It’s pretty much a universal given that people with any semblance of decency are expected to treat those with physical shortcomings and disabilities as we’d treat any other human being. Fortunately, they have support from a large company in their march towards equality. Nintendo, proving itself to be a firm supporter of progressive ideologies, cast a little person as the punchy protagonist in Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out!!
By all accounts, Little Mac should not have been a contender. He’s around 3’10, couldn’t have weighed more than 90 lbs, and frankly, doesn’t look all too bright, even for a boxer. How small is The Little One? Well, when facing off against hulking brutes like Soda Popinski, the little guy’s brow barely passes the big Russian’s alcohol-soaked taint (I’m not sure if that’s a positive or a negative).
The reason for his Liliputian stature was due to the NES’s limited graphics muscle. The arcade version of Punch-Out!! featured a wire-frame fighter that’s the same stature as his rivals. But the NES’ lack of transparencies forced those Japanese game geniuses to shrink the player’s character in order to keep the computer-controlled boxers visible. Had Nintendo not shrunk Mac to the size of Webster, his head and shoulders alone would’ve blotted out a good portion of the game field.
Despite his demure size, Mac had a heart the size of Conan O’Brien’s noggin. While the other fighters earned their reps with windmills, haymakers, and mystical abilities, Mac had to make due with the most fundamental of boxing techniques: two jabs, two body blows, and an uppercut if you were skilled enough to earn a star by catching your opponent off guard with a timely blow. I mean, seriously, you have to root for someone that has to leap with all of his might simply to land a crack on Glass Joe’s jaw.
If you were fortunate enough to blow through the game’s rather wonderful selection of ethnic and racial stereotypes in order to dance the deadly dance versus Iron Mike (perhaps I should say, if you made it; I know that there are a few stragglers out there that never took Tyson down), you can revel in the fact that the Baddest Man on the Planet was brought down by the most unlikeliest of champs. As a lifelong gamer, I consider it one of the crowning achievements in my thirtysomething years. To paraphrase the great Bill Walton, I peaked at age 12. Judge me not.
The make-believe psychologist in me could go on about Little Mac as the symbol of the lower classes as they strive to survive in a world dominated by the elite; Mac could also be seen as the representative of all the huddled masses who came to this country only to wage a bitter war of hatred against all peoples that look differently than themselves. But in the long run, all of the psychoanalyzing amounts to nothing as, ultimately, Little Mac’s is just a small, feisty person of an unidentifiable ethnic origin; kind of like Rhea Pearlman, only with slightly better hair. He may forever me able to order off any restaurant’s kids meal menu, but Little Mac will forever loom large in the hearts of old school sports gamers.


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