2 SR10

If you bothered to read the title of this editorial you should have a
pretty good idea of its main theme. But just in case you're having
trouble with your deductive reasoning skills here it is: RESIST THE
URGE TO SELL YOUR SEGA COLLECTION!

With that said, allow me to explain. Those of you who have perused My
Sega Collection may be wondering why its official start date (9.9.99) is
so late, considering that I claim to be a life-long Segaholic. You may
also wonder why the collection is not bigger than it is, especially
considering the fact that as I am composing this rant I own only 17
Genesis games---an unacceptably low amount (for a Segaholic)
considering it was arguably Sega's most popular and successful
system. Well, those two ponderings go hand in hand and will be better
understood once I tell you about my videogame background:

Like most people born in the early 80s the first system I owned was an
NES (although the first system I played was an Intellivision). I still
remember opening it up on Christmas day and popping in Super Mario
Bros. It wasn't until my NES library grew to about 40 games before I
first encountered the Sega Genesis. I had actually never heard of
Sega before, and it would be many years later before I discovered that
the Master System ever existed, but their new system promised twice
the power of the NES so I was definitely intrigued.

It just so happened that my friend got a Genesis for his birthday and,
thanks to the glory of Altered Beast, I learned what Sega was all
about. I finally talked my parents into getting a Genesis and, soon
enough, had about 40 games for that as well (as my NES remained in
the closet collecting dust). Then Sega released the Game Gear to
combat Nintendo's Game Boy. And with a full-color backlit screen it
kicked the Game Boy's ass, only further reiterating the fact that Sega
was the best gaming company on the planet.

Things soon got ugly though and eventually they evolved into my very
own personal dark-age of gaming. It all started with the release of the
Sega CD. Not that the Sega CD was a bad system. It's just that it came
too soon. I had already purchased a Genesis and a Game Gear in only
a few short years and all the sudden Sega was asking me to buy
another system. But I did because Sega was that good. They had
never let me down yet so I purchased a Sega CD and started buying
games all over again. But this time I only had the chance to buy about
a half dozen games because soon after I bought a Sega CD Sega
announced their plans to released the 32X. And then, only a few
months later, the Saturn and the Nomad! Six systems in six years.

I felt burnt, so I didn't buy the 32X. Or the Saturn. Or the Nomad. Then
I stopped buying games for the Sega CD and the Genesis. It was all
just too much to worry about. I stopped playing games for a while.
(Ironically, though, I still encouraged my friends to buy the Saturn
even though I wouldn't spend the money myself to get one). And
then...then the worst thing that ever could have happened...happened:
my mother sold all of my old videogame systems and games at a
garage sale! All of it. Gone. Just like that. I don't remember her ever
asking me for permission to do it, but she must have just assumed
that I didn't want them anymore because I stopped playing them. I
don't even want to know how badly she and I got ripped off
(economically speaking), but anyone that's ever been to a garage sale
knows that prices are usually incredibly low.

It was definitely dark times. To make matters worse, I wasn't the only
gamer to feel burned by Sega during their release-a-new-system-every-
six-months era, and, as a result, the Saturn was failing dismally. But
soon there was hope on the horizon as Sega announced their
intentions to release another system: the Dreamcast. I preordered it
months in advance. I spent hours a day on the 'Net reading every bit
of Dreamcast news. Soon it was 9.9.99 and my love for Sega was
renewed. I bought games like mad, basking in the innovation that
came with every new Sega game.

But, of course, all good things must come to an end. And the
Dreamcast came to this end on January 31, 2001 as Sega announced
their departure from the hardware business. It was a depressing day,
proof enough that if the greatest, most innovative gaming company on
the planet cannot succeed in the hardware business then there is
something wrong with the industry.

Ironically, though, it was around this same time that Sega released
the Sega Smash Pack Volume One, a compilation of over a dozen
classic Sega games, and I realized how much I missed my old Sega
games. It was with this release that I realized my love for Sega's
systems didn't have to end simply because they were done making
new ones. It was then that I decided to get back what I had lost only a
few years earlier: my videogame collection.

I began working backwards, getting all the systems, and then all of
the top games (many of which I had missed out on the first time
around). In fact, this is the reason SCG exists. I was searching around
the web, trying to find the top games for each system and continually
coming up empty-handed, that I decided to take the matter into my
own hands and make Sega collecting easier for others.

My friends always ask me, "how long until you sell your collection off,"
and I always answer the same way: "never," because I know what it's
like to have something I enjoy taken away from me. And, quite
honestly, it's really not worth allowing it to happen again. So I'm not
going to let it happen again. And that is why I have to resist the urge
to sell off my collection, which is not an easy thing to do, especially
when I look at how much money I've spent on the thing. They say
money can't buy happiness, but it can buy things that make you
happy. That's what my Sega collection is all about. Everyone needs a
hobby, something they enjoy doing. I love playing videogames, and
Sega is the best there is in the industry. It only makes sense that Sega
collecting would be my hobby.

To make a long editorial short, if you enjoy videogames, don't be
afraid to buy them. And even more importantly, don't be afraid to keep
them, because you won't realize how much you enjoyed them until
they're gone.