I still remember blowing into Famicom cartridges until my cheeks hurt.
I was watching some retro gaming videos on YouTube the other day. There was a channel diving deep into the story of SEGA’s Sonic. As I scrolled through the comments, I saw other old-time players sharing how they saved up for cartridges as kids, or how they first held a Mega Drive controller in a small shop. Their memories overlapped with mine.
What surprised me more was the comment section itself. People were rational. They disagreed without fighting. And they were quite welcoming to me, a Chinese commenter.
So I thought: I’ll write too. I’ll write about how we played, growing up on this side of the world.
Not to compare who had it worse, nor to claim we understood games better. Just our real experiences — blowing into Famicom cartridges, getting yelled at by arcade owners, going from grey-market PS2s to an official Chinese version of the Switch.
We are all gamers who love life. We just grew up in different places.
Before I begin, I want to say a few things. Not as a defense, just to let you know where we started.
First, we don’t run from the piracy issue. Back then, there was no other path. When we grew up, we bought legitimate copies — not to whitewash the past, but because we genuinely wanted to pay that ticket.
Second, Steam helped a lot. For many Chinese players, the concept of buying legitimate games began with Steam. For older games that never got remastered, we still seek out original physical copies from back in the day.
Third, the game console ban and the “war on gaming addiction” did shape us. I’m not here to talk politics, but to say this: it was a generational disconnect, not anyone’s fault.
Fourth, the shift from grey imports to legitimate copies was a natural process. I’m optimistic about China’s console market and its games. If you’re interested, you’re welcome to join us.
Fifth, we just live in different places. The love for games is the same. Chinese people are often busy, but the way we support legitimate games may be a little different from yours.
Alright. Let’s begin.
(Small note: AI helped polish the grammar a little. Every story here — blowing cartridges, the Water Level 8 rumor, the arcade owner’s noodles, using PSP as an MP4 player — is 100% my real experience.)
In June 2000, China issued a ban: no selling game consoles. The reasoning: arcades had gotten too chaotic — fights, gambling, plus parents wanted kids to focus on college entrance exams. A blanket cutoff, simple and blunt. That ban lasted fifteen years. Buying a console meant going through grey-market imports. Some people ran host rooms out of their homes — secret bases for that generation of players.
But here’s the twist: consoles were kicked out, but online games exploded. Legend of Mir, Fantasy Westward Journey, World of Warcraft — all appeared. Chinese online gaming even ran ahead of the rest of the world. Not letting people play games? Then how did internet cafes outnumber those elsewhere?
In 2002, the Blue Extreme Speed Internet Cafe in Beijing was set on fire. Several minors were refused entry, bought gasoline, and came back. 25 people died. After that, a nationwide crackdown on internet cafes began. Minors were banned. The media began calling games “electronic heroin.” Parents were terrified.
Right at that moment, a psychiatrist named Yang Yongxin in Linyi, Shandong, rose to fame. He “treated internet addiction” at his hospital — electroshocks to the temples, confinement, medication. Disobey? Shock until you obey. Parents tearfully sent their children in. Some children, after coming out, would tremble at the sight of a white lab coat. The medical community had long rejected electroshock for addiction treatment. But public panic and media frenzy kept Yang Yongxin in the spotlight for years.
So you see: consoles banned, online games rising. The government wanted to block gaming, but couldn’t stop internet cafes or mobile games. Parents feared addiction, so some sent their children to have their temples shocked. Every decision was made “for the good.” But each one cut deep into the players. The ban was fully lifted in 2015. Online games never stopped. But for that generation, some parts of youth could never be brought back.