I fell off the GOTY bandwagon this year, and all of the adjacent listicles I drafted ("Gaming Highlights", "Favorite Moments," etc.) withered on the vine. With that being said, I'd still like to reflect on my year and the games I played.

2025 was going to be the year of arcade games, an expectation cemented by the fight stick I picked up in December, 2024. UFO 50 grabbed my attention, shmupTube* hooked me, and my own ego reeled me in. I had sipped the "hardcore" Kool-Aid, conflated interest with mastery. Could I be a fan of beat-em-ups without a Final Fight 1CC under my belt? I still struggle with that false equivalence, as if my enthusiasm must be proven with 1CCs or Platinum Trophies. Is my enjoyment dependent on completion, or is completion a product of my enjoyment? Regardless of the answer, I'm hoping to strike a better balance in 2026.

Dynamic enemies are a feat of design,
but make consistent performance a headache.

From January to April, that tryhard attitude (exacerbated by less-than-stellar mental health) cast a shadow over many a game. Virtua Fighter 5 R.E.V.O. had me painting the air blue (to my roommates: I am so, so sorry), but my temper didn't stop there. I was pissy with Final Fight for being too hard, Peace Walker for being too easy, Radiant Dawn for being too long, and Downwell for being too short. There were some bright spots—namely Children of Clay, Klonoa, and Skin Deep—, though at the time, they felt like betrayals of my "hardcore" ambitions.

The night that my roommate and I played through Children of Clay
remains a highlight from the year.

Morale improved after graduation in May as I emerged from my funk, and the summer was dominated by Persona 5 Royal. I'd saved P5 for that post-graduation limbo, hopeful that a game of rhythms—the passing of the days, the cyclical crescendo and decrescendo of the narrative—would help anchor me during a cross-country move, a job search, and a new normal.

Persona 4's city-kid-in-small-town narrative would've been more apropos,
but P5 still ruled.

It did! Twice!

After a month (it felt way longer) in the Southwest tweaking resumes and recycling cover letters, I was blessed/spoiled/privileged with an out-of-the-blue chance to move to the Midwest. New job, new town, new culture. It took a while to adjust, but fast-forward six months and I've started the certification process for my job, found community, and fortified my knowledge base of Midwesternisms ("warsh," "diabeetus," etc.).

In the thick of all that "new"—from May to August and from Southwest to Midwest—, Persona 5 was there, a nightly dose of serotonin to smooth over the transition. And to that end, rolling credits felt like a graduation, of sorts. Having carved out my own routines, I no longer needed the quiet constancy of the Phantom Thieves.

Despelote was another heavy hitter from that transition period, bringing to the fore memories of my semester in Quito, Ecuador. I tend to roll my eyes when "immersive" is thrown around in games discussion, but no other word does justice to Despelote's audio design. I kept my eyes closed for most of my playthrough, letting my own memories hum with the sounds of the city, the casual conversations (each chock-full of quiteñismos, of course). ¡Qué pena que no existiera la canción de gas en 2002!

Despelote turns you loose in the streets of Quito
to chat with your neighbors and sow chaos.

I'd be lying to say that my waxing nostalgic didn't miss the point; Despelote is a game about the memories we inherit rather than the ones we make, but that didn't deter me from hijacking Julián Cordero's semi-autobiography and grafting on my own experiences. Wheeeeee!

I also played through and loved The Witness and Logic Bombs this summer, which together moved the needle away from "the year of arcade games" and towards "the year of puzzle games."

Almost 10 years later,
The Witness *still* has some of the medium's best usage of 3D space.

Rounding out the fall, Hardhat Wombat and Lumines Remastered, as arcade/puzzle hybrids, returned that needle to the halfway mark. Lumines in particular remains one of my favorite games from this year, marrying the elegant design and visual pizzazz of arcade games with just the right degree of braininess. The grind towards mastery tickles my pickle (forgive me) in a way that The Witness' aha moments can't match.

Without enemy AI to contend with,
Lumines' skill ceiling is much more tangible than Final Fight's.

And here we are at the trailhead of 2026!

My fight stick's been collecting dust, emblematic of a year where each of my expectations and attitudes was turned on its head. I've moved from East to West to Mid, drawn and redrawn social circles, and had beliefs, preconceptions, and tastes challenged time and again. Thank you to the friends and family who have put up with me; you've given me a lot of grace this year, and you continue to be an immense blessing—far more of an anchor during times of transition than Persona 5 (or any video game) could hope to be. And thank YOU, dear reader, for trudging through this self-indulgent exercise in futility. :)

I sincerely hope the blessings you receive in 2026 are as immediately visible as mine have been in 2025.


*TEU makes many excellent points, but operates within a very narrow spectrum of taste.