Before Xbox, before Nintendo, there was the Atari 2600 Video Computer System. Yes, there were other gaming systems before the 2600, but none so mass marketed to the point where every block had at least one other kid with whom you could share games with. And games weren’t CD-ROMs that you could copy; they were cartridges about the size of a deck of cards that plugged into the top of the machine. The “ROM” memory chip inside made them too expensive and too complicated to copy.
The wood veneer finish told you it was designed in the 1970s, but the hard plastic joystick screamed 80s. I look at a modern console game controller, curved to fit the hands, with many controls that allow complicated game movements. The 2600 joystick was a square box that fit oddly in your palm, with only a stick and a large orange button to move objects on the screen. Both the button and stick were stiff and difficult to move, and rashes or bruises were common after several hours of play. It wasn’t long before other manufacturers caught on and produced slightly better versions of the box-stick model. We didn’t know what Carpel Tunnel Syndrome was at the time, but I’m pretty sure that’s what made us numb — not Mom complaining that we were staying up to late.
There were no 3-D games for the 2600, and graphics were limited to 128 colors. The 2600 was known for it’s blocky graphics, and “people” were either squares or clumps of squares. A gun was typically a line extending from a clump of squares. When you pressed the joystick button, a distortion sound was heard and a dot was expelled from the “gun.” Sound was equally primitive, with just two sound channels that could produce electronic beeps and tones. The 2600 connected to your TV antenna or Cable TV jack; using your TV helped make this an affordable entertainment platform for the home. Note that this sometimes generated fights during prime-time TV viewing hours.
Using the 2600 was simple. It came with two joysticks for two-player gaming, but you could also purchase paddle (turn-able knob) controllers or other accessories for specific games. It had four levers on the front (power, b/w vs. color, game select, and game reset) and two slider switches on the rear to control difficulty for each player. To play a game, you simply put the cartridge in the slot and turned the 2600 on. A menu or title screen would appear, at which you would hit the game select switch to flip through options for the number of players or variations of game play. Hit the reset switch and you were off to have fun. Playing against little brother? No problem, just flip the rear difficulty switch to “B” to make things harder for you. Usually this just sped up the game speed or reduced your countdown timer.
Since there was no internal storage memory, all player data was erased every time the console was turned off. This frequently involved finding a neutral party to witness high scores to prove such events actually happened. Mom or an older brother more interested in encyclopedias usually filled that role.
Tempers would sometimes flare, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to hit the reset switch in a moment of rage. This was usually followed by someone yanking the cartridge out of the slot without turning the power off first — the deadliest sin in Atariland, where doing so was rumored to destroy both cartridge and console.
Games frequently had hidden features that would display programmer credits or produce some other treat for the player. Word of these “easter eggs” traveled by word-of-mouth or in magazines, as this was years before consumer use of the Internet. For fun, you could flick the power button causing a game malfunction, where random bits of the game would appear on the screen in improper places with unpredictability, usually followed by an obnoxious unintended noise.
As major game companies like Activision started creating games for the Atari 2600, games that showcased higher complexity became the norm. A lot was done with two sound channels and 128 colors. Players still appeared blocky, but game play included adventure games with more objects on the screen and the ability to gather items and maintain them throughout a story-based scenario.
Like all good things, Atari eventually folded due to what many perceive as poor marketing of its products. Subsequent game consoles like the Atari 5200 just never caught on. Affordable home computer systems such as the Commodore 64 and Apple II provided more gaming features and doubled as a home computer, complete with a keyboard.
Although Atari technology seems primitive by today’s standards, the charm of the Atari 2600 was that a lot of kids had them, and it was easy to make new friends just by showing up at their house with a new game. It was a creative outlet for youthful energy that didn’t involve annoying the neighbors in the backyard. It was a rainy day treat. Most of all, it was a marvel for its time, opening the door for the home adoption 0f future gaming platforms, such as the Nintendo, PlayStation, and now Xbox series of systems.
Jefferson Feil is a producer/screenwriter living in the Los Angeles area. A California native, Jeff spends his time relaxing by his backyard pool, writing captivating screenplays, frightening his neighbors, entertaining his three cats with pretend mice, and exploring the versatility of common household items. He also dabbles in photography, voice acting, and kitchen fire management. His charm and sarcastic sense of humor create an eclectic mix of intrigue and sophistication, which pour through his literary works like nacho cheese. He is the recipient of several top honors, including the prestigious Mrs. Schumacher 5th Grade Perfect Attendance award.