Super Soccer

Year : 1992
Format : Super Nintendo
Developer : Human Entertainment
Publisher : Nintendo
Players : 1-2

REALISTIC, beautiful, long-lasting and politically correct are just some of the terms you wouldn’t use when reminiscing over the flawed but charming Super Soccer on the SNES. As one of the machines first releases in the UK it has held something of a cult status since most people probably owned it from day one. But why? It was chunky to look at, extremely limited (one tournament mode. That’s yer lot folks), had set routines where you could score EVERY time and was unrealistic to the extreme. However, there was one department where it had few equals. It was a huge, pure slice of fun. Fun spelled out with a big bold capital F. In huge ten foot neon lights. Flashing on and off like a Vegas casino.

Developed by Japanese company Human (responsible for some pretty cool arcade games during the 80’s and 90’s including the FirePro Wrestling series), it never tried to be anything other than arcade football at its finest. The world of true arcade football is a little different to the real one and the games that try to replicate it – in arcade world, goals are only scored through chunky-thighed strikers with auburn mullets via the medium of flying scissor kick or outrageous banana shot. Keepers tend goal through Superman-like dives alone and tackling is restricted to excruciating fouls and elbows to the face. It’s an ugly world, arcade football – but god is it fun.

As you can see from the title screen, the front end was informative and erm, nothing else really - a slow chimp could negotiate his way through the option screens. 16 International teams were for the offing, ranging from the tough Italy, Germany and Brazil down to lowly Belgium. Upon selecting the teams you were 'treated' to a graphic of the two sides running onto the pitch and indulging in what looked like some formation hop-scotch. Beautiful in its own way.

The main contentious matter was the viewpoint with which the games were played. Where Sensible Soccer went for the ‘high and handsome’ view (seats at Wembley, roughly £100), and Pro Evolution opted for ‘medium-height on halfway line’ area (again, pricey seats at around £80), Super Soccer decided to be revolutionary and plump for straight behind one of the two goals (bargain basement seats at £15-£20, this says it all really). It meant that kicking away from the screen was fine and dandy, where as kicking towards the screen was like shooting with a blindfold on, as the actual net never materialised until you were bearing down on the goalkeeper. Of course, with some time and effort you got that sixth sense that all the great strikers have of ‘knowing where the goal is’, and the old onion-bag was bulged regularly but Human please, you didn’t half make it hard for us.

The ball (approximately twice the size of players’ heads) stuck to your feet like glue, and when dribbling it was possible to swerve past the vicious incoming tackles by hovering in mid-air with ball-attached-to-foot like a ballerina. Games were fast, grotesquely brutal (shoulders-first challenges were met with a shout of something incomprehensible like “shove off” by the assailant), and enormously enjoyable. Goals were scored usually by bending in from long range, or approaching from an angle and finding the near post as the subsequent keeper dived two feet over the ball like a bodyguard saving the Presidents stomach from a flying bullet, and games regularly finished with scores into double figures. If matches ended all square, a superb penalty shootout would take place, not even Pro Evo has got the fine art of penalty drama down as well as this did.

I always found Germany to be hard as nails, with their number 10 (usually the star player for every side) Lotar a particular menace. With only 5 letters available for every player name, Human got out their 'Big Book Of Stereotypical Male Names' book and assigned them accordingly. Therefore, for the Germans you also had Franz, Rudi and Hans, the Japanese had Yoshi and Akira, the Argentinians Jose, Diego, Luis and Pedro and the Italians Gino, Rocco, Mauro and Romeo. Curiously for Italy, Human evidently ran fresh out of names as the bench was regularly warmed by Vince, Cyril and Basil – somehow I doubt whether Don Cyril was ever taken seriously in the Italian mafia. The big-haired Colombian goalkeeper was even named Loco, and bared an uncanny resemblance to their crazy early nineties custodian Rene Higuita.

It was certainly flawed and somewhat haphazard, but Super Soccer has lived long in the memory thanks to of all of its little eccentricities and charm. What other football games give you as many amusing player names, crazy bending shots, disgusting fouls and a card-happy referee who looks like the lovechild of Humpty Dumpty and the Fat Controller from Thomas the Tank Engine? Exactly.