), you were ready to sit back and watch the action. Yes, it was primitive by today's standards, but in 1982 the sight of some crudely-drawn players animated jerkily on a bright green pitch was enough to induce huge amounts of excitement and stress in equal proportions.

One-nil to The Hammers!

The thing to bear in mind is that during the often lengthy match highlight sequences, there was a considerable element of randomness that added a frisson of apprehension to even the most one-sided games. You were never quite sure how many shots on goal either team would get (let alone how many would go in) and on a few rare occasions a shot that seemed to be going off target might be deflected in by one of your other players.

Sure, you weren't told who was taking a shot or who had scored, but somehow that wasn't important. You merely wanted to see whether your team had scored more goals than your opponents, and it wasn't until the final score was displayed that you could finally breathe a sigh of relief that it was all over.

Plenty of goals at Gresty Road...

Having cast an eye over the other results from around the country and assessed your place in the league table, it was back to the drawing board to begin the whole process again. As well as league games, there were also occasional FA Cup matches thrown in for good measure and with a good run of form these could increase your club's income so that you could buy more players or pay off the loan you'd taken out, depending on your financial disposition.

Never mind, Hull - plenty of
games left

Come the end of the season, what with all the buying and selling of players and selection of teams, you probably felt as though you'd had quite an insight into the world of football team management. Naturally enough, it barely scratched the surface of what things were like in the real world – or even the video game simulations that we know nowadays – but the game was a masterpiece of coding and simple gameplay. It caught the imagination like wildfire back in the day and it's a testament to Kevin Tom's work that the title was still on sale many years after it was originally launched.

West Ham promoted!

As an 11-year-old, I loved playing Football Manager and my classmates at school did too. I know this because for one brief period, several of us would compare our results and league positions daily having written the important details down on bits of paper. How's that for video gaming with a social network element?

Football Manager was the first in a long line of computer games aiming to recreate the struggle to succeed as the boss of a top club, and it deserves all the adulation it's received over the last 30 years. In an 8-bit world of simple sprites and basic sounds, it still owns a place in the hearts of those of us that played it, and for that, Kevin Toms can feel rightly proud of his pioneering work.