It’s probably best I don’t know how many hours I’ve sunk into the Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater franchise over the years. It feels like only yesterday I was sitting in front of the 15” CRT TV in my bedroom, seemingly endlessly hitting the “Restart Level” button on a Tony Hawk game, constantly searching for the perfect run, a chance to best my high score, and memorizing every square inch of each level, far beyond just achieving its goals.
Truthfully, I didn’t know how my 8-year-old daughter would react to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4 when she asked to “play my skateboarding game.” She’s a hell of a young gamer to her credit, and rarely hands the controller to me any more to “get her past a hard part,” instead having an admirable level of stubbornness and fortitude to keep playing until she gets past something tricky.
It might not feel like it at times, but video games have changed a lot in the last 25 years. I’m not talking simply about graphics — but how we approach and play games, as well as what we value. Single player games are all about boundless freedom, endless time sinks in other worlds, with hundreds of collectables to find and places to get lost in. The Tony Hawk Pro Skater franchise was at its best without this level of freedom.
THPS evolved alongside gaming, eventually becoming an effort in open world freedom in its own right — but the sweet spot of the franchise will always be Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3 and Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 4. This was when the series really found its footing to balance interesting level design, creative skateboard platforming, and action sports into a package unlike anything else. Goals were often ridiculous, but hadn’t gone full Jackass as the series devolved into, nor did it try to add so many mechanics that it became cumbersome.
“What do you mean I only get two minutes, dad?”
Gaming has changed. The idea of only getting a two minute run was completely foreign to an eight-year-old who has largely cut her gaming teeth on Roblox and Minecraft. In a landscape where everything is about maximizing playtime, creating gameplay loops to turn a game into addiction, here was THPS standing in stark opposition: You have two minutes, achieve as much as possible, make the most of your run.
At a time where companies focus on freedom and length of play, it’s refreshing to watch a kid experience a game with constraints. One that embraces the simple beauty of trying to achieve a high score, then attempting to best it. The pressure of having 20 seconds left on the clock and searching desperately for the ‘E’ in S-K-A-T-E. .The barrier for entry was high when my daughter wanted to “try my skateboarding game,” because it wasn’t just about learning the controls, but experiencing a type of gaming that told the player they didn’t have unlimited time and resources. Granted, the remake of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4 allows the run time to be set up to 60 minutes for long, relaxing runs, but that’s antithetical to the experience.
While it was frustrating at first, soon she fell in love with the game. Now she craves the challenge in making things count, and the beauty of a solid run. The feeling of achievement when you bang out four goals in two minutes, and the ephemeral nature of the game where a run lasts for one song, then it’s gone.
“Did you see that? I did a grind!”
Like me, my daughter has been really into skateboarding. While most of her peers like to ride bikes and rollerskate, she’s the kid who asks me on the weekend if we can hit up the skate park. It’s become a tradition between us, and it’s adorable every single time she claims she did an ollie when in reality she just rocked the board back on its tail.
Skateboarding was freedom for me, as much as anything else. I grew up in the city, and biking was dangerous. A board, however? It was easy enough to carry on the bus or train, then use it to get around. Being a kid in suburbia she won’t experience that, but playing THPS has given her a way of looking at skateboarding that isn’t confined to a bowl or X-Games street course.
It was one of her proudest moments when she finally understood how to grind in the game. The sequencing of the ollie, lining up the board, and hitting the grind button at the right time. Then I explained to her how different directions did different tricks, and showed her on her board how each grind and slide was performed. Wide-eyed she loved it.
This was also one of the first times she’s experienced button inputs in a game. Something we’ve all taken for granted. Outside of fighting games there’s no much room for something like “RIGHT-DOWN-CIRCLE,” but when I told her that’s how you do Tony Hawk’s 900 she was hooked. It was another layer of complexity and challenge inside something she already found challenging, and she loved it.
I truly didn’t know if I’d ever get this kind of gaming experience with my daughter. Sure, I could always go back and show her classic games that I played as a kid, and I have — but there’s something magical about seeing something I loved so intently reimagined in a way that it can engage her at roughly the same age.
When I dropped her off to summer camp this morning the last words as she exited my car were “Can I play Tony Hawk when I get home?” She’s midway through THPS 3 right now, and loves putting points into her created skater, a version of herself. She’s achieved most of the goals, but it still searching for the secret tapes in every level.
Yes, I had to explain what a VHS tape was.
