While getting Christmas decorations from our attic a while back, I found a relic that probably contributed to my brother’s divorce.

At first, I merely looked at it with nostalgic fascination. But a few weeks later, it called out to me: Hey – remember me? We had some great times together, didn’t we?

I couldn’t lie; we did. So I pulled down the attic stairs and spotted it in a plastic crate.

My old Sega Genesis.

Well, technically, my brother bought the thing back in 1993. But it’s mine now. And, after plugging it in, I was elated to see that it still works – though sometimes you have to nudge it a little.

As I queued up the “NHLPA Hockey 93″ game, all sorts of memories came to mind. You see, my brother and I – we played a lot of Sega hockey. We played against each other, against the computer, and against my friend Eric. And while you may think that it was just a video game, things could get pretty heated.

A night of Sega hockey would normally start with me going over to my brother’s house and him saying, somewhat robotically: “Start it up.” Then after each game, he’d say something like, “Start it up.” Over and over and over until it just got crazy.

He was addicted, man.

And, yeah – me too.

Ironically, I’ve always hated hockey. Basically, it’s the ice equivalent of soccer, except you get the occasional UFC-like fight. Yet, because of Sega hockey, I knew every team’s roster from 1993 — and every player’s stats, strengths and weaknesses.

Sometimes I’d find myself even talking to the players, saying things like, “Belfour, you SUCK!”

And my brother was equally guilty.

“Get that dickhead outta’ there!” he’d yell, calling for the removal of Steve Smith, the Chicago
Blackhawks’s toughest player, who couldn’t shoot a puck into Lake Michigan if he tried.

Of course, while Sega Smith couldn’t find the goal if he were standing in it, there is one thing he could do with unparalleled skill: punch faces. Hence, if someone like Wayne Gretzky (back in the L.A. Kings days) or Mario Lemieux scored on your goalie with cruel consistency, you could put Smith in, and they’d be seeing red.

Because the thing about Sega Hockey? When a guy lost a fight, he would fall, and blood would pour from his head to the ice.

How freakin’ cool is that?

Okay, I know that sounds bad. But sometimes in a world where you have little control, it’s nice to be able to control things. It was kind of like being the god of the video hockey world, except there’s no way to send any of the players to hell (though surely Smith would be the first to go).

As my brother and I fervently wasted hours and hours playing Sega hockey, I realized something I had completely forgotten: My brother was married.

With kids.

This became more clear when his wife began to complain about his time spent plugged in. At first, there were a few comments here and there. Then she started to treat me differently.
I guess she felt in general like she wasn’t getting enough attention or something. And, well . . . eventually, she got it from someone else.

So my memories of Sega hockey aren’t all good. And as I plugged it into the TV last night, I had to remind myself that I wouldn’t get carried away. I wouldn’t allow it to take time away from the family.

But the first time Steve Smith clobbers a member of the New York Islanders, I’ll give a little nod to my brother and remember how we won the Stanley Cup back in ’93.