This year’s E3 proved a valuable showcase for videogame companies to display their upcoming titles and gear – - we learned of the PSP Go, saw more footage of the gorgeous A Boy and His Blob remake, and saw the debut of New Super Mario Bros. Wii - -but what proved most intriguing to me was Tecmo’s announcement that it planned to revist the simple fun hoops games of yesteryear with Tecmo NBA Unrivaled.

This caught my attention because a) I’m frequently compaining to friends how complicated games have become (despite my absolute love of UFC Undisputed 2009, which should come with a coach to help you make it through the controls), and b) Tecmo Super NBA Basketball was one of my favorite hoops game of the 16-bit era. This got me to a-thinkin’ about all of the excellent old school sports games that I grew up with and how, in the era of photo-realistic 3D graphics and complex control schemes, these 2D gems aren’t getting the respect that they deserve.

As such, for the next few Fridays, I’ll be highlighting the most awesome of awesome 2D sports videogame athletes. There are the iconic game athletes that inspired an entire generation of sports gamers to talk smack, hurl controllers, and learn at an early age that hard work does not always translate into sucess. Let’s kick things off with Star Man.

“A winner is you!”

Never before in the history of mankind has a grammatically incorrect victory declaration become so entrenched in the hearts of youths in English-speaking nations worldwide. The year was 1985 and the Nintendo Entertainment system was spreading through America as fast as G.I. Joe and The Transformers combined. It was the system that any boy worth his weight in Pop Rocks desired; the Sega Master System was weak and for weenies. Among those early hits for the NES was a little gem known as Pro Wrestling, the first console grappler that didn’t suck.

The idea behind it is standard wrestling fare: 10 semi-nude fighters come together to tussle over a belt. But in a game that features such outrageous characters as a green-skinned man-beast, the way too tanned Giant Panther, and other assorted rejects that even the WWE wouldn’t touch, one man – - no, a GOD – - stood out from the rest of the freaks to become the first athlete truly worthy of the system’s high status and an entry into this series: the intergalactic badass known as Starman.

Why is Starman so respected by an entire generation of sports gamers? As with many areas of life, appearance is everything, and Starman is purple. As Prince or any Barney-or-Teletubby-loving child can attest, that is 100% pure awesomeness. Many have mistakenly believed that he wore a purple mask, but that’s just plain wrong. Blow the dust of your NES and pop in your Pro Wrestling cart; unless the dude’s wearing an grape-flavored full body condom, he’s purple. And has a star tattooed on his face. That’s a combination no child can resist.

Although Starman excels at all matter purple, that’s not why he’s gained mention here. Out of the ten controllable in-game characters, Starman had the most spectacular moveset. King Slender’s pile driver? A horrid, pathetic joke. The Amazon’s face-bite? The mark of a savage. They all bow before Starman’s Flying Elbow Smash of Freaking Doom.

Any Pro Wrestling aficionado remembers the maneuver. That’s where he Irish Whips a jobber to the ropes, runs to the opposite ropes, rebounds off of them, and nails his foe with an airborne forearm. Players cowered whenever they saw Starman in motion because they knew that at any second he could transform into a super-human cruise missile. But it was Starman’s second signature move that really made kids pop.

Locking up with a rival and then hitting Down + B unleashed the single most mindblowing move of 1985-Starman’s patented Flip-kick. As a youngster reared on a diet of televised wrassling’s obviously fake kicks and punches, seeing someone (even if it was a character in a roughly animated, 8-bit videogame) catch air with a drop kick, backflip out of that, and then proceed to safely land on his feet was the Bullettime of my youth. And as Brent Harris, my best friend at the time, could unfortunately verify, I spammed the living hell out of it.

The beat downs I served him, in retrospect, were unnecessarily cruel even by my sadistic player vs. player standards. I would wear his King Korn Karn down to the point where he lacked the stamina to put up much of a fight and then Flip-kick him a good, oh, 20-30 times in a row. Controllers were thrown, curses were hurled, and I laughed until I could hit Down + B no longer.

I haven’t spoken to Mr. Harris in over twenty years due to his relocation to Florida during our junior high school years, but a small part of me always wonders if the reason why I was never invited down to Ft. Lauderdale for a visit was because he feared that I’d bring my NES and copy of Pro Wrestling, and he’ have to endure Starman taking flight once again. Can’t say I blame the guy. If I’d been similarly abused, I’d probably do the same.