We’re introducing a new feature under the working title of Retrodotal, where writers reflect on their favorite, most memorable moments in gaming. In this opening feature, Jeffrey Matulef reminisces on his attempt to cram the last few moments of Okami into the last few hours of Summer.

Okami’s unusual visuals are still beautiful years after its release

"It’s like someone read my mind for what would make a perfect video game, and then made it." So said a younger, longer-haired Jeffrey Matulef in the autumn of 2006. That’s how I felt when I first played Okami. Though I don’t know if the word "played" does it justice; more like when I absorbed, consumed, and experienced Okami.

The Legend of Zelda has always been my favorite long-running game franchise, so the idea of a Zelda clone by Hideki Kamiya (Devil May Cry, Viewtiful Joe) that looked as good as Okami did was enough to launch it straight to the top of my most anticipated games ever list. I knew it would look great, and I knew it would play great, but I wasn’t exactly holding my breath on it having an interesting story or well-written script. Much to my surprise, and eternal delight it did. The story was still your basic tale of good versus evil, albeit with a Princess Mononoke-esque environmental message about replenishing nature. But the characters were complex and interesting, with developer Clover side-stepping the disconnect I usually get with silent protagonists by making Ameterasu a wolf goddess. It was a fantastic way of explaining why she’s smarter than most, yet cannot communicate with people. There’s even glimpses of how she looks from other people’s perspectives where her ethereal decorative wounds are invisible.

So enamored was I with Okami that while I wanted nothing more than to continue playing it non-stop, I also didn’t want it to end. At the same time, I had less than two weeks to beat the game prior to the start of the Fall term, knowing once that happened, I’d have practically no time to game. As a result, I’d made a concerted effort to time it right so I’d beat it just as summer vacation would come to a close.

For the most part, this wasn’t very hard. It may seem odd to look back upon now, but at the time, I had no real interest in writing about games for a living. As such, I didn’t want to become too obsessive about my gaming habits as I felt like it was unproductive regards my then professional aspirations. Games were just a hobby to me like comic books and movies; entertaining, moving, artistic, but I didn’t want them taking over my life. I made sure to take frequent breaks, read books, enjoy the outdoors. In essence, live the life of a college student in his early 20s.

Of course, Okami was so goddamned fantastic that my real life to Okami ratio was skewing towards the latter, and I found myself getting ahead of schedule. After roughly 42 hours gameplay I made it to Oni Island, what I presumed to be Ametarsu’s last stand, all with four whole days of summer left. I decided to use that borrowed time to go back and plunge the game’s depths, searching for secrets and enjoying the afterglow. But just as I was getting ready to complete my journey, something terrible happened; I came down with flu.

Sure, I could’ve pressed on. But this was Okami, perhaps the greatest game I’d ever played. I wanted nothing to detract from my experience, and its all-important ending in particular. I would’ve hated for my final thoughts upon completion to be "hurry up credits, roll faster. My head hurts and I need to lie down". I needed time. I needed to be in good health so that when I finally finished it I could truly bask in the loving embrace of Okami’s conclusion.