When the most publicized of events are right around the corner, no game publisher is can keep anything under wraps. The managerial decision to leave supposedly confidential information accessible to the public is no doubt well known at this point; we'll leave the actual reveal be in favor of exploring the shortcomings and, later, nested potential of our gone-too-soon friend's yesteryear lineup.

The Arcade At Home

Few games are as deserving of the description I'd bestow upon Crazy Taxi: Pure arcade. SEGA's recent leak actually (and finally) gives hope for the future of SEGA's star amongst their wacky franchises. In an arena driven by leaderboards and social gaming, it's likely my previous label for Taxi would take on something more viral, becoming almost narcotic in nature.

The ability to keep someone in the game, craving more has been excellently performed in the recent past. In many ways, Geometry Wars: Retro Evolved 2 paved the way for deeply seeded social gaming in a downloadable package. Its ingenious plastering of leaderboards on the mode selection menu displays an elegance of design through simplicity, augmenting the game itself and elevating the experience to meta-status. However, the end of this thread is anti-climactic - Bizarre Creations' road has remained less traveled, only to be taken by a select few (Shadow Complex comes to mind).

This is a path I see for Crazy Taxi as well as others. It also raises some perplexing questions.

Lost Generation

Fond as I am of the Dreamcast days, we do require more than the straight ports we've been receiving as of late. Crazy Taxi is, among many others, a game that would require a complete retooling to find a home on current gamers' hard drives. A networking of further social integration would be necessary to properly keep it afloat in today's digital marketplaces. SEGA - and other publishers - would be wise to keep open minds and ears about them. The irony of this affair is how SEGA seems to hold most, if not all, of the arcade classics gamers so dearly crave, and they're continuously botched in some fashion. Nevertheless, that is behind us, and we need to look ahead to help our pasts into tomorrow.

So how can certain SEGA Dreamcast era relics survive the break-neck pacing of the digital age beyond sympathetic pangs of nostalgia?

The short answer is they can not.

It's all right, though; the long answer is far less absolute.

Want Versus Need

The problems these older releases face in this digital age are those of apathy and lack of vision. DICE has already proven to the world that an exclusively downloadable entry into a series can be a smashing success (in spite of its technical flaws). To date, Battlefield 1943 has sold well over a million units across the two platforms upon which it is available and is sure to continue moving copies once the PC version hits some time in the future.

In light of this, I ask, "Why do publishers, developers, and their audiences settle for nothing more than what they've already witnessed when a legacy is something to be upheld and not worshipped?"

To be more blunt, the vocal few clamoring for ports of their favorite old generation games rarely put their money where their mouths are. Virtual On: Oratorio Tangram is the most easily recognized case. A cult hit for many years, held in high regard by many gamers as a quintessential arcade gaming experience, VO:OT was granted a re-release on Xbox Live Arcade earlier this year.

Sadly, it didn't catch on. Why it didn't is a problem we'll be facing for many others if SCE and SEGA's plans go through.

A Forward Solution

This isn't a market in need of constant padding from retro games and franchises; it's one in need of altogether new entries in existing series and spiritual successors that are aided by their predecessors, should they be made available.

Very few have stepped up to the plate, most notably of whom would be Capcom with the stellar Megaman 9. Though the presentation is questionable to some, Megaman 9 features some of the sharpest level design of any Megaman title. It also has a sense of humor about itself and its expectations of fans. And fans responded with resounding praise. Megaman 9's prowess of execution and economic development should be made a poster child for any subsequent retro-revivals.

It's not a port; it's not an updated re-release; it's a whole new game. That said, why can't that be the future of our beloved Dreamcast games? Or better yet, all games? Leave the past be and forge a new path for our old favorites. Back in the day, Virtual On was a treat on every front. Arcade cockpits, twin sticks, bright visuals; that game had it all. Seeing it limp into the downloadable games front leaves me feeling remorse more than excitement, and that couldn't be further from what I want. Having been 6 years since the last Virtual On (Cyber Troopers Virtual On Marz), I'd say we're entitled to a balls-out sequel for all major console download services. I doubt I'd be alone in this thinking. In fact, issuing re-releases makes for better marketing synergy in my eyes. In a more sensible marketplace, I could see the slight hack job on VO:OT being released at a budget price to create consumer awareness for an impending sequel, but I digress.

The Pending Conclusion

For all this bluster, you'd think I was completely against the classic/retro gaming download movement. I'm not. I just feel that most have lost their way in creativity and are relying too heavily upon trying to recapture once-caught lightning in a bottle. I do believe it has its place, and I plan on expounding upon how great a service it does us all as gamers in the near future. That does nothing to change the poor perception of audience some publishers seem to display.

I leave you, dear reader, with a succint summary: These ports should be our supplements, not our diets.