8-Bit Halfwit is a series where Brent Blackwell, a longtime but not particularly skillful gamer, revisits NES games in order of their release. To see more in this series, click here.
Details
Release Date: October 18, 1985
Genre: American Football
GameFAQs rating: 2.39/5
GameFAQs difficulty level: Easy
GameFAQs length: 4.2 hours
Background: 10-Yard Fight, an opening day release for Nintendo in the US, had been around in arcade form for a couple of years. Wikipedia calls it “the first slightly realistic American football video game ever developed and released”.
Game On
Upon starting the game, the first option is to “SELECT YOUR OPPONENT’S SKILL LEVEL!!” Being a noob, I’ll go with HIGH SCHOOL TEAM, and save COLLEGE TEAM, PROFESSIONAL TEAM, PLAYOFF TEAM, and SUPER BOWL TEAM for later.
HIGH SCHOOL GAME
My opponent is in red, kicking off from the 40 yard line (accurate for high school). There are 30 minutes on the clock. This is a game of halves, apparently. Already, it seems I’m facing some sort of Chip Kellian rocket surgeon on the opposing sidelines, because his kickoff formation is remarkably experimental: only 5 players stand on the 35, ready to take me on. Where are the other 6? I can see all the way back to team red’s (and, in the spirit of ’85, let’s call them, oh, the Moscow Marxists) 20 yard line, and there’s not another defender in sight. Are they at the 15, waiting for what will be a long return? Do they know something I don’t know? Already, the psychological warfare has begun. Then again, it’s not called 10-Yard Polite Handshake.
My team is decked out in red, white, and blue, and the symbolism is so obvious. In a prescient move by developer Irem, does this entire game symbolizes the coming struggle of the Soviet Union to turn to democracy, adopting the red, white and blue Russian flag we know today? While I’d prefer a simple game of football between two American teams, I’ll play your allegory of Eurasian Revolution, Irem. My team [henceforth known as the Wobbly Yeltsins] receives the ball at its own 30 yard line. I counteract comrade Kelly’s unique kickoff formation with my own unique alignment on the return – 8 blockers surround my return man (curiously donning a lighter shade of blue than his teammates), with 3 in front, 2 by his side, and 3 inexplicably behind him.
I learn quickly that as I move, so move the blockers. The coordination is uncanny. I dart left, all 8 blockers dart left. I move forward at a glacial pace, they move forward at the same glacial pace. Not only do I control my return man, but thanks to their utter devotion to synchronized running, I control all the blockers. I return the opening kickoff 18 yards to the Marxists’ 47.
As the offenses and defenses take the field, I realize this is 9-on-9 football. 5 offensive linemen line up, opposed by 5 defensive linemen. My kick returner is now quarterback, lined up at pistol depth (3 yards) in the shotgun, flanked by two running backs. An H-back starts on the right and motions toward the left. He’ll do this on every play.
I snap the ball, and frankly, don’t know what the hell is going on. I had allowed the H-Back to go left, so I go left, and naturally, the entire team goes left. I press a button. The QB throws a swing pass in the direction I’m running. The RB catches it and runs to the 29 for an 18 yard gain. Ok, that works. Same play, this time to the right, 7 yard gain. Back to the left, up to the 7 for a big 15 yard gain. We’re in the red zone. Time to pass.
Instead, idiocy takes over. On 1st and 7, I apparently called for a field goal. There’s no playcalling phase, so I don’t know how the hell this happened, but sure enough, the ball is snapped, and an arrow points at the goalposts out of nowhere. I press the button, and boom, 3 points, which the ref signals by running onto the field and raising… one hand in the air. Damn it. We’re fully into the psychological gameplay just for the sake of it at this point. I have become the most unpredictable team in the history of football.
I kick off, and it appears the Marxists have adopted my bizarre kickoff return phalanx formation. My KR/QB/K makes the tackle at our own 49. On defense, I see that I have the option of picking one of two defensive players. I take the weakside linebacker. It was the right decision. Moscow’s QB runs left, then right, and I dive at him for a sack. After two more plays, I force a punt, and I get the ball at the 25, determined this time to not attempt a first down field goal. After a 5 yard gain on first down, I decide to throw a pass to the H-back. He gets past the wave of linebackers clearly playing zone coverage, and KR/QB/K throws the pass. Intercepted. Son of a bitch.
Now, with the ball in great field position, comrade Kelly busts out a play I did not yet know possible. The QB takes the snap, throws to the RB. It was apparently a lateral, because the RB then throws the ball downfield to the H-back for a gain, all the way to my 16 yard line. It’s a stroke of brilliance, but I’ve filed it away. With some good safety play, I hold the dirty communists to a single field goal. We’re tied, 3-3, with 13:58 to go in the first half (I think). I move the ball methodically down the field, and on first and 10 from the 15, I call for my own RB pass, which goes for a pretty easy touchdown. Two can play your dirty game, comrade Kelly. My kicker punts the ball through the uprights for the extra point (yes, I know). Wobbly Yeltsins 10, bad guys 3. The Marxists move the ball well against me with their 2-minute offense, but even given 7 minutes, this cocaine-addled gameclock runs fast enough to leave them unable to score before the half. The screen announces:
1 HALF TIME UP
I have no idea what this means.
On the Marxists’ opening drive of the second half, they manage to open up new areas of cuteness with the playcalls. The QB rolls left and pitches to the running back, but this time, instead of throwing to the H-back 7 yards downfield, he throws back to the QB. QB to RB, RB to QB, and I’m sure, if given the opportunity, the QB would have happily tossed the ball to the H-back, or perhaps back to the RB. This game doesn’t have much in the way of music, but I have a suggestion if you sit down to play:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=opmwfRqdGsg
Alas, the QB didn’t have the chance. My LB intercepted it (or recovered the “fumble”, perhaps). We trade some turnovers, and with 16:16 left in the game, the Marxists kick a field goal to cut my lead to 4.
I force a punt with 6 minutes left, which, given the rapidity of the clock, could be a stunning error on the part of my opponent. In a game that’s all about aggression and absurdity, he turned into David Shaw. I’ll take it. With 36 seconds left, I punch it in for my final TD, and the game is won. I win, 17-6, and then I get a great message:
YOU ARE ON YOUR WAY TO THE SUPER BOWL!
And thus begins the college game. To save us some time, we’re gonna go straight to the Super Bowl difficulty.
The opponent, now purple, was able, on kickoffs, to send it all the way to my goal line (I was still limited to using a HS quality kicker), but other than that, there was no discernible difference in difficulty. A little better in my second game, the Wobbly Yeltsins managed to win the Super Bowl, 21-7. I did it!
If you’re wondering what message you receive after winning the Super Bowl, it’s a familiar one:
YOU ARE ON YOUR WAY TO THE SUPER BOWL!
Ok, asshole, I think I’m done.
This is not me:
Game Over
10-Yard Fight isn’t hailed as one of the greatest football games, nor should it be. It’s seen as a grandfather to those games, perhaps, and it’s kind of better than I expected it to be. The graphics weren’t terrible for what was a port of a 1983 arcade game, and honestly, the fun factor was higher than it should’ve been, given the rather lazy design. The potential on any play for innumerable laterals in the backfield give it a backyard kind of vibe. It’s fun. Winning isn’t incredibly easy unless, I’d imagine, you eliminate all willingness to throw the football, because you WILL be intercepted. But that’s part of the fun. If you play 10-Yard Fight, attempt passes. The game will likely be closer and you’ll enjoy it more. There are some flaws, and after one game or so, it gets awfully monotonous. Still, it’s fun having a 1985 NES football game come down to whether or not you can make a stop on 3rd and 3, so that’s something.
2.5/5