The biggest problem with great games is how everbody is always jabbering on about how damn wonderful they are. Which got us thinking: surely even the very finest videogames must have the odd blemish on their flawless complexions, the occasional fly in an otherwise unspoiled tub of ointment?

It’s not necessarily an easy job recalling these jarring annoyances, mainly because great games are considered great for a reason: you tend to have only fond memories of playing them. Yet if you think about it hard enough, past all the hours of joy your very favourite games gave you, it’s possible to find a chink in the armour of them all. Except Pilotwings 64 of course, which is plainly the only perfect game ever created… OK, the Jumble Hoppers sucked a little bit.

Anyway, hit the jump to see what really got GamerSquad’s goat in the likes of Goldeneye, Half-Life, Halo, and Zelda: Ocarina of Time.


The Klobb in Goldeneye 007 (N64, 1997)
This peashooter of a gun from Rare's wonderful Bondian adventure quickly assumed the status of a joke weapon amongst fans, and as soon as you picked one up, it was easy to understand why. While we’ll admit it had a reasonable rate of fire, the Klobb (named after former Nintendo staffer Ken Lobb) felt unreservedly lightweight, and fired rounds that barely registered with the N64’s rumble pak.

Its effect on enemies was similarly underwhelming (this says it all really), with multiple headshots required to take even the lowest rank-and-file Soviet troop down; we seriously doubt it could have perforated a meringue at the first time of asking. Indeed, back in 1997, multiplayer Goldeneye sessions would often be punctuated with groans from the poor saps who picked up the redundant grey weapon, closely followed by cackles from their RC-P90-sporting opponents. Mind you, at least it had an element of comedy to it. Unlike…


Elvis in Perfect Dark (N64, 2000)
Perfect Dark's grey-skinned Maian makes a compelling case for being the most exasperating, annoying peripheral character ever to appear in a videogame. It's not just that he’s an absolute fricken’ nightmare to both fight with (he constantly gets in the way) and defend; after all, if that were the case, then Natalya from Goldeneye would be on this list.

No, it's also his numerous, desperately unfunny quips ("I have a headache, and with a head this big, that's no joke" - OH, JUST DIE WON’T YOU), a constant source of irritation that makes you wish you could somehow leap into the screen and push his eyes into the back of his stupid skull with your thumbs. Fortunately, a double shotgun blast to the noggin is always a safe bet. Hurray.


Voldo in Soulcalibur (Dreamcast, 1999)
Just try using him against a friend. Case closed.


Gold Skulltula subquest in Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (N64, 1998)
Look Nintendo, credit where it’s due: yes, you created what is widely regarded as the greatest videogame ever fashioned by the hands of man, the game that countless fans and critics hold up as a shining beacon of towering game design, and the title that tops virtually every ‘Top 100 Greatest Videogames Ever’ poll. We’ll give you this much: it’s pretty damn good.

But the Gold Skulltula quest, Nintendo. WHY?

Almost anyone who’s played Ocarina of Time for more than a couple of hours will have encountered these golden arachnids. They only appear at night, are scattered all over Hyrule, and are the focus point of one of the most inane, meaningless videogame subquests ever conceived, with the player having to kill as many as possible to win prizes from a family under the Skulltula curse.

But wait up, that doesn’t sound so meaningless, you might say. Why, saving a family from a horrible spidery curse is a lovely act, Chrissy.

Well first of all, don’t call me Chrissy - I hate it. And saving families is all well and good, but listen: 200 rupees for finding all 100 of the damn things? IS THAT IT?You do realise how long it takes to locate and knock off a ton of Skulltulas, right? And you are aware of how much less time it would take me to get those rupees through some fervent grass-chopping?


Jumping in Half-Life (PC, 1998)
Precision jumping in first-person shooters: it shouldn’t work. And it doesn’t! Not that this discouraged Valve from putting a number of incredibly awkward jumping sequences in its classic 1998 first-person shooter - one that involved leaping across suspended crates will forever lurk in the very darkest recesses of my memory.

Let’s just say that the chap who invented quicksaving also helped my PC monitor avoid an unpleasant, close-up introduction to the nearest pavement.


The Library in Halo (Xbox, 2001)
Yes, yes, I fully realise the Library level in Bungie’s Xbox shooter is an easy target for my ire, and one that is commonly criticised by others, but that doesn’t save it from appearing here.

After all, in a game packed with levels full of marvellously varied, open combat, the Library is one hell of a dreary nadir, an overly dark network of identikit corridors that you navigate with the Monitor, a flying hunk ‘o junk that insists on singing to itself until the vein in the side of your head is close to bursting point with the godforsaken frustration of it all. Doing it all on Legendary difficulty is the very definition of gaming purgatory.


The ENDLESS cut-scenes in Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty (PlayStation 2, 2001)
It would take a brave man to dispute that Hideo Kojima knows a thing or two about making games, but you do have to occasionally wonder why he doesn’t just pick up a camera and start making films instead. We must have touched the DualShock all of three times in the first two hours of Sons of Liberty. There’s a place for such activities. It’s called the cinema.


So, there you have it folks - the slightly rubbish bits in your favourite games that nobody quite seems to remember. Hope we didn’t quash too many happy memories out there - let us know your thoughts in the comments!