RollerCoaster Tycoon — A RetRose-Tinted Review
Recall — Grandfatherly Fun
I can only properly remember one of my grandparents’ homes, the last one my maternal grandfather, my Poppa, ever lived in. Through a labyrinthine bunch of turns in the back end of Manteno, Illinois, we would eventually pull up to their home in a little cul de sac. Visiting Nana and Poppa meant everything from trips to the park nearby, funky lawn games, golf cart rides around the neighborhood, and a rotating video rental of Home Alone or Muppet Treasure Island. But it also meant computer games with Poppa, nestled right off the kitchen, a sharp right turn from the front door.
Memories of those times fade in and out, especially of the games we played. I know Poppa went out of his way to get more child-friendly games so we’d have things to play “together”; Gregory and the Hot-Air Balloon is the most prominent example, a classic point-and-click kids’ game. I vaguely remember stumbling around in Ecco the Dolphin, never quite sure of what to do or where to go, but loving the vibes and feel of it. But my fondest memories in front of Poppa’s computer were with Roller Coaster Tycoon (1999).
The title screen music is scorched into my inner ear. The basic layout of “Forest Frontiers” mapped out in my mind’s eye, along with the general starting attractions available. I loved putting a bunch of the fixed items up front (haunted houses, merry-go-rounds, fun slides, et cetera) so I could have all the room in the world in back to just build. Twisting rollercoasters rise into the sky, behemoths of wood and steel, monuments to my imagination and the possibilities before a child who had no concept of budgets or loan interest.
This was just our time together, playing computer games throughout the day until it was time to go home. It was fun, and silly, and carefree above all else.
Of all the things I remember from playing RCT with Poppa, it’s strange that one is a time of scolding. I remember loading up one of his parks and futzing around with one of his roller coasters. He wasn’t mad, didn’t yell or lash out (I never knew him to do that), but I remember he scolded me for not asking before making changes to his park. I asked, and he leaned back in his chair in approval and let me keep going. I’m sure that unlocked something in my young brain, to be more cognizant of playing with other peoples’ things. To ask permission. To do better.
I was eight when he passed away, so I had zero business acumen during the time we played together. Didn’t know what a loan was, or how to market things, or what the heck a profit was. But I did understand how cool it was to build theme parks, and especially roller coasters. I understood how good it felt to see a bunch of people lining up for something I built, the screams of giddiness as they rocketed down from the peak and through the twists and turns. I’ve never been a huge fan of roller coasters, and didn’t go on my first one until after Poppa passed away, but I loved the concept of them. Great, big marvels of thrill-seeking engineering, designed for the sole purpose of giving people a rush.
It was something I got to share with him, and something I got to bring my brothers into the fold with. My youngest brother eventually overtook my love for RCT, dwarfing my creations and parks tenfold. I don’t know how much he played with Poppa before he passed away, or if he played during that time, but I know there’s bits and pieces of him in that love. Something like that has persisted from the original release in the 90s to its accessibility on Steam.
I’ve revisited Roller Coaster Tycoon a few times since having regular access to Steam, but maybe being more aware of its source of inspiration will make it ring differently.
Revisit — Two Sides, One Coin
I am perpetually caught off-guard by how differently I approach RCT as an adult. It’s truly a different ballgame. What changed? An understanding of how money works, or how loans operate? The quashing down of more childlike dreams and perspectives with harsh reality? I think it’s just a refocusing.
Yes, I’m more concerned about the actual performance of my park, rather than the architectural wonders I could be capable of, but dropping a pre-fabricated roller coaster into the park for my guests to enjoy still brings me joy. Watching the bright blue queue line fill up is just as satisfying as ever, just as it is gutting to watch a once-full line dwindle to nothing. And I love that it took me until adulthood to realize I could maximize my Research & Development output, for as much joy as new attractions brought me as a child.
I became a lot more comfortable with verticality and moving above and below ground-level. Became more comfortable spending money on promotions. Found an absurd amount of joy in paying down loans as soon as I could; if I can’t do it as quickly in Real Life, might as well enjoy doing so in Theme Park Life. But every concept that was foreign to me as a youngster, no longer applied. I was coming in with decades more gaming experience, and decades more life experience. I at least know how loans operate now.
I can’t remember exactly how I felt playing Roller Coaster Tycoon way back when, aside from “good.” Whether that was due to the gameplay, or the company it often entailed, there’s no sure answer. But what sticks out to me now is that I’ve been able to enjoy two wildly different experiences, neither better nor worse than the other. Each just catered to me and what I was looking for at the time: freedom & creativity, and systems & challenge. Sometimes, a bit of Young Mike creeps back in to my gameplay, but we play separately, with one shared experience.
With that perspective, I can appreciate the time that I spent playing it with Poppa. By the time I knew him, he had since retired and was far more knowledgeable about how the world worked than I was; from him, I was able to learn certain elements, both in gamesmanship and in game mechanics. And through me, maybe I was able to keep him looped into a sense of wonder that can only come with playing games with kids. Just as the game is both things for me now, in practice and nostalgia, I think it might’ve been the same for him. And aside, it’s just nice to share things that you enjoy with other people. I like to think I picked that up from him, too.
Despite its age, Roller Coaster Tycoon holds up. Maybe a day will come when I get to lecture my nieces or nephews about the importance of paying down a loan as they build an obscene roller coaster. I’m sure it’ll still hold up by then, too.
