The Blog of esalazar26

Hey everyone,

Lately, I’ve found myself diving deeper into the well of memories — those warm, quiet places in the mind where childhood still lives, intact and patiently waiting to be remembered. I’ve shared bits and pieces before about growing up in the 90s, but recently, something in me — maybe becoming a father, maybe just a passing wave of nostalgia — has been pulling me back to revisit those days in fuller color.

I was born into a time of transition. On one hand, we inherited our parents' favorite cartoons: The Flintstones, Top Cat, Mazinger Z — shows that created a bridge between generations. And on the other, we were surrounded by a new wave of animated stories made just for us: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, C.O.P.S., and, of course, anime like Dragon Ball, Pokémon, and Digimon, broadcast by our local TV stations and quickly becoming part of our personal mythology.

I grew up playing outside with my siblings. After watching an episode of Captain Tsubasa, we’d run out into the backyard with a ball, dreaming we were Oliver Atom or Benji Price. Even my younger sister would join us, chasing the ball with the same determination. There was no such thing as boredom — our imagination filled every corner of the day.

At home, we had an old Betamax video player. I still remember this one tape — a movie about the Ewoks — that my siblings, cousins, and I would watch almost every day. It became part of our daily ritual. Later on, cable TV arrived, and that’s when we discovered true treasures: Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon. The only downside? There was just one TV in the living room with cable, so we had to share. But when we all agreed on what to watch, it became something really special.

At some point, we learned the value of saving money. I’ve mentioned before that we eventually bought a Super Nintendo (SNES), and it came bundled with two games: Killer Instinct and Super Street Fighter II. These were great, but also very common — everyone with a SNES had them, which made trading games pretty much impossible.

That’s when Blockbuster changed everything.

Thanks to weekend rentals, we explored new worlds beyond our own collection. Every Friday felt like an adventure. One day, they held a sidewalk sale, and I bought a Jurassic Park game, thinking it was the same one I had loved playing from a previous rental. But I was wrong. As soon as we booted it up, we realized it was a different version. My brother didn’t like it much, but I did — maybe because Jurassic Park was also the first movie I ever saw in a movie theater. That little detail made me want to enjoy the game, even if I never actually finished it.

And funny enough, that “wrong” game ended up becoming a gateway. Because it wasn’t popular, I started lending it to friends in exchange for other titles. That’s how I finally played Super Mario World, Donkey Kong Country (all three), Mortal Kombat, Zelda, and the game that would become a lifelong favorite: Mega Man X. Who would’ve thought that a simple mix-up would lead to something so rewarding?

As the SNES slowly faded out of popularity, we reached another big decision: should we go for the Nintendo 64 or the PlayStation? We chose the PlayStation, and honestly, I have no regrets. Sure, I got to play some N64 games at friends’ houses — or even at the McDonald’s demo stations — but PlayStation games were just easier to find and trade on the street. That accessibility gave us hundreds of new adventures.

Now, at 36 years old, married, and father to a two-year-old son, I can say that my love for video games is still alive. I don’t really consider myself a gamer, not in the modern sense, but the joy of gaming — of discovering new worlds, facing fun challenges, and sharing the experience with others — has never left me. I still find time to play. Every now and then, I meet up with old friends for mini-tournaments. We order pizza, sit back, and let ourselves become kids again, if only for a few hours.

Looking back, I realize that childhood isn’t just about what you lived, but about what stays with you. And for me, it’s the sounds of game controllers clicking, the laughter shared in a crowded living room, the weekend excitement of a new rental, and the warmth of a time when life felt simpler and fuller.

Thank you for reading. I’m grateful for spaces like this — where we can share more than stories. We share memories, pieces of our soul. Because remembering isn’t just looking back. It’s honoring who we are today because of where we’ve been.