The 88MPH Reviews: Mike Tyson’s Punch Out
Video game systems keep getting bigger, badder, louder, and meaner. The games keep getting deeper, and more awesome.
However, they are not a way of life. If you don’t have an X-Box, or a PS3, it’s no big deal. Who cares?
Back in the day, if you didn’t have a Nintendo, you didn’t EXIST, motherfuckers. You couldn’t talk with your friends, because you’d have nothing to talk about. You’d have nothing to do with your day once you were done running around outside playing ninjas. The entire world would pass you by on a day by day basis. You HAD to have a Nintendo.
Now, once you had it, you have to have the games. Again, you don’t have’em, or you didn’t rent’em, you’d be ostracized. Now let’s get it crunk….
Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out is truly the world ‘classic’ in a physical form. It’s like a shark, or my boner, it’s never had to evolve. It was fantastic the second it hit the streets, and it still is. It still trumps most of the games out there today, and it’s simple as hell. Unlike things such as friends, kids, or girlfriends/wives, Mike Tyson’s Punch Out never sucked and just disappointed you. Like when you’re in court for a stupid date rape charge, and you try and explain to the jury that you thought it was opposite day, and that’s why she kept saying no as I was nose diving for some boobie. Friends would gather around and play Punch Out for hours. On the playground you’d hear talks of people lying about how they beat Mike Tyson, when, as we all know, that’s impossible. One punch and you’d be out.
This was long before the internet, so we’d have to wait for issues of Nintendo Power to come out, so we could learn strategies. It took us forever to figure out how the hell we’re suppose to beat King Hippo! That fat, crowned motherfucker.
You wait for him to taunt, then BAM! Right in his bandage, which was odd, because what the fuck was it there for? Then once you do that, it’s right, left, right, left he’s toothless, and then he says GODDAMN YOU’RE RUTHLESS! He was the first big challenge, so it kicked ass to finally land a blow on him.
With Bull, it was like you had no chance on paper. He was 30ft high, and about 600lbs. But with razor sharp precision that only an 8 year old possesses, you waited till he rushed you like a bull, then ….well, nothing really. Just a simple left jab, and that’s it. He’d go down. Heh, funny, that same strategy worked on my girlfriend in 9th grade.
Until I met my friend Saleem, I thought this guy represented all of India. I figured they all had turbans with jewels, and mobbed around with Tiger Skins. Imagine my surprise when I found out that those stereotypes weren’t true. They walk around with Leopard skins, and for some reason they all claim to NOT know The Iron Sheik, when we all know they do.
His trick was his jewel would blink, and that meant the hurricane. He’d fly around the ring with a circle and he’d stop to hit you, and you didn’t know it was coming.
Basically, one doesn’t need to take a trip around the world. You play Mike Tyson’s Punch Out, and you’ve been there, done that, baby. You got your Indians, your Asians [Honda], and you’ve also got Russians, as Ladies and Gentlemen I present to you, Sodapopinski. He’s a bad motherfucker from the USSR who think’s Rocky 4 is bullshit, and is out to prove it by drinking a lot of Fresca and punching motherfuckers.
After every couple of fighters you’d get a code, so you wouldn’t have to fight your way up to the top in succession every time. You’d even get an awesome training montage, as The Kid runs after Carol Winslow, while he’s wearing a pink sweat suit.
After years of training, tons of practice, and some anabolic steroids. Yes, I took the juice, I don’t give a shit. I took what I needed to WIN…I never did see Tyson hit the floor. So I took that out on my mother, she hit the floor pretty good. That’ll teach her to ask me what I’d like for dinner. Honestly, to even get close to beating Mike Tyson, it….it felt like…I don’t want to trivialize this feeling, like some people do when they talk about something as mundane as getting married, or having a stupid kid. Basically, you were a God. For the uniniated, I’ll include a video of a fight with Tyson. Seriously, the size difference is that of my boner against my boner. That’s right, my boner is so rocking that it even defeats my own boner. Man, I rule.