I didn’t want a Switch on launch day. That’s what I told myself anyways.
“I can just wait until Father’s Day or Christmas. I don’t need it right now,” I said.
I thought that this was true. I could wait, or at least I thought I could. As the months passed, the hype of the Switch built. More than that, the hype for Breath of the Wild built. Journalists posted early impressions claiming that the game was revolutionary. Still, I pushed a day-one purchase from my mind. On March 2, 2017, the first reviews came in, and I lost all hope of waiting. Breath of the Wild was being hailed as a masterpiece. It was a generation-defining game. A masochistic streak must have taken over me because I read each and every review, knowing that there were no Switches to be found. I had made a mistake. The hype bug had bitten me, and I was on the hunt for a Switch.
From launch day on, my phone and the Target website became my constant companions. In the morning, I’d check the stock of nearby stores only to be disappointed. Between classes, as my students strolled in, I’d greet them between stock inquiries. As I fell asleep, I’d hit that refresh button to see if perhaps my prayers had been answered only to have them dashed again.
Spring break started, and while I was having fun, the extra time also gave me more opportunities to obsess over my search. Day after day, my quest had been fruitless. I updated my family multiple times a day about my findings, driving them crazy with my own building madness. After annoying her one time too many, my loving wife exclaimed, “If you were going to want it so badly, why didn’t you just preorder it.” She had called me out. She was right, as is often the case. I had met a terrible fate by not preordering.
(Source: Zelda Wiki)
Late at night, while everyone else was asleep, I begrudgingly checked Target again. I expected the same familiar outcome. No Switches in stock and the resulting melancholy feeling. I was wrong. They said they had some. I wanted to jump in my car and brave the witching hour to get my prize, but the store was closed. I set my alarm, an occurrence that rarely happens during spring break, and I fitfully tried to sleep. Visions of Target employees buying them before the store opened and website inventory errors haunted me, but I eventually found sleep through pure exhaustion if nothing else.
Despite the lack of sleep, I absolutely bounded out of bed in the morning. The quest was on. I kept telling myself that they probably wouldn’t have any. I feared getting my hopes up. It was better to keep them in check to stave off further disappointment. When I got out of the shower, I found my wife and my daughter getting ready, too. They had lived through the hell of my manic Breath of the Wild search, and they wanted to be there for what would hopefully be the end of the search.
My wife dropped me off in front of Target hours before they opened. Trying to ward off the lingering sleep monsters, she drove off to get some coffee while I positively vibrated in the chilly morning air. Minutes passed. Hours went by. I watched employee after employee enter the store, starting their day while I impatiently waited outside like a child staring fitfully at the Christmas tree.
My family rejoined me with blessed coffee in tow, and a combination of nerves and caffeine kept me in a constant state of motion. My mind matched my body’s energy as I combatted doubt with hope while battling to keep my expectations in check. Other people seeking Switches had joined me as well, and my imagination went overboard creating visions of Mad Max-style races to the electronics section. Only some would emerge with the prize. It was at this moment that a bearded, red-shirted Target angel appeared and asked me, “Are you here for a Switch?”
I nervously answered in the affirmative, expecting to have my hopes dashed.
“We have at least twenty. You’ll all get one,” he said. I hope my smile and thanks conveyed at least a tenth of the positive emotions I held inside because I wanted to whoop and holler. Our quest was over. We’d be playing Breath of the Wild in a few hours.
(Source: Zelda Wiki)
I don’t remember the actual purchase and installation of the Switch. Happiness overwhelmed me. Not to devalue my wife and I’s wedding ceremony, but it was kind of like that. You’re so swept up in the emotions, the joy and the weariness, that the moments all blend together and all that remains is a general feeling.
What I do remember is booting up Breath of the Wild for the first time with my family sitting next to me. I remember exiting the Shrine of Resurrection and being absolutely enthralled before accidentally falling down the cliff and dying. More than anything, I remember my wife and daughter asking to play which was something out of the ordinary. They rarely played games, but something about this experience changed that. My daughter didn’t play for long. The Bokoblins scared her off. My wife was a different story though.
She was entranced, and I loved that our spring break was suddenly dominated by this amazing game. Each morning, we’d wake up and continue what ended up being a cooperative save file. One of us would play while the other watched, occasionally offering suggestions or helping with a puzzle. When that person tired of playing, the sword would be passed, and the quest would continue. Even once all Link’s memories had been restored, Zelda had been freed, and all the shrines had been conquered, my daughter now adds to our playtime hours as she hunts for dragon horns or observes the Lord of the Mountain from the bushes.
The search for a Switch was an intense time in my life as a fan. As I was typing this, my wife summed up her recollections of the time by saying, “Oh yeah. You were pretty annoying back then.” Lessons were learned, though. I won’t try to resist the siren’s call of the Zelda series when the inevitable Switch’s successor launches. To me, though, the real treasure of the quest to get a Switch has been all the time we’ve spent playing countless games together both during that spring break and today. We’ve become a family that games together. That’s a treasure more valuable to me than a hoard of Gold Rupees.
