I have played Zelda games for about as long as I can remember. Every single one of them pre-Skyward Sword has played a massive part in my early childhood, and I love all of them. But if you were to ask anyone who knows me what my favorite is, and which one I know the best, they would definitely tell you that it’s Ocarina of Time.
I love this game so much and I’ve played it so many times that I’ve honestly lost track. From when I used to watch my older sister play it as a three-year-old to now, I always make sure to play through the game at least once each year. I own multiple versions of it, each one I’ve 100% completed several times, and I’m pretty sure I have what you would call “encyclopedic” knowledge of the game. You wouldn’t know it from watching me play it back when I was a kid, though.
I know I shouldn’t be too critical of myself, but thinking back on it: Even when I was a child, I honestly still can’t believe I got stuck on something so simple. Picture this: It’s 2003, I’m inside Jabu Jabu’s Belly, and I just beat the Big Octo mini-boss. I ride up the elevator, maybe pick up a Fairy on the way, then run through the hallway and jump on the platform across the room, which sends it downward. This makes a pathway directly to a locked door with a blue switch in front of it.
Now, I understood the concept: I had to set something on the blue switches to keep the door unlocked, so I could get through. Unfortunately, this is where little me got stuck for — I kid you not — nearly three years. I remember coming back to that same save file for months, trying everything I could to get that door open.
I tried to find Princess Ruto, but as far as I could tell, she was just straight up gone after the Big Octo fight, so that didn’t work. I tried putting a bomb down on the switch to keep it pressed so I could walk forward, but apparently, a literal explosive device filled with at least five pounds of gunpowder isn’t heavy enough. I tried throwing the Boomerang at the door to cut the lock off, I tried blowing it up, shooting it with the Slingshot, dropped bugs to try and get them to pick the lock on the door (don’t judge me), offered the door a Magic Bean out of pure desperation (don’t judge me), I played every single song I could think of — I did just about every single thing possible and nothing was getting that door open.
And that’s basically how it stayed for nearly three years. My older sister was at college so I couldn’t ask her, the internet wasn’t fully developed yet so I couldn’t exactly look it up, and I had the guide but of course, eight-year-old me never had the patience to read through that thing. Hilariously, of all the things that would finally give me a hint, it was school that gave me the inspiration I needed.
I remember we were watching some Magic School Bus episode about shapes or something, and of course, I wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, I was thinking about Ocarina of Time and that stupid door again. But at one point I saw one of the characters in the show using a block to hold something down — and then it hit me.
The second my bus got home, I darted as fast as I could to my room, popped in the game, and I saw it: There were two boxes sitting right there, near the door. I picked one up, put it on the switch — and it finally stayed open! I couldn’t believe it. Even back then I thought to myself, “Wow, how stupid am I?”
From there, the rest of the dungeon was easy, and I wouldn’t have any issues at all for the rest of the game (except for the Water Temple, but I mean, it’s the Water Temple.) The moral of the story? Always be aware of your surroundings, especially in video games.
