NBA Jam: 2HN Basketball Buffoonery

During my UCLA days in the early to mid-1990s, the video game console wars were in full effect with Sega and Nintendo jockeying for the top spot in the marketplace, specifically the media war between the Sega Genesis and the Super Nintendo. At the time, people either owned one or the other and rarely owned both, as if either company loyalty was that important or consoles and games were just too expensive to invest in two separate systems. As consoles became closer to arcade quality in their presentation of graphics and sound, video game cabinet manufacturers seemed to up the ante, having already introduced laserdisc-based games like Dragon's Lair and Firefox (based on the Clint Eastwood movie) and rolling out games with superior graphics, sound, and two-player gameplay like the once-ubiquitous Street Fighter II, Mortal Kombat, and NBA Jam. Initially, Sega and Nintendo, though capable of (then) superlative home-based video games, struggled to convert arcade-based games like Street Fighter II and NBA Jam to their consoles... but they eventually succeeded with differing results. While Nintendo (and, to some extent, Sega) did well to port Street Fighter II to the Super Nintendo, NBA Jam was not nearly the game it was in the arcade.

For anyone who wasn't born before 1990, let me introduce you to the concept of NBA Jam: it's essentially two-on-two basketball with 1990s NBA basketball stars. Do you like the Lakers? Well, you can play with James Worthy and Vlade Divac. Do you like the Golden State Warriors and long for the days of Run-TMC (Tim Hardaway, Mitch Richmond, and Chris Mullin)? Cool, because you could play with Hardaway and Mullin. Oh, you say that you love the Bulls? Of course, you can play with Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen... or NOT! Instead, you got Pippen and Horace Grant. How about Orlando Magic? Okay, you got Shaquille O'Neal, but you only got Penny Hardaway depending on which console you played the game. Much of who appeared in NBA Jam was dependent on licensing issues and the issues individual players had with royalties and such monetary concerns.

When it came to gameplay, it didn't matter with whom one played because NBA Jam was all about two things: thunderous dunks and fiery three-pointers. The fun of this game was in its uncomplicated, yet undeniably cheesy gameplay which often went like this: with one of your players (it really didn't matter who), you dribble the ball up the floor and either pass to your other player and dunk with heart-pumping authority or you loft a three-pointer from "way downtown." The first dunk of a streak of dunks was rather perfunctory, but the more a particular player dunked, the more acrobatic and gravity-defying the animations became. Likewise, the more a player drained three-pointers, the more the ball would burst into flame and the console or arcade cabinet's speakers would declare that he was "ON FIRE!" or "En fuego!"

The graphics of NBA Jam in the arcade were bright, garish, and eye-popping with each player looking like bobbleheads that are handed out at baseball stadiums as promotional items. Besides that, the uniforms of the players were shadowy reflections of the real-life uniforms, though the home floor of each team was emblazoned with that team's logos and colors to remind us that this WAS the NBA. What was even more indelible in my memory, however, was the sounds of the game: the crowd cheering, the realistic screech of sneakers on hardwood, and the play-by-play announcers' exclamatory remarks all created a hyper-realistic feel that went beyond anything one would watch during an NBA game on television.

In the 1990s, NBA Jam was ever-present in arcades on UCLA's campus and in local arcades and amusement centers I used to visit. I may have played the arcade version of the game once or twice on a lark, but I don't remember doing so. Yet, I'll always recall the NBA Jam announcer blurting, "Rony Seikaly... for three... He's on fire!" even though Rony Seikaly was not known for his three-point shooting. People used to line up their quarters to challenge the reigning player in the arcade; those battles were certainly fun to watch, at least for a few minutes. I never really developed an interest in NBA Jam, but I appreciated its presence in the arcades, at least because the game only added to the animated, noisy buffoonery that was, and still is, inherent to the video arcade lifestyle and motif.

Just last weekend, my wife and I happened upon a garage sale in one of the older homes in our area. Being a semi-avid video game cartridge collector, I reasoned (and hoped) that this older home would have a treasure trove of older games and consoles because the older homes were where peoples lived long enough to accumulate junk from the 1990s and before. Sure enough, I rummaged through a box of discarded and dusty game consoles to find a filthy Super Nintendo console and two cartridges: NBA Jam and Super Mario World 2 (about which I will write later). Both cartridges set me back a few bucks, which I handed to the homeowner with a thin veneer of calm hiding the unrepentant joy and enthusiasm that welled up from within me. Those cartridges were an uncommon find, especially now when savvy sellers are well-aware of the value of retro game cartridges on eBay. I gleefully took both cartridges home, gingerly yet aggressively cleaned the copper pins with Windex and Q-Tips, and washed the outsides of both cartridges with some Greased Lightning and a microfiber cloth. Thankfully, I got both cartridges working in my trusty Retro Duo.

I discovered two things that day: one was that Super Mario World 2 was as awesome as what I had read in a couple of reviews; the other was the NBA Jam on the Super Nintendo was a poor imitation of the arcade version. I played NBA Jam on the SNES for a few minutes to "test" the game's functions and playability and, sadly, found it dull compared to EA Sports' NBA Live series of games. It was just pass-pass-dunk, pass-pass-three, pass-pass-have ball stolen-watch as the computer dunks on my flailing sprites. Oh well... At least the cartridge was cheap and buying it triggered enough of those nostalgic feelings about the arcades of my youth to offset how mediocre NBA  Jam for the SNES was, and still is.