That’s it then. Nintendo fans’ Christmas gifts have come three months early and, whether they liked them or not, that rounds out the announcement season for 2026. We will more than likely have to wait until at least February for any new major announcements from the Big N, and so what we have gathered from the last two days is what we will have to simmer on until then. What we got, however, has made some people delighted and others wishing there was just one more present hiding underneath the tree. Over the past two days, we have been spoilt with two presentations: one specifically for The Legend of Zelda’s 40th Anniversary celebrations, detailing all of the ways Nintendo plans to honour this legendary franchise’s birthday, and the other being a General Nintendo Direct primarily focusing on the games coming out this winter and beyond for the Switch 2. There probably won’t be a two-day period like this for Nintendo fans ever again. We went through an unprecedented time where, after one Direct, we could immediately look forward to another one the day after, assuming you were a Zelda fan of course (and who isn’t?). The duality of the Directs caused plenty of speculation amongst fans wondering why Nintendo had to split its announcements across two days instead of combining them into one much larger, beefier presentation. People started speculating that we may see the announcement of the next 3D Mario, the next Smash Bros., perhaps even GTA VI on the system. Um, no. What ended up happening quickly divided the community (shock), and for me at least, made Nintendo’s current strategy for these presentations abundantly clear. Don’t get me wrong, if you end up leaving a Direct feeling it was the best thing since sliced bread, more power to you. There were absolutely things across the presentation that I loved, and there are games shown that I cannot wait to play but judging by the reaction online I’m hardly alone in thinking that something about the modern Nintendo Direct just isn’t working anymore. These ‘Nintendo’ Directs Don’t Feel ‘Nintendo’ Anymore I think the biggest problem is relatively easy to identify, these “Nintendo” Directs don’t feel particularly “Nintendo” anymore. It has almost become a surprise when a game that is actually first-party turns up in one, and even then you are rolling a 20-sided dice to see whether it happens to be the franchise you care about. These Directs increasingly feel like a cake full of third-party games with a tiny bit of first-party sprinkled on top, rather than a Nintendo showcase supported by some of the biggest games coming from elsewhere. As good as having strong third-party support is, especially during the first few years of the Switch 2’s life, it feels like it is overpowering everything else. This isn’t me saying third-party support is bad either, because it absolutely isn’t. Nintendo has historically struggled to attract some of the industry’s biggest games to its hardware, and seeing the Switch 2 supported properly by other publishers is a massive positive for the console. The latest Direct alone featured names including Persona 6, Monster Hunter Wilds, Final Fantasy VII Revelation and several Resident Evil games alongside Nintendo's own software. While getting games of that calibre onto Nintendo hardware is exactly what I wanted from the Switch 2, the problem isn’t that these games are there, it’s how much of the presentation third-party software now occupies. In the three Directs post-Switch 2’s release, there have been stretches of 10 or 15 minutes where I find myself waiting for Nintendo to turn up in its own presentation. More games does not equal a better Direct, particularly when the games people have tuned in specifically to see are spread so thinly across a 45-minute runtime. It shouldn’t be the case that you go into a Nintendo presentation of that length hoping for more than two genuinely new first-party game announcements, because that is essentially what we got this time: Metroid Ravenous and Kirby and the World Beyond. Firstly, I love both of these franchises, so that is a massive win for me, and I will play and adore both. Unfortunately though, they became wedged between so much other stuff that neither left as big an impact on me as they probably should have. Has Nintendo Actually Stopped Announcing Games? This is where the discussion gets interesting, though, because one Nintendo fan on X, KabiPlays, decided to do some research into every new first-party game announcement across every General Direct of the Switch era. The results actually challenge the idea that the problem is as simple as “Nintendo used to announce loads of games and now it doesn’t.” There were General Directs during the Switch’s first year with no new first-party announcements at all, while March 2018, E3 2019, September 2021 and February 2023 apparently contained only one each. But look at what some of those solitary announcements actually were. March 2018 gave us Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, and E3 2019 revealed the sequel to Breath of the Wild that eventually became Tears of the Kingdom. You don't necessarily need four or five new Nintendo games for a Direct to be remembered if the one game you do reveal is capable of blowing the roof off the presentation. I certainly don't remember watching that E3 2019 Direct and thinking, “Well, technically Nintendo only announced one new first-party game.” There have also been presentations absolutely stacked with new Nintendo announcements. According to the tweet, February 2021 had five, E3 2021 had four, February 2022 had four, June 2023 had five and June 2024 had four. More recently, that dropped to three in September 2025, three again in June 2026 and now two in September 2026. That doesn't prove Nintendo has suddenly stopped making or announcing games, especially when the numbers have fluctuated throughout the Direct's history but combined with everything surrounding those reveals it does help explain why these presentations can feel much lighter on Nintendo than their runtimes would have you believe. And I think that distinction is important. My problem isn't necessarily that Nintendo has suddenly fallen off a cliff in terms of the number of games it announces. It's that fewer major first-party reveals, combined with longer stretches of third-party content, updates for existing games, Switch 2 Editions and ports, can leave a General Direct feeling less like a Nintendo event. There might technically be plenty to show, but that doesn't mean everything being shown carries the same weight. The Switch 2 Is Getting Games — Just Not Always New Ones That brings me to another issue with the third-party focus: a lot of these games aren't actually new. Again, bringing older games to Switch 2 is objectively a good thing for the console. If, like me, you primarily play on Nintendo hardware and missed something because it previously skipped the Switch, suddenly having access to it is brilliant, while a strong back catalogue makes the Switch 2 a much more attractive system in the long term. But if you own a PlayStation, Xbox or PC alongside your Nintendo console, there are portions of these Directs where you are essentially watching an advert for something you have already had the opportunity to play. Monster Hunter Wilds, for example, launched on PlayStation 5, Xbox and PC in February 2025 and is now coming to Switch 2 in December 2026. Cairn similarly released elsewhere in January before its Switch 2 version, while the latest presentation also featured Switch 2 versions of Resident Evil titles and other existing games. There is a huge difference, at least to me, between an unreleased Persona 6 and Kingdom Hearts IV being confirmed for Switch 2 and an older game finally being ported across. Both are important for the console, and both technically expand its library, but only one feels like the sort of announcement capable of getting me excited during a General Nintendo Direct. When you combine older ports with Switch 2 Editions, DLC, updates, previously announced games and genuinely new releases, suddenly a presentation containing dozens upon dozens of games can produce surprisingly few moments where I feel like I've actually discovered something new. The latest Direct is a pretty good example of that. Alongside its brand-new games, Nintendo showed a Definitive Edition of Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity, a Switch 2 Edition of Pikmin 4, a Switch 2 Edition of Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and updates for existing titles including Mario Kart World, Pokémon Pokopia and Star Fox. None of those things are inherently bad announcements, apart from the fact Hyrule Warriors isn’t a Switch 2 addition, thanks Nintendo. The thing is, if you stack them alongside older third-party releases, suddenly a very long Direct can start to feel more like a catalogue than an event. Nintendo and Its Fans Expect Different Things From a Direct I think this is where Nintendo's biggest problem lies. Nintendo and the people watching its presentations seemingly have two very different definitions of what a Nintendo Direct actually is. For Nintendo, the thinking appears straightforward: these are games and experiences coming to Nintendo Switch 2, therefore they belong in a Nintendo Direct. Whether that game is exclusive, multiplatform, brand new or several years old doesn't necessarily change its importance to Nintendo because it is another reason for somebody to buy and use its console. Fans don't necessarily see it that way. When Nintendo announces a 45-minute General Direct, nobody starts fantasising about the software catalogue becoming marginally more comprehensive. We think Mario. We think Zelda. We think Metroid, Kirby, Animal Crossing, Donkey Kong, Splatoon and, inevitably, Smash Bros. You start wondering what dormant franchise Nintendo could randomly resurrect or whether that rumoured game you've been waiting years for is finally about to appear. Some of that is absolutely our own fault, but what would the fun be if we stopped hyping ourselves up for these things? They only come around three times a year, so they are big events for us fans. It also helps that we are exceptionally talented at taking practically no evidence whatsoever and somehow convincing ourselves that the next 3D Mario, Smash Bros., F-Zero and Mother 3 are all about to be announced within the same 45-minute period. The speculation surrounding these things is half of the fun, but Nintendo has also spent more than a decade establishing the General Nintendo Direct as the place where enormous announcements can happen. Once you establish that reputation, you inevitably create expectations every time that red screen appears, and ESPECIALLY when they say the magic words: “Please look at this…”. That explains how a presentation containing genuinely exciting games like Persona 6, Metroid Ravenous and Kirby and the World Beyond can still leave some people disappointed. The individual games aren't necessarily the problem; the expectation created by the words “Nintendo Direct” is. Nintendo seemingly sees these presentations as a showcase for the Switch ecosystem, while a sizeable portion of its audience still sees them primarily as a showcase for Nintendo itself. Isn’t This What Partner Showcases Are For? This is perhaps what confuses me most about the current approach, because Nintendo already has a format specifically designed to avoid this problem: the Nintendo Direct Partner Showcase. If Nintendo announces one of those, you know exactly what you're getting. Nobody watches 25 minutes of a Partner Showcase before furiously asking where the next 3D Mario is because Nintendo has already told you that isn't what the presentation is for. The same applies elsewhere. Indie World exists for independent developers, Pokémon gets Pokémon Presents, and individual games and franchises can receive dedicated presentations, as The Legend of Zelda has just demonstrated with its 40th Anniversary Direct. Nintendo has created a collection of different presentation formats that allow people to broadly understand what they are about to watch before they click play, which makes it even stranger when a General Direct starts to feel increasingly like several of those formats bundled together. I'm not suggesting Nintendo should ban third-party games from General Directs, because that would be ridiculous. Persona 6 absolutely deserves to be there. A huge previously unannounced game coming to Nintendo hardware deserves to be there. Major third-party support should be celebrated because it shows just how much healthier Nintendo's relationship with outside publishers has become. But surely there has to be a distinction between those announcements and spending valuable General Direct time telling us about every older port and smaller release coming to the system. Nintendo Is Keeping Its Cards Close To Its Chest There is, however, another side to all of this, and it's one where I actually think Nintendo's new strategy is better than it used to be. Nintendo appears to be keeping its cards much closer to its chest during the Switch 2 era, with Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave set to be one of the first games to have around a full year between its initial reveal and eventual release. Even then, that wait doesn't feel particularly ridiculous compared with some of the announcements we endured during the original Switch generation. Too many games during that era were announced only for us to hear very little about them for years afterwards. Tears of the Kingdom was first teased in 2019 and didn't arrive until 2023, while Metroid Prime 4 became the ultimate cautionary tale after being announced in 2017 before Nintendo revealed in 2019 that development was effectively being restarted. COVID obviously didn't make that period any easier, but it isn't difficult to imagine Nintendo looking at those experiences and deciding that showing games closer to release is simply a safer approach. And truthfully, I agree with them. I'd rather Nintendo reveal a game when it has a reasonably good idea of when I can actually play it than show me a logo, disappear into the darkness and ask me to come back several years later. The problem is the knock-on effect this philosophy potentially has on the Direct itself. If Nintendo has several major games in development but isn't willing to show them until they're six or nine months from release, then there simply isn't as much first-party material available to fill a 45-minute presentation at any one time. That could also explain why the latest Direct was relatively restrained when looking beyond spring 2027. Nintendo's own recap puts Metroid Ravenous in January and Kirby and the World Beyond in spring, while many of the other first-party segments concerned games or content we already knew about. I would be amazed if Nintendo doesn't have considerably more in development behind closed doors, but if its policy is to keep those games secret until they're relatively close, third-party publishers inevitably have to fill more of the gaps. Ironically, then, Nintendo might have improved the way it announces individual games while making the overall Nintendo Direct less exciting in the process. I don't want another Metroid Prime 4 situation where I'm waiting the best part of a decade to actually play something I've been shown, but I also don't want to sit through 45 minutes waiting for Nintendo to reveal the games it clearly isn't ready to talk about. There has to be a middle ground somewhere. Would We Still Be Complaining If Mario Showed Up? That does make me wonder, though: would I even be writing this article if yesterday's Direct had ended differently? Imagine essentially the exact same presentation. Keep all of the third-party games, the older ports, the updates and Metroid Ravenous exactly where they were, but when the time came for that famous “one more thing”, instead of Kirby and the World Beyond closing the show, Mario appeared on screen. After nearly nine years without a completely new 3D adventure following Super Mario Odyssey, I find it difficult to believe the reaction afterwards would have been anywhere near as negative. That isn't me criticising Kirby either. I love the franchise and I'm excited to see what the World Beyond ends up being, but there are levels to the impact a Nintendo announcement can have. A new 3D Kirby is exciting; the first new 3D Mario in almost a decade would be an event. Suddenly, every complaint about the preceding 40 minutes would have been fighting for attention with the fact that Nintendo had finally revealed one of the most anticipated games it could possibly announce. Maybe that's because the best Nintendo Directs aren't necessarily remembered for everything they contained. I could barely tell you what happened during the March 2018 Direct apart from one thing: that Smash Bros. reveal is permanently ingrained into my skull. The burning Smash logo reflecting in the Inkling's eye is one of those Nintendo moments I'll probably remember forever. The same applies to E3 2019. I don't immediately associate that presentation with a list of games; I remember the final reveal and the words: “The sequel to the Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is now in development”. That's something I've struggled to find with the last few General Directs. If you put them all in front of me and asked me to distinguish which third-party game, port or update appeared in which presentation, I'd probably struggle. They increasingly blend into one another because they follow such a similar formula, and while the new Nintendo games being announced can still excite me, they haven't quite had the power to give each presentation its own identity. That isn't an insult to Metroid Ravenous, Kirby and the World Beyond, Xenoblade Genesis or any of the other first-party games Nintendo has announced recently Metroid and Xenoblade are two of my favourite Nintendo franchises, so this isn't coming from a lack of interest in the games being announced. But there's a difference between being excited for a game and witnessing an announcement that makes you completely forget about the previous 40 minutes. Smash can do that. Zelda can do that. Mario can do that. There are only a handful of Nintendo franchises with that sort of power, and the recent Directs simply haven't had one. Perhaps that's why the numbers from KabiPlays' research don't tell the entire story. March 2018 apparently only contained one newly announced first-party game, but that game was Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. E3 2019 also only had one, but it was the sequel to Breath of the Wild. On paper, yesterday's two new first-party announcements therefore beats both of them. I don't think many people would seriously argue that made yesterday's Direct more memorable. And maybe that's ultimately what these recent Directs are missing: an identity. Years later, I can point towards certain presentations and immediately remember the moment. Recently, it has become harder to distinguish one General Direct from another because they increasingly feel like variations of the same presentation with plenty of games, plenty of third-party support, a few Nintendo announcements, but rarely that one moment everybody is still talking about years later. Would replacing Kirby with a new 3D Mario actually fix all of the problems I've mentioned? No. In fact, that's precisely the point. The older ports would have been exactly the same. The lengthy third-party sections would have been exactly the same. My questions about what separates a General Direct from a Partner Showcase would have been exactly the same. Only the final few minutes would have changed, yet I suspect the entire presentation would have been remembered differently. Of course, there is an obvious problem with that argument: not every Nintendo Direct can end with Mario, Zelda or Smash Bros. Nor should they. These games take years to develop, and part of the reason their reveals carry so much weight is because they don't happen very often. If Nintendo wheeled out one of its biggest franchises every six months just to rescue a General Direct, those moments would eventually stop feeling quite so special. A great Nintendo Direct shouldn't need Mario to save it. There are plenty of other ways to create a memorable presentation, whether that's reviving a dormant franchise, revealing something completely unexpected or simply having enough strong Nintendo announcements throughout the show that the presentation doesn't depend on one enormous closer. Metroid Dread wasn't a new 3D Mario. Kirby and the Forgotten Land wasn't Zelda. Nintendo has dozens of franchises and, more importantly, some of its best announcements have been games nobody knew they wanted until they appeared on screen. That's why I don't think the solution is simply “announce Mario and everyone will shut up.” A new 3D Mario probably would have completely changed the reaction to yesterday's Direct, but Nintendo shouldn't need it to. If replacing the final five minutes of an otherwise identical 45-minute presentation is enough to completely transform how that entire Direct is remembered, perhaps the bigger problem is that the other 40 minutes aren't creating enough memorable moments of their own. And that is where these recent Directs struggle for me. They aren't necessarily bad presentations, nor are the games being announced bad games. They just increasingly lack an identity. When the megaton isn't there to carry the show, the current formula of third-party games, older ports, updates and a handful of new Nintendo announcements becomes much more noticeable. The question I'm asking after a Direct isn't necessarily “where was Mario?” It's “where was the moment?”. Nintendo Directs Need To Feel Like Events Again Maybe the answer is simply to make General Directs shorter. If Nintendo only has 25 or 30 minutes of genuinely substantial material worth showing, give me a 25 or 30-minute Direct. I'd much rather finish a shorter presentation wanting more than finish a 45-minute one wondering which ten minutes could have been removed. More doesn't equal better. I remember seeing countless posts when Nintendo announced an hour-long Direct last year, with people immediately assuming it had to be incredible simply because of its runtime. That wasn't the case. Older ports and smaller third-party announcements can still have their moment in Partner Showcases, while General Directs could be saved for the biggest third-party reveals and Nintendo's own major announcements. Because when Nintendo Directs are good, there is genuinely nothing else in gaming quite like them. The best ones feel like events. There's an unpredictability to watching that transition appear between games and having absolutely no idea whether you're about to see something relatively small or an announcement that sends the entire internet into meltdown. Smash Bros. Ultimate, Tears of the Kingdom, Metroid Dread, Kirby and the Forgotten Land and countless others created those moments over the Switch generation, and that's why expectations are so ridiculously high whenever Nintendo announces another presentation. Of course nostalgia plays a part. Not every Switch-era Direct was 40 minutes of consecutive megatons, and the research from KabiPlays proves that some of those presentations contained surprisingly few new Nintendo announcements. But I don't think nostalgia explains everything. Increasingly, I can watch 45 minutes of a Nintendo Direct, see several games that I genuinely think look good, add a couple to my wishlist and somehow still leave thinking: “Was that it?”. That's ultimately why I don't think the current formula works. Third-party support isn't the problem. Ports aren't the problem. Nintendo keeping its biggest games secret until closer to release isn't the problem either. Individually, I'd argue all three are actually good things for the Switch 2. It's the combination of them inside the General Direct format that creates the issue, with fewer major Nintendo reveals surrounded by games available elsewhere, updates, rereleases and ports until the things I actually tuned in for risk getting lost amongst everything else. The Switch 2 needs those games. It needs publishers to see Nintendo hardware as somewhere their biggest releases can thrive rather than as an afterthought, and the sheer breadth of software shown in the latest presentation demonstrates just how much is coming to the system. But a healthy release calendar and an entertaining Nintendo Direct are not necessarily the same thing. Nintendo Directs used to leave me wondering what Nintendo was going to announce next. Increasingly, I find myself wondering when Nintendo is going to announce something next. So perhaps Nintendo fans don't need more presents underneath the tree simply for the sake of making the pile look bigger. Sometimes, we'd rather have fewer boxes there in the first place. We just want the ones with Nintendo's name on them.

A personal journey through Hyrule, completionism and the game that arrived at exactly the right time. Monday 3rd August 2026. The day I finally beat The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom for the very first time. To some people, that probably doesn't mean much. After all, the game has been out for over three years, so the obvious question is: what took me so long? The answer isn't simple. This is a story of perseverance, setbacks, and picking myself back up without ever giving up. Completing Tears of the Kingdom means more to me than any other game or piece of media I have ever finished, and that's what this piece is all about. I am not here to tell you why Tears of the Kingdom is a masterpiece. I'm not here to rank anything, review its mechanics or gush about how good or bad the story is. There is an abundance of retrospectives, essays and all that available for those who want to delve deeper. This isn't going to analyse TOTK purely as a video game, but rather as an experience — my experience. This is the story of a personal journey that began officially in 2019 and finally came to an end this month, nearly seven years later. It's a story of what Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom came to mean to me. They stopped being Nintendo games a long time ago. To me, they became pieces of art that I'll carry with me for the rest of my life. This is my story of beating The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. But to explain this properly, we have to use ‘Recall’ and go all the way back — not just to 2019, but to when and where I became a Zelda fan. Chapter One: Finding Zelda As a kid growing up playing video games and having Nintendo as my only output, I was never the Zelda kid. Instead, I was all things Super Mario, and most kids around me were. I grew up with the moustachioed man throughout my early childhood. He became the face of my Nintendo DS, Wii, 3DS and, to an extent, my Wii U. I knew what Zelda was, but it was never my series. My first interaction came in the form of Super Smash Bros. Brawl, where I loved the look and animations of Toon Link and his Wind Waker stage. I got a lot of use out of him, despite me being awful at the game — something I still am nowadays. Ironically, the first Zelda game I owned was indeed The Wind Waker. The HD version for Wii U came with my console for Christmas 2013. It was my first foray into the world of Zelda, and experiencing its characters, story and gameplay was a whole curveball compared to the game formulas I had been used to. It was probably what ended up halting my progress in the game. I remember getting to the Fire and Ice Islands, and nothing more past that. Shame really, but I was still the Mario guy at heart, and I had plenty of content to keep me entertained, meaning Zelda never made a lasting impact. But just because I didn't enjoy it as much as Mario didn't mean I didn't like it. I loved my time playing Wind Waker, and I was still very much a massive Nintendo fan. I watched every Direct at the time, bought the monthly magazines whenever I had enough money and would keep up to date on the latest news and games. Even if I wasn't playing Zelda games, the series was always somewhere in the background. Unfortunately, in 2015, I sold my Wii U to help fund a gaming PC and, at the time, I didn't look back. For the next few years, my attention shifted almost entirely towards PC gaming, and the Big N had to take a backseat. I wasn't the only one making this shift. 2015 was one of Nintendo's worst years as the Wii U continued to fail, and it wasn't until late 2016, when the Nintendo Switch was unveiled, that things started to look up. During this time, I never stopped following them. I still remember waking up extra early for the Switch Presentation in January 2017 and watching it right before school. Sitting in my bedroom watching this brand-new console was so exciting, and the games backed that up too. Unsurprisingly, Super Mario Odyssey hogged my attention, but other games that I have now played, like Splatoon 2 and Xenoblade Chronicles 2, looked fantastic. Then came the showpiece finale: the final trailer for the latest Zelda game and the Switch's launch title, Breath of the Wild. I was amazed. I had never seen anything like it before. At this point in my life, I was almost entirely focused on multiplayer PC games like CS:GO, Minecraft and Rocket League — games you could jump into for 20 minutes or spend hours playing with friends. Breath of the Wild looked like something completely different, unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and judging by its reaction online, I wasn't alone in thinking that. It made me want a Nintendo Switch. So why did it take me nearly three years to get one? Simple. Alongside these aforementioned multiplayer games, I was involved and dedicated to FIFA and Formula 1 games and their communities, particularly F1, where I league raced, commentated and spent a large majority of my time. When I did play something else, it tended to be other games that didn't demand huge commitments, games I could pick up for 20 minutes or so. That was why a massive open-world adventure wasn't particularly compatible with me at the time. I still watched bits of gameplay and trailers, which gave me my fill without spoiling the game for my eventual playthrough. However, I did spoil myself massively with Super Mario Odyssey. Before playing it myself, I watched Dashie play through it in its entirety, meaning that before I had even picked up a controller, I knew everything that was going to happen. That remains, to this day, the ONLY Nintendo game I have had spoiled, and that was through my own doing. I still think Odyssey is a masterpiece and one of the Switch's best games, but it never managed to connect with me in the same way as games like Super Mario Galaxy or Super Mario 64. When I finally did play it after getting my Switch for Christmas in 2019, it was a breath of fresh air. I got my Switch with Luigi's Mansion 3 and Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, and Odyssey was bought with my own money. I also ended up picking up Spyro Reignited Trilogy after a friend recommended it to me. He actually worked for the shop where I bought the Switch and managed to get me a discount, which was a nice bonus. I prioritised my experiences with Odyssey and Luigi's Mansion 3, naturally due to my preference for the bing bing wahoo man, while Mario Kart became my game to dip in and out of. I had already poured hundreds of hours into the Wii U version, so it felt great returning to it after several years away. It also helps that I'm very good at it, and that the game itself is amazing. But that made connecting with my final game on the shelf all the more worthwhile. It wasn't familiar to me, nor did I expect anything from it. I hadn't watched much gameplay since 2017, which meant I had virtually no idea what I was in for. That game was The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. Chapter Two: Hyrule's Magnum Opus I still remember, six years later, what it was like to start and play Breath of the Wild for the first time. For the first three or four hours, I barely did anything at all. It took me around three days just to leave the Great Plateau, not through being stuck or unable to, I simply didn't want to leave. I spent hours experimenting with weapons and materials, fighting (and sometimes avoiding) monsters, climbing every hill and tower I could, sometimes just wandering aimlessly with no set objective or destination. Sometimes I'd stop just to watch birds chirp or fly or pay attention to the local wildlife roaming the grassy fields. I remember being extremely fascinated by something as simple as nature existing inside a video game. That's one thing I think BOTW does better than almost any other game I have played. Most games consistently push you towards the next objective, the next destination. There's always another fight, cutscene, ability or mission waiting around the corner. Games encourage you to keep moving in order to keep progressing, going from Point A to Point B as quickly as possible. Breath of the Wild doesn't do any of that. The game could not care less what you spend your time doing in Hyrule. In fact, it encouraged me to stop more than it encouraged me to keep going. Not stop playing, but to stop and appreciate the world, look around and take it all in. The game is proud — and rightly so — of the world it revolves around, and I think it does a brilliant job of making us appreciate it. So many times during my playthrough I would go, "Woah, look at that!", and I am sure that was intentional from the Zelda team. Looking back, I almost think this sense of discovery can easily be lost in our own lives and is something we as humans don't treasure enough. We are often guilty of spending so much time rushing from one thing to the next that we forget to appreciate the quieter moments. Even now, one of my favourite things to do is simply go for a walk and enjoy nature and the feeling of being outside. When I think about that feeling, it reminds me of how I explored Hyrule for the first time. One thing you should know about me is that I hate doing things the easy way, the boring way. This goes for a lot of things in life. As a wise blue hedgehog once said: "An adventure's no fun if it's too easy!", and that's exactly the approach I took into my own BOTW experience. The game points you down the path towards Kakariko Village and Zora's Domain before exploring all the other regions' dilemmas, but I never really followed that path. Instead, I wandered off in whichever direction interested me at the time. I explored because I wanted to, not because the game told me to. That is the beauty of Breath of the Wild. It never holds your hand. It simply gives you the world and says: "Go." Experience it however you choose. And I did exactly that. For three months, this game was my oyster, my life, my reason to wake up in the morning. Hyrule completely consumed my attention. The game came at a great time in an otherwise poor period of my life. I had recently dropped out of college and wasn't really doing anything productive with my life. It didn't help that I was struggling mentally and rarely wanted to leave the house. Then COVID happened, and suddenly everyone else's world became much smaller too. Looking back, I sometimes wonder if BOTW made the situation worse. Not because the game itself was a bad influence, but because I loved being in Hyrule so much that I preferred it to reality. Also, a deadly disease wasn't present in Hyrule either. Hyrule became my escape in a world of restrictions. As someone who is autistic, clear and structured guidelines and narratives are things I have become accustomed to in video games: getting from Point A to Point B and knowing where I am supposed to be going. Especially at the time I played it, BOTW offered the complete opposite of what was an awful period for everyone. This game shouldn't have worked for me. It allows almost too much freedom, to a point where it can become overwhelming, and I'll admit there were times in my first playthrough when I did feel overwhelmed. But it worked. It clicked. It was the juxtaposition in my life I needed. I was immersed in that world in ways I couldn't be in my own. What I couldn't understand about myself at the time was understood in Hyrule. The characters, enemies, villages, even the NPCs — I connected with all of them in some form. I had never felt this attached to a game's world like I did with Breath of the Wild, and that experience is rare in video games. It got to a point where BOTW was my life, the reason I woke up in the morning, the thing I went to bed thinking about. It was an obsession for me for a good two months, and I am not ashamed to admit that. It gave me purpose at a time when I felt little purpose in my own life. Saving Hyrule, at the very least, was a goal to work towards, and the game was motivating me to achieve this goal in whatever way I wanted to. It got to the point where I was playing the game 15 hours a day and sleeping the rest. It became unhealthy, but who cared? The whole world was unhealthy at that time, and those Korok Seeds weren't going to find themselves. Above all, the game made me want to do EVERYTHING. I wanted to experience all this Hyrule had to offer. Every side quest, every shrine, every collectable, every armour piece, every Compendium entry — I wanted it all. BOTW made me realise that, in life, I am a completionist. Not in terms of wanting to do everything I possibly can in my life, but with the things I have, I want to get the most out of them. Even simple things like food and drink. Going to a restaurant, I will ALWAYS finish a meal because I believe in making the most of everything, and leaving food that you paid good money for is something I don't like. I get the most out of events I go to, like football matches. As an Everton fan, many a time I have thought of leaving early, but I never do. This attitude and way of living stays with me through a lot of things and has been exemplified especially through BOTW and TOTK. I have always been a completionist at heart when it comes to video games. I remember 100%-ing Super Mario Galaxy multiple times as a kid, getting that coveted 121st star after beating the game with Luigi. It helped at the time that my game collection, like most kids', was limited, so Galaxy became comfort food that I could play whenever. Now I live in a time where I can buy my own games, and more and more games take my interest. But I still choose to 100% these games to get the most out of them. Especially when these games aren't getting any cheaper! Games like Ring Fit Adventure, Super Mario Odyssey, Super Mario Bros. Wonder, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and, more recently, Mario Kart World and Donkey Kong Bananza have all followed that trend for me. I don't need a major reward for 100%-ing a video game, as that achievement in itself is rewarding enough for me. Knowing there is nothing else left to do, explore or learn about the game is a satisfying feeling for me, and I'm sure that feeling is shared by many other completionists. In BOTW's case, I made sure that I did everything before taking on Calamity Ganon for the first time. All Shrines, all Korok Seeds, all upgraded armour pieces, every side quest, every memory, every recipe, buying the house in Hateno Village — I did it all. That includes the two DLC expansions that released. I was roaming around with the Master Cycle Zero before Zelda could even have a go herself. I remember how badass I felt pulling up to the Sanctum in Hyrule Castle driving that. The battle was over in an instant. I was too powerful, unsurprisingly, and with over 400 hours in the game, Calamity and Dark Beast Ganon didn't stand a chance. Not to mention the fact that I started this game with my only experience of Zelda being arguably the easiest of the bunch in Wind Waker, and by the end of my time with it, I was taking Lynels down for breakfast blindfolded. I rolled credits on the 4th of April 2020, and that day was when I discovered my love for The Legend of Zelda. For the first time in my life, I understood why so many people held this series in such high regard. BOTW became my second-favourite game of all time, only behind Super Mario Galaxy, which has childhood-nostalgia-bias plot armour that prevents it from ever being dethroned. Above anything, though, the game made me fall in love with the character of Zelda herself. Not for what you think, I promise! It's because of her character development. I love when a character who isn't playable develops over the course of a story because of the player's actions, and Zelda is exactly that. She spends a lot of the memories in self-doubt, carrying the weight of enormous expectations while desperately trying to unlock the power that never seemed to come. I was also at a time in my life when my own purpose was in doubt. I didn't know what was best for me and didn't have the answers I needed. But Zelda managed to find hers, not without tragedy and hurt, but watching her gradually overcome these doubts and become the person you see at the end of the game was incredibly rewarding. She didn't stop failing. She simply kept going. I think that's one of the reasons Breath of the Wild resonated with me so deeply: it arrived at exactly the right time. It gave me a world I could escape into when I needed one most. Finishing the game also happened to come at a time when the future of the series was already decided. The train ride had just set off, and I had got on at the perfect time. The destination, however, was still a ways away... Chapter Three: The Wait 2020 was a terrible year for most people, but for someone like me who hadn’t exactly been living ‘by the book’ beforehand, lockdown and staying indoors wasn’t entirely untoward. It gave me a lot of free time to explore, find new passions and take on projects that otherwise might not have been possible. Being indoors had its benefits too. Games like Ring Fit Adventure became an important part of making me feel better, and I played so many games during lockdown that I would struggle to fit into my day-to-day life now. 2020 was not short of new Nintendo releases either. Of course, the big one was Animal Crossing: New Horizons, which became a major part of my initial lockdown. I lived and breathed that game even more than BOTW for a good two months, but I was also looking ahead to what was to come. 2019 had been a great year for Nintendo, not just because of major releases like Luigi’s Mansion 3, Fire Emblem: Three Houses and the first mainline Pokémon game on a home console in Sword and Shield, but also because it had announced plenty of exciting projects for the future. One of which was the sequel to The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. Announced as the closing reveal of Nintendo’s E3 Direct in 2019, the game was given a short teaser trailer that only really confirmed two things: it took place after the events of BOTW, and Zelda had cut her hair. I remember 2020 being full of speculation. After all, we had so much free time on our hands to do exactly that. What would this game look like? Would Zelda be playable? Was Ganondorf back? How would Link go back to his default hearts at the beginning of the game? So many questions to ask... It was going to be a while before we got any more information, so what did I do to pass the time? I played EVERY single 3D Zelda game from start to finish. Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Wind Waker — for real this time — Twilight Princess and Skyward Sword, all played and beaten over the course of two months. The experience was captivating, legendary even. After getting my first real taste of the world of Zelda through BOTW, I finally experienced the best these games had to offer and could now proudly call myself a Zelda fan. I won’t drag on about how much I love all of these games here, but each one left a mark on me and made the feelings I had already developed through BOTW even stronger. But alas, it was time to look ahead. Over the next few years, we were finally treated to more trailers, a name reveal and eventually a release date for what would become The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. This was the first game in the franchise where I had been there for the entire anticipation journey. I watched analysis videos, discussions, hopes and dreams, prediction videos — everything. Eventually, the game was scheduled to release in 2023, three years after I had explored that version of Hyrule to its absolute extremities. It is still the most excited I have ever been for a media release in my life. More than the Sonic movies. More than the Switch 2. Heck, even more than my graduation. If someone offered me the choice between experiencing my graduation day again or playing TOTK for the first time again, my graduation doesn’t stand a chance! Speaking of graduation, yes, I was at university by this point. I was finally back in academia and doing something I was passionate about and genuinely enjoyed. If the BOTW period of my life represented a lack of purpose and the search for something to pursue, the TOTK period represented the opposite. I had found that purpose and was now pursuing it to the fullest. I had left that older version of myself behind in terms of the struggle and uncertainty, but not the memories. I was still carrying them with me into this new stage of my life. University was not easy, and at the time of writing this, having just finished my master’s degree, I can confidently say that never really changed. There is something almost poetic about TOTK’s completion representing the end of my time in academia, whereas BOTW represented the beginning of the journey that eventually led me there. But more on that later. I remember very well the morning after the February 2023 Nintendo Direct, the one that showed off the Collector’s Edition for Tears of the Kingdom, and the struggle of trying to pre-order it while juggling a university lecture. I had never bought a Collector’s Edition for a game before, and I had barely pre-ordered games at all, aside from a few like Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity. I had already been saving money for TOTK, but despite my best efforts, I was unsuccessful in my mission. Eventually, Nintendo UK restocked the Collector’s Edition and saved me from disappointment, meaning I was ready and raring to go for the 12th of May. Ironically, the release came just one day after my own birthday on the 11th. It felt strangely fitting. I had never had a major release land so close to my birthday before, and for Zelda in particular, TOTK arriving in May made the whole occasion feel even more unique. To me, it felt like the best birthday present I could have asked for. I barely remember what presents I actually got for my 21st birthday. I do remember getting my next adventure with Link and Zelda. Of course, I didn’t just stop at the Collector’s Edition. Over the next few months, I wanted as many amiibo as I could get my hands on, whether they were TOTK, BOTW or Zelda-related in general. I especially worked hard to find the Majora’s Mask Link amiibo so I could unlock the corresponding paraglider fabric, and together they have formed a rather esteemed collection on my shelf. It was a struggle to collect everything at first, but that paled in comparison to the much bigger struggle looming ahead. The hardest part of TOTK had seemingly come and gone: waiting to play the damn game. Unfortunately, that was only the start. Much harder was the stage of life I now found myself in. I was no longer someone with very few responsibilities who could dedicate almost every waking hour to the Kingdom of Hyrule. I was at university. I was working part-time as a barman. Life was completely different from when I first played BOTW, and I knew that completing Tears of the Kingdom in the same way was going to be a much bigger challenge. I was right. Here I am in August 2026, writing about how I finally beat the game three years later. And here’s how... Chapter Four – Hyrule My Way I was working on the 12th of May which meant I couldn't begin my journey with Tears of the Kingdom immediately. I remember rushing back home after work around midnight, dropping everything just to experience the opening of the game, even just for a few hours. I eventually called it a night at 4am, but I was hungry to play more. Watching the opening for the very first time was a surreal experience, something you very rarely get when playing a video game. It evoked those same senses I got from playing BOTW, but this time in a different way. The wonder was still there but was further exemplified because of my experience with BOTW as well as the wonders of exploring a vastly expanded world of Hyrule. It was also just great to get a continuation of a story. So many times with Zelda, each experience is vastly different to the next, and even sequels like Phantom Hourglass and especially Majora's Mask never feel like direct continuations as much as TOTK does. Some would say it is to the game's detriment that it is a sequel. Using the same overworld, enemies being largely the same, very few fresh places to explore, but when the overworld was to me, as perfect as it could be in BOTW, it can get away with re-using the world, and especially with the promise of even more to explore, both up high and down below, it was a positive more than a negative to the game. I was hooked right from the off, from the very first cutscene of Link and Zelda venturing down the depths of Hyrule Castle, as the game presents a prologue to the events about to unfold. Seeing the remains of the decayed Ganondorf, his destroyal of the Master Sword and Link's right arm, as well as Link failing to catch a falling Zelda, who vanishes from existence due to the Stone Relic she picked up. It is a fast starting game, the polar opposite to the experience of BOTW, raising the stakes (and the castle) had to be done to set the scene for what was to come, and as I said, I was sold from that moment forth. A central theme of the game is to do with hands, and connections especially, and the game preludes that with the central theme of Link's arm being badly damaged and of course, the shot of his hand missing the Princess's is embedded into the core theme of the game, and the whole driving force for finding Zelda, because you 'lost' her by not catching her. Not since Majora's Mask has a 3D Zelda game seemed so epic upon starting. Too often a time, Link loves a sleep and a lie-in (don't we all), with stakes being relatively low at first to settle the player in. The beauty of a sequel is that the ground rules can be bent slightly, those who have already played BOTW won't want a direct repeat, so to expect a grandiose opening was correct and boy it delivered. Well, that is until you awake in the Great Sky Island that is... The initial tutorial despite being a rehash of BOTW's is still Zelda at its absolute best. First off, the jump down, the title reveal, the music, is unbelievable. I don't like to think that BOTW and TOTK are trying to compete against each other as they work better when trying to complement one another, but TOTK craps on BOTW's front garden with its opening I'm sorry. The scales have already been raised, and Link's first sky-dive out of the Room of Awakening makes you know just that, as he dives head-first into a brand-new adventure, new gadget arm and Decayed Master Sword intact! The atmosphere and ambiguity of the Great Sky Island is amazing. Not since Skyward Sword has Zelda reached high above the clouds and even then Skyloft was hustling and bustling with an alive atmosphere that is present for the entire playthrough. Here, where Link stands, unsure of where he needs to go, the atmosphere is almost unnervy, mysterious. How did he wake up all the way here? Where BOTW and the Great Plateau acted as a tutorial for the player and for Link to get accustomed to, you know, being alive and awake for the first time in 100 years, there is a lack of guidance for Link and for me that's what makes the Great Sky Island so great. It's ominous, even when you meet Rauru's spirit for the first time, he doesn't tell you the answers right away. One thing I also love and have always loved about the Sky Islands is the music and scenery. No wonder Nintendo used a lot of the Sky Island environments for marketing material, because it is gorgeous. The music as well, fits the gravitas so well. It's calm and relaxing but eery and mysterious, sad even. I know a lot of people have complaints about the Sky Islands and the lack of things to do and whilst I echo a lot of those thoughts, the lack of presence up these areas might have been purposeful, and I think the environment fits. Especially for the Great Sky Island, no one is up there with you. At least with BOTW, the 'Old Man' was there, and you felt a sense of a world with people in as you could see the rest of Hyrule that lies ahead. In TOTK, there's nothing. Just you and the clouds. I like and I dislike the more linear structure of the Great Sky Island. After visiting the Temple of Time for the first time and failing to 'register' with your brand-new cool gadget gear for a hand, you are directed to the three shrines at different points of the map. Of course the same is true in BOTW's case, but I felt more open and less restrictive. In TOTK, it's like a domino effect created by the game's new abilities. Ultrahand is required to create boats and bridges to traverse the multiple islands, or if you were like me, chop down plenty of wooden logs and make an ultra-long shaft! You unlock fuse which allows you to attach weapons and objects together to help you in combat, as you encounter more enemies the further you progress, as well as fusing items like bright bloom seeds to your arrows to light up dim caves. Ascend is helpful and required to get to a few areas with Link's limited stamina, and traversing the cold area is made much easier with it. I do love the necessary (but not required) glide back down to the Temple via the wing. One thing the tutorial does very well is integrate the Zonai devices very well. Of course, many more hi-complexity devices are uncovered throughout your journey, but the Great Sky Island gives Link a great playground to play with his new toys. Fuse what he wants, craft what he wants without failure. That makes up massively for the linearity of the shrine path the game aids you to follow. It mirrors a traditional Zelda dungeon, or for that matter, the philosophy that has identified Zelda games for generations. Zelda has always been about getting from one place to the next, using weapons, abilities and items to aid you, in a linear fashion. So are the dungeons. Think of your favourite dungeons and why you love them so much. They work because they involve solving things in a structure that allows progression, rewarding the player, and the Great Sky Island works in that same vein. As open as it wants to be, there are some places unreachable without certain abilities, just like games of the past. It allows for that sense of 'aha!' whilst playing, which was brilliant. On the topic of 'Ahas!', nothing exemplifies this feeling like a Korok seed, and BOY are they back. 1000 of them in fact, and there are a few on the Great Sky Island. I hate these guys but also love them. They were one of my favourite parts of the Wind Waker, especially Makar, but in BOTW they are a chore to collect. I was glad to see them back for continuation’s sake, but I knew completing this game would mean I would need to re-accustom myself with that familiar noise every time completing a puzzle. The main selling point of BOTW was its freedom, sandbox nature, and the lack of linearity that was a conundrum at the time of the game's development. Where they ended up going too far down the linear path with Skyward Sword, the overwhelming notion was that that structure was not the way to go, and to juxtapose that, the Zelda team made BOTW. The Great Plateau is a small sample of the main meal. The Great Sky Island feels more like a dungeon than a sandbox area, and that's ok, because it isn't trying to be the Great Plateau, again. Think of it as the Great Plateau as a game like Super Mario 64, and the Great Sky Island as a Super Mario Galaxy style of play. Both are 3D environment Mario games where Mario's moves help him from one place to the next, but in a game like 64, you are free to explore the worlds in whatever order you like, grab what stars you want. Whereas Galaxy requires you to stay on the beaten path for its duration. The Great Sky Island envelops this feeling, but also reassures the player that freedom is still a part of this game's core. For a story purposes, I prefer the Great Plateau slightly more. It represented a place that enemies like Guardians could never enter, safeguarded by its high walls that meant Link was safe at the Shrine of Resurrection. Having the (now decayed) Temple of Time and seeing the ruins of the Kingdom served as a deep reminder of the crux of the situation. The Great Sky Island seems like an extraordinary, out of this world island that despite being anything familiar we have seen before, feels strange and ominous. The player knows of the Upheaval and the events that took place due to Ganondorf's reawakening, but Link doesn't. Only till he gets to Lookout Landing can he sense what has happened. Rauru and King Rhoam both play very similar roles too, and I can't help but feel Rauru was underselling himself for a reason. He's just about interesting to want to know more, whereas King Rhoam serves his purpose and that is that. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, back at the Temple of Time. I remember spending ALL day immersed on the Great Sky Island, almost like I didn't want to leave. It's always funny looking back at the opening of games now with answers, especially with Zelda's whereabouts. Not only was the scene Link receiving the Recall ability Zelda's Sage offering, of course the Light Dragon is seen as soon as Link skydives for the first time. It would be interesting to revisit this game again one day and see all of these little tidbits these sneaky developers were hiding, now that we know the full picture. Seeing Zelda pick up the Decayed Master Sword where it looked like she was on the Great Plateau raised so many answers. Where was she? What's up with her dress? How did Fi know to recall itself back in time? Speaking of Fi, her implementation into both Wild era games has been fantastic. Ever since her appearance in Skyward Sword, giving the Master Sword origin, and a voice, she was integrated perfectly into both BOTW and TOTK. Having her 'speak', especially in the BOTW memory where Zelda saves Link from the guardian onslaught was amazing, and that is carried into TOTK. Whenever the Master Sword makes her sound it gets to me emotionally, especially after my Skyward Sword playthrough, and I'm glad that small connection survived post-Skyward Sword and into the Wild era games. With the Ocarina of Time remake inbound, it will be interesting to see is Fi will be in that game too, considering OOT comes after Skyward Sword in the timeline. But alas, down into Hyrule I went towards Lookout Landing. Here is where my playthrough really starts to change, however. I already knew I wanted to 100% this game no matter what. I did it with BOTW so it's only fair to do it to the sequel right? I followed my tactic of using very little if any guides at all, which turned out to be the cause of this game taking 3 years of my life to complete. Not only that, but I also wanted to explore every nook and cranny this game had to offer. With 3x the number of surfaces to explore, as well as caves on the overworld, I didn't want to leave any crumbs on my plate, so I explored EVERYTHING, and I mean EVERYTHING. There would be numerous days where I would roam around for hours, picking up Korok seeds here or there or maybe beating a boss or two. Or maybe, I didn't do anything at all. There were some days I just treaded ground for an hour or two before bed, getting almost nothing done. It became routine for me, and it worked. The sense of knowing there was always something more to be explored the next day, or the next time I played the game was enough to draw me back. It meant that one of the first things I ended up doing was uncovering the Hero's Path. The Hero's Path was a lifesaver for me in my completionist method of playing. Returning from BOTW, it tracks the player's movements, so you know where you have or haven't gone to on your playthrough, and even better for TOTK, it uncovers all three layers of the world too. Unlocking it was the ONLY thing in my entire playthrough that I streamlined...up until the very end of my playthrough when I just wanted to roll credits. It became my guide to what ground I have covered and what ground needs covering. My playthrough was divided by the game's regions. Unlocking each tower and the map surrounding it, traversing all of that area's ground in the sky and on the surface, before moving on to the next area. If it sounds confusing, good, it's meant to. I have a thing with structures and that was the way I was going to play the game. It took a lot of time and hours to see everything, but it also made the big impactful moments, particularly related to the story, that much more impactful. After retrieving the first Geoglyph, my path, like many, ventured me towards Rito Village to tackle the first of the game's 'Regional Phenomena'. This whole questline was one of my favourite parts of the game. I always loved the vibe from the Rito's in BOTW, especially its village and the snow tundra next to it, and it's no different here. Unsurprisingly, following the straight line to the Wind Temple wasn't going to suffice. I did everything around the village and its tundra before heading for the big bad. There was something I enjoyed about the place being in turmoil, full of snow. Having the village full of child Rito's as the adults had to venture off to find food made the Rito so much better. When I did get onto the beaten path, it was sensational. The quest involves Tulin, son of Teba who helped Link get to Divine Beast Vah Medoh, as he is the only one who can control the winds, and able to use that to his advantage when facing the Stormwind Ark. It has been echoed plenty of times before, but Tulin's ability was so predominant in my playthrough that it became a core part of Link's moveset, like climbing or flurry rushing. It would feel strange going back to BOTW or even a subsequent new playthrough of TOTK and having to paraglide without him by my side. I like Tulin as a character too. At first he is just a young Rito warrior wanting to prove himself, but he matures over the course of the story to say he is a worthy character and ally for Link. Still not as good as Revali though, something about his jerkiness makes him the more likeable for me...for some reason. When the Legend of Zelda is peak, nothing, and I mean, nothing can top it. The Wind Temple was just that. The ascent to the top and towards the Temple was so exhilarating. It really shows you the expanded scale of the world, whilst simultaneously making you feel so small. The shot when you get to the top, the music fades and it's just you and Tulin high up in the clouds. What a shot. Then comes Colgera. Despite being a rather easy boss in retrospect, the climax of the fight high above the clouds, with someone fighting by your side for the first time in a 3D Zelda game since Twilight Princess, and the music. THE MUSIC. I had no words experiencing this for the first time. The music in the fight isn't just phenomenal; it is ascension worthy. Hearing an orchestrated, climactic rendition of the Dragon Roost Island theme was tearjerkingly outstanding. I should have seen it coming with it being the Rito, and Colgera being similar to Molgera from the Wind Temple in Wind Waker but alas, it was one of those experiences that leaves you thinking about it for days-on-end. At that point, Wind Waker was still my favourite traditional Zelda game. I had finally finished it in my 2020 Zelda marathon, years after abandoning it on Wii U as a kid. So hearing Dragon Roost again felt like two different parts of my journey with this franchise colliding. Like Toon Link's presence was there with me to help me through the battle. Living the moment felt like the first time playing a Zelda game that I had been rewarded for becoming a fan because of BOTW. Understanding music and references emotionally is something I connect to deeply, assuming it is only used sporadically and with good intent. A lot of TOTK's soundtrack uses melodies from its predecessor, and despite being good tunes, you don't feel that emotional connection like I did for Colgera's theme. I mean, you know a moment is memorable when you instantly rush to YouTube to look for other people's reactions to the same thing. The temple itself is still quite basic. The familiar trope of activating terminals should have stayed with the Divine Beasts and not transferred over, as despite the designs and structure being more impressive this time around, like I said before, a dungeon works best when it gives you those 'Aha!' moments that require problem solving multiple things over the duration of the dungeon. Puzzles rarely build upon one another. In many traditional dungeons, solving one puzzle changes your understanding of the place. You acquire an item, alter the environment, discover a new route, revisit an old room from a different perspective, those sorts of things. The dungeons in TOTK lack that and instead has 5 completely independent puzzles that when solved will unlock the boss, but hey, they are still a slight improvement from BOTW's outings. The irony is that the Great Sky Island actually understands something the temples sometimes forget, a little linearity can create progression. I guess we will see in the next 3D game if the Zelda team can still rustle the same magic that gave us places like Arbiter's Grounds or the Ancient Cistern. With that, my journey finally felt like I was making headwind and progression started to actually take shape. At this time it was around mid-June, and I had ticked over 100 hours of playtime. My journey naturally took towards the Eldin region with Death Mountain and Goron City. That included a detour to the Forgotten Temple to discover the rest of the Geoglyphs, and discovering the rest of Zelda's fate. There was just ONE BIG PROBLEM. The route from Hebra and Rito Village towards Eldin and Goron City crosses over Korok Forest, the previous home of the Master Sword and the Great Deku Tree. So naturally, I made my way there, cured the Deku Tree and learnt of the Master Sword's direct location. Little did I know the lore implications of the sacred sword. My biggest regret from my playthrough and being honest, one of the only regrets I even have is retrieving the Master Sword early. I was so accustomed to having it in BOTW that I wanted it straight away in Tears, but obviously a major part of the game is to do with the sword's restoration from the incident at the start of the game. I made my way to the Light Dragon and had enough stamina to retrieve the Legendary Sword herself. The scene is always glorious in Zelda games, and this was no different. Pulling the sword out of a dragon's head no less. But for me I had not discovered the lengths the sword had gone to be recovered, and even with Zelda's cutscene played I didn't think much of it. It was only when I discovered the next memory, where Mineru talks of the forbidden act of Dragonification, that I finally put two and two together. I spoiled myself that Zelda was the Light Dragon, and I hated that. Retrieving the Master Sword didn't feel rewarding at the time of retrieval, whereas if you had to discover the truth of Zelda's journey it would have been so much better. It's not an unpopular opinion to say I wish they wouldn't have let you get the Master Sword until after the final Tear, locking you away from going near the Light Dragon. Of course, after the 11th tear, Zelda comes much further down to a more reasonable height in the Sky to help you find her, but there are still plenty of spots in the Sky where at her highest she is findable. Memories in Breath of the Wild didn't have any repercussions for discovering them out of order. Of course, they are meant to be watched chronologically but nothing changes, or no major revelations are found UNTIL the final memory is unlocked, where it shows Zelda finally finding her sacred power to save Link, and also how Link was put in the Shrine of Resurrection. The rest of the memories only serve to display the story of the past, events that have already happened and events that do not matter to the world you play in in the present. TOTK tried and failed to do this again, because of Zelda's presence in the current world being the Light Dragon. It felt wrong to get the Master Sword, where it felt earnt in BOTW, and for that matter every other Zelda game for that matter. I just wish I could go back and tell myself to not do the Korok Forest mission, and to wait to discover the truth of this version of the blade, and how it has been restored to its original glory. I got punished for using the game's biggest strength. I didn't glitch the game, break sequence of code, I simply...explored, and found out revelations of the story at a time I shouldn't have. TOTK is fighting two different philosophies: the freedom of the player to explore whatever they want, whenever they want, and the other being discovering Zelda's past in a way that unfolds in a carefully structured mystery. It feels like the story wants to be more grandiose in the present, but I think it misses the mark on this occasion. Zelda turning into a Light Dragon is one of if not the BIGGEST moment in Zelda lore, having a Princess of Hyrule turn herself into something like that for her specific purpose isn't something that should ever be discovered in the wrong way. It would be like if you discovered that Tetra was Zelda after the first dungeon in Wind Waker, albeit on much less of a scale. The story itself isn't bad per se, it’s the approach and structure that fails to deliver. If the story had been perceived in a traditional Zelda sense, it would have worked. There are some really strong themes there of the first Kingdom of Hyrule, Ganondorf's transformation into the Demon King, characters like Rauru, Sonia and Mineru who are interesting enough to want to pursue more of. It is all just let down by the delivery for me. I didn't even experience it out of order. Knowing of all the themes running through Zelda's head during the time when I already know her fate just didn't impact me as emotionally as it did. It also didn't help that I experienced these revelations in good time between. Because of the slow nature of my playthrough and having so much time off playing the game through other commitments or even playing other games, it got to the point where I didn't watch the Light Dragon cutscene till about April 2025, over 18 months after finally discovering the Master Sword for myself. Nintendo allowed me to spoil myself and so many others as well, and I'm not pleased about it. For most players, finding the revelation and the Master Sword would have come quite seamlessly after one another. For me, it represented two different parts of my life. Another thing that gripes me about this approach to storytelling is, well, the lack of Link. I get it, it’s the Legend of ZELDA, and there is a serious push to make the Princess more of a character ever since her 'side-lining' in Twilight Princess. But none of the memories, bar one, even mentions Link, you know, the guy we play as? In BOTW, Link was an ever-present, the memories were a way of restoring his memories. Even if he won't show much emotion, they definitely would have helped him and his motives. If he suddenly discovered amnesia again in TOTK, it wouldn't work, because the memories in that game all revolve around Zelda. Link is the same person if he watches the cutscenes, or if he doesn't. Apart from the fact his girlfriend is now a big dragon, I don't even know how I'd feel if that were me to be fair. What is even more strange for me is that we as the player can't affect the world that Link roams because of the game's non-linearity, the world and Link for that matter, doesn't care that Zelda is a dragon canonically, when all these fake ones start roaming around important areas. It would have killed me to experience Hyrule Castle with Link already knowing that Zelda was a puppet from Ganondorf. Even from the cutscene of Sonia's death, you could put the dots together and realise that Zelda in the present isn't our Zelda, but there is nothing we as the player can do about it. Why couldn't we just show the cutscenes to Purah at least? They are all saved on her Purah Pad right? Just give it to her for some investigation thing and let her discover them on her own. It shouldn't feel like we should be the only ones discovering these secrets, when the whole of Hyrule would benefit from knowing the truth. It got to the point that I was nulling all of this 'Where is Zelda' vibes because it was boring. The whole quest line with Penn trying to find Zelda sightings knowing it wasn't her was spoilt for me unfortunately, and I was left to rue what it would feel like to still have that same wonder and mystery of the Princess's whereabouts. This dilemma also creates a distinction and lack of cohesion between us as the player and Link. Before BOTW, we could name Link anything, because he was meant to represent us as the player, and that's why he was mute. But in BOTW, he became a fully-fledged character, separating us from him. It doesn't help that he acts mostly oblivious to Zelda's transformation not just in the moment, but also with people around him. It makes me question; does he even know what I know? Of course, the affection and care for his Princess is clearly there, shown in the final dive where he looks desperate to save her, but it's something I wasn't a fan of during my time of grieving my spoilt game. The problem with the game's non-linear structure is that a story that has structure seemingly can't work. Whilst the story happened in the past, it is structured from A to B and describes Zelda's journey in the previous version of Hyrule. There has to be a way for these non-linear games and the stories to co-exist, because the Zelda team have had 2 tries at it and failed, and I don't have confidence they will make it third times a charm. I think Zelda fans like me are not looking for a massive, ground-breaking story, but having story events happening in conjunction with what Link does is something we desperately need. I can't quite remember what happened and how I felt when I eventually found out Zelda was the Light Dragon. I definitely can't remember how I felt when I realised through the Dragonification cutscene, but the actual depiction was not as sad as I thought it was. Of course, it is a powerful moment and emotionally poignant, but I remember my experience with Colgera more than that, because of my tainted experience. It's like before when I said I had spoiled myself with Super Mario Odyssey, but I could get away with that game as there was nothing close to emotional storytelling in that game. If anything, the one thing I remember was wishing I could experience it blind, but I will never be able to do that again. My greed for the Master Sword ended up stabbing me in the back (get it), as despite being mechanically rewarding, it felt emotionally premature. Despite numerous side-tracking’s, my next step was Goron City, one of my favourite locations in any Zelda game. I have a strong affection for the Gorons, probably because like me they are big guys who look a little funny. I just like how they are just massive rocks. Daruk was my favourite Champion too, and I was excited to see what had changed from BOTW. What I didn't expect was for drugs to be a major theme of the Goron questline this time around. Well that's not entirely true. The Gorons are always an interesting race, and it wouldn't surprise me if Darunia from Ocarina of Time had some of this fabled Marbled Rock Roast himself. I thought the plot line was by far the most interesting out of the four regional phenomas, and certainly a curveball from what we had experienced in BOTW. There, Death Mountain was full of lava and often a nightmare to explore without a fireproof elixir or the Flamebreaker armour that was only attainable in Goron City. The lava was caused by the Divine Beast Vah Rudania rampaging round Death Mountain, but now as all of the giant Sheikah tech has been Thanos snapped out of existence, the lava is no more. It always bugged me that the disappearance of the Sheikah technology was never properly explained in game. I remember looking around for any remnants of the past game, not expecting much but to find almost nothing bar the Skyview Towers was disappointing. Obviously, I wasn't expecting Guardians to make a return as cool as that would have been but having places like the Shrine of Resurrection be totally nullified and just a small pool rubbed me the wrong way. Back to the Gorons then. Yunobo has never really been my kind of guy. It might have to do with my fondness of Daruk, and Yunobo can't seem to get close to the levels of the Goron champion for me. I don't mind characters that are timid and afraid, yet develop the courage to fight alongside you, it's just some things he does and some things he says that are just plain annoying. Like at Hyrule Castle near the end of the game, when all four sages save you from Ganondorf's gloom again. Whilst everyone is admitting and wary of the threat Ganondorf possesses, Mr Yunobo here is panicking for his life. Did being not only a Champion descendant AND a sage give you any balls? Do Gorons even have balls? All the other sages are on par or even better in my opinion than the Champions in BOTW. They were fleshed out characters given strength through the spin off Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity, but it was only because of their strong performances in BOTW that made them it so rewarding to see more of them. I'm very satisfied if we never see Yunobo again to be frank. Hey, at least he says Silver the Hedgehog's favourite line: "It's no use!." After saving Yunobo from his mind-control mask, he joins you as you have to scale up a lava-less Death Mountain to get to its crater and dive into the depths to uncover the secrets of the ancients. I will admit, Yunobo's ability is arguably the most valuable in the moments you need it, like breaking rocks or firing at enemies. I did have a lot of fun using him to break massive deposits in the depths, but his combat ability is USELESS. Where Tulin is fantastic with his bow range, sometimes to my detriment as he attacks enemies I have no interest in fighting, Yunobo's AI is utter donkey doodle. It came to the point where I was turning his vow in battles because his presence was a hindrance more often than not. It also doesn't help he's a chunky boy, but what Gorons aren't? Eventually you take down the 'Boss' at the top of the Mountain and plunge into the Depths for the Fire Temple. No wonder Nintendo used a lot of this area for 'marketing' material for the underground, it's the only remotely 'different' looking environment down there! We'll get to Depths in due course don't worry, just another 200 hours left to talk about first! This was one of my first encounters down there, and boy did it make a good impression on me. Whilst the journey from the chasm to the temple was quite boring, the Temple itself was one of my favourites IF you do it the intended way. The problem for the Temple, which is a problem I thought was inevitable from the moment I started playing this game, was that it can be totally broken with the game's mechanics and lack of linearity. The dungeon is massively open, with barely any walls caving you in to a particular area, meaning you can traverse it in whatever way fits, and if you were like me and had plenty of hours in the game, you could easily use plenty of Zonai devices to go round it rather than the intended method of Mine carting. Fortunately for me, I'm an idiot, and did things the vanilla way, and got a lot of good use out of the dungeon. I thought its puzzles whilst, once again, had no relation to one another, were well designed and interesting. I remember struggling a lot with a few of the puzzles but only because my experience with creating devices and using them was limited. After all, my main method of traversing Hyrule so far has been...walking, and the occasional horse ride after I got Zelda's horse back again and called it Link, so Zelda can finally ride h- If anything, the boss was an absolute breeze. It was nice to see Gohma appear again, or a Gohma to be exact. To me it felt like a lot of inspiration from Wind Waker was taken in the bosses, having an Ice Molgera and now an 'Armoured' Gohma in the fire themed dungeon, the Zelda team's got taste! With that, two dungeons are down and things are looking up for my playthrough. I once again traversed Hyrule in my search for more memories in order before making my way to the third main quest of the game, Zora's Domain. It only took me...(checks notes), 9 months to make it there. 9 months?!? I could have given birth in the time it took me to recruit my newest Sage, but a lot had happened to me in that time. Firstly, Pikmin 4 came out at this time, and this was my jam. As good as TOTK is, and I still think it’s the better game, nothing and I mean NOTHING comes in the way of my Pikmin. Remember when I said I got Pikmin 3 for Christmas in 2013; I finished that game and didn't finish Wind Waker HD. Noticing a pattern? 10 years later, the same thing was happening again. I made that game my identity for a month and unfortunately, I wasn't in the time and space for juggling two games at once. If I were going to play a game on the side, it would have been Smash Bros. or Mario Kart, because Pikmin is a game you need your full attention in. Ironically, this also came at a time I had more free time. I had quit my job as a bartender due to overworking and well, minimum wage and was free from university from the summer. Surely that would have allowed more time to play games. Nope. I don't work that way unfortunately. I am someone who still and will probably always see gaming as a guilty pleasure. Ever since I came back into the world of academia and University, any time I spend gaming or leisuring to my brain is guilt provoking, and I tell myself I can't do it. It might have to do with not falling back into the trap that led me down in lockdown. Back then, playing all these amazing games, in particular the 3D (and many 2D) Zelda's was rewarding and fulfilling and not guilt provoking because my purpose in life wasn't found yet. Here in 2023, I am on the right track, but playing games for so long reminds me of the unhealthy person I was back then and it becomes hard and near on impossible to feel like playing games is rewarding. Back to the point, I would limit playing to 2-3 hours a day maximum, even when I had little on. That's probably why progress in TOTK came at such a slow rate. 15 hours a week is nowhere near enough progress towards 100%, and there were plenty of days the Switch was never picked up. It got to September and well, I had unlocked the next memory and found a boat load of Korok Seeds. Nothing really sticks out to me from my playthrough at that time when I was playing it. Of course I was still having fun, but making little progress was becoming tedious and motivation levels started to drop. It didn't help that I was seeing so many games on the horizon that I was really looking forward to that I pre-empted would stop my progress exponentially. Games like Super Mario Bros. Wonder and Sonic Superstars were coming out within a week of one another, and I knew they were going to take over my life in the same way Pikmin did for a good chunk of time. It almost made TOTK not worth playing because I could already see the month long gap in-between playthroughs, which always makes things harder getting back into the swing of things. Of course, all the mechanics and controls don't leave me so picking the game up isn't difficult. When you build up so much momentum with anything really and then leave it for some time, getting back is always the hardest part, and don't I know it from my university work. The numbers probably tell the story better than I can. In 2020, my first full year with the Nintendo Switch, I clocked 1,940 hours. That's over 5 hours a day, EACH day that I was spent with the Switch. Those numbers aren't even healthy for a relationship, never mind for a platonic one with a console! Compare that to how many hours I clocked in in 2023, 291, dropping to 191 in 2024, before rising slightly to around 250 in 2025, partly due to the shining new Switch 2 that occupied my summer. Of course not all of these hours were spent in Hyrule. In total, I have 850 hours between both titles split over four years. The difference is, one half of the total came in 3 months and the other in 3 years. It didn't take me this long because I stopped loving video games. If anything, this entire article probably proves the opposite. What changed was everything around them. Breath of the Wild arrived at a time when I had an almost unlimited amount where I could treat Hyrule as an alternate universe, one where all my fears and worries of the real world can disappear. It became my life in the time I played it. Tears of the Kingdom couldn't take that handle. Instead, it served as a supplement to the life I was living. It arrived when I was working towards a university degree, working part-time, more responsibilities made it so that every time I played, I got a nagging feeling that every hour spent playing was an hour I should have spent doing something more 'productive'. My relationship with gaming changed during this time. I had found other interests, other passions that meant just as much to me as video games. Tears of the Kingdom accompanied my life in the same vein the Sages did to Link, always being there for when he wanted his adventure to continue. Hyrule was always waiting for me for whenever I wanted to come back. The gaps in between playing in itself, became part of the story. The months I didn't touch the game are equally as important as the ones I did play it in this story, 6 years is a LONG time remember. The person I was when I first ventured into Hyrule is VERY different to the one leaving it! I know a lot of us might look back fondly at lockdown for some of the moments it gave us during a treacherous time. For example, I remember the four Formula 1 drivers of Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Alexander Albon and George Russell all streaming themselves playing games with one another, something impossible without the pandemic. As many memorable moments I remember, I think a part of me still clings onto that time as a pre-curser to my unhealthy habits, that made me gain weight and put myself in an even worse headspace. My way of combatting that is to limit my screen time, both with video games and other leisure activities, things I would pride myself on living daily on during 2020. I was afraid of allowing myself to become as consumed as I was in 2020, with Breath of the Wild but also my lifestyle as a whole. Of course, being in university meant that that was not going to happen, but I am a man of constant habits, and it's still something I am managing to this day. There was one thing I remember at this time that interested me about the game deeply, and it so happened to be the place I had been abandoning all this time. The Depths, and in particular, a certain banana-bandit that was thwarting me. One of the stars of the show in TOTK (partly because he remembers what Link did to him in BOTW), Glory to Master Kohga! One thing I was afraid of when playing TOTK was that the game would fail to be treated as a sequel. Overall, my worries did come true and barely anyone seems to remember the events of BOTW, despite it taking place 7 years after apparently. Except for one magnificent master of the Yiga Clan. I like Kohga in BOTW, but my fondness for his character grew exponentially with Age of Calamity, which despite its canonic-less story, gave Kohga the one thing he was missing, a voice. And what a voice he gets. It sums up the chaotic nature of the man, and I was so looking forward to what he had in store in TOTK. The Yiga had a major upgrade in the sequel I feel. From being camped almost exclusively inside Gerudo Canyon to being ALL over the Depths thanks to Kohga, I really enjoyed my time with them. For once, I felt compelled to explore the Depths purely for the Yiga questline. As basic and barebones as it was, it was fun to create that sort of structure in a place that rarely has one, bar the two Temples down there. Kohga is his natural goofy self once again, but his boss battles have gone up exponentially. He is the only battle that really uses the auto build and the Zonai devices to a worthy extent, if you exclude Mineru's Construct Battle (that we will get to shortly). My only negative about the quest was a lack of voice for Master Kohga. He would have been perfect to showcase his anger at Link and the Zonai devices not working for him. But, alas, it was not to be. I purposely limited my exploration of the underground, not to overload or sidetrack myself too much because what was happening above was far more interesting to me. It was also due to the fact that I didn’t feel like the Depths offered me any sense of structure. Whereas in the overworld you are directed to certain areas for quests and what not, in the depths, there is nothing like that for the most part, which was something that put me off. I am someone who lives for structure, giving my life structure, and that also translates to the games I play. If you couldn’t tell from my playthrough so far, it has A LOT of structure, compared to the lack of it the game presents. Whilst this is something I enjoyed doing on the overworld and in the sky, in the depths, was totally different. Something bugged me about going down there. The lack of any interesting environments, unique to one another, barely any unique characters or questlines or story lore, a lot of repeat bosses and just a gloomy atmosphere as a whole made it so unwelcoming. For that, they did such a good job! I think the Depths are meant to be foreboding, to feel like a place you ought not to be, but for me as an explorer it failed to leave a mark on me, hence why I left 90% of it to the end of my playthrough. Doing the Yiga questline allowed for that essence of structure to override the lack of motivation and willingness to explore the Depths, purely for Master Kohga’s reactions. That was enough for me to pump a few hours into the story to find out his fate, and it was by far the most enjoyable thing I remember about my exploration down there. Whereas in the overworld, my exploration was driven by curiosity, wondering what’s over that hill, the depths was exploration driven by purpose. I KNEW Master Kohga was in these locations, and I wanted to find the bastard. I do remember my first foray into the Depths and being mind blown that there was an entirely different world underneath the land of Hyrule. Being an inverse to the land too, mines beneath settlements gave an excellent underlying idea, but, that sense of discovery wore off quicker than Kohga’s rocket launcher. My playstyle massively contradicted the Depths’ purpose. I wanted to explore everything I could in this game, where the overworld wanted me to, the Depths would have told me, you sure? Whereas the land of Hyrule was one meant to be basked and adored, explored to your heart’s content, the Depths became a place that was only ever meant to be visited, not lived in. Master Kohga wasn’t the only thing I had done down in the Depths in that time, however. Near the end of 2023, somehow when I found the time, I managed to finish my third temple, this time being, the Spirit Temple. Once again, I did things out of order that in theory I was not meant to. I was exploring the Faron region, in particular the Lurelin Village area after uncovering the memory of Queen Sonia’s death, where I discovered a shroud of clouds of Lightning masking a sea of islands. I hadn’t got the Thunder Helm at this point, but I only needed to get to the Dragonhead Island to randomly discover the Head of Mineru’s Construct, and from that point on, it was a pretty straight line through the Construct Factory and the Temple. I think it goes without saying that the Spirit Temple was one of the more forgettable aspects of the game. Where I can recall all the other dungeons and the stories and questlines revolving around them, I cannot recall anything memorable about the Temple. I barely remembered the Boss until it appeared again in the final area where the Sages leave you with Ganondorf. It probably came at a time I was barely playing the game due to my other commitments, but its lack of identity and well, good design prohibits it from being but a small memory of my playthrough. But once again, I and the game allowed me to play and observe what is meant to be a late-game challenge much earlier than it was supposed to. Thankfully, the lore that Mineru teaches you is more of the same we had already experienced, rather than a giant brand-new revelation of Zelda becoming the Light Dragon, but it still feels off. I got that weird feeling at the time that I wasn’t meant to get here straight away. I mean, no quest marker was made so obviously I had done things out of sequence. Once again, TOTK had rewarded me for exploring somewhere I probably wasn’t supposed to be yet, while simultaneously allowing me to stumble into another part of its story completely out of order. This was where I stood as I headed into 2024. Over 150 hours of gameplay, and barely halfway done with the game. It stuck with me the monumental task that lay ahead, especially with my final year of university coming up too. I had started another job at the time, meaning I was making more money that I wanted to spend on upcoming games. TOTK was between a rock and a hard place, and what didn’t help was my stupid decision to replay a certain game from 1998, that was a revolutionary title for its genre, one I had already played before. If you don’t know, I’m talking about Spyro the Dragon. Just kidding, I replayed Ocarina of Time…again. At the time, I was with my girlfriend, and she was living with me in my university flat. We would spend a lot of time together and one of the things we liked to do was play games (Duh). We played the whole of Mario Bros. Wonder together, but she also wanted to play Zelda games too. However, I was NOT going to streamline my playthrough of TOTK just for her (and quite frankly, not for anyone), so my next best option was in my opinion the definitive Zelda experience for someone like her. It also helped that at the same time, the Zelda movie had been announced, and a lot of people were on the OOT hype train as a lot of people predicted that the movie would take a lot of inspiration from that instalment. I mean, now with the remake on the way, it would make sense… Regardless, the first two months of 2024 were some of my favourite memories playing games. We went through OOT and then went straight for Majora’s Mask, which unfortunately meant that TOTK had to take a major backseat, I can’t juggle two Zelda’s at once c’mon not even Link could! One notable thing I do remember about these playthroughs was my enjoyment of the structure and going from one point to the next, and how I tried to relate that into my TOTK journey. But also, there was a lack of wonder or discovery playing these games again. I was often going through things at a rate of knots because I knew what I was doing, where I was going. TOTK is the opposite, where my brain instantly directs me off course to look at something in the distance, to discover the unknown. That sense was what I think was keeping me going with the game, despite the multiple long gaps. I love both the traditional Zelda’s and the Wild era games, but I don’t want one to become the other. It was enjoyable to appreciate what makes the older games stand out, whilst appreciating what the new games have added. It’s probably why I love both Echoes of Wisdom and A Link Between Worlds so much, both are brilliant examples of marrying the two concepts together, the former especially so, and that’s what makes these games and this franchise so special and meaningful to me. Another thing that I think was so rewarding and it’s something I have already touched on, was the sense of something is always ready to be collected. Barely anything in both BOTW and TOTK requires you to have a certain ability or number of hearts, excluding the Master Sword, so every time you turn a corner is something awaiting you. The anticipation was almost greater than the actual reward, especially for TOTK, when the wait was so long in between sessions. After collecting 1900 Korok Seeds in the past 6 years, I know of a crap (literally) reward, but that’s the magic of both of these games of suggesting something might be here is pulled off so well. The possibility itself became part of the appeal, and that was the nucleus of my journey. I eventually picked the game up proper during March 2024, when some of my commitments had ended and I had a slight bit more time on my hands. This is when I finally made my way to Zora’s Domain, the home of Hyrule’s favourite smile and handsome boy toy, Sidon. One of my core memories with BOTW was my journey towards Zora’s Domain. In that game, the Zora area is where you are hinted towards exploring first, after visiting Kakariko for the first time. I remember everything from that experience. From seeing Sidon at the bridge at the bottom of the path to the Domain, making my way up in a rain-soaked environment, where my hate towards unclimbable surfaces started, seeing the Domain for the first time, learning of Mipha’s relationship with Link from 100 years ago, going to Ploymus Mountain, and that Lynel experience. Looking back, I was so bad at these games. I must have died at least 20 times to that bastard just to get the Shock Arrows. Now, these guys are easy fodder for me, but that is perhaps something I miss. That feeling of facing a god like deity that you have no chance of winning against, was something I rarely experienced in TOTK, because I felt so confident playing the game from day one. Well, apart from the Gleeoks. I will say that they more than made up for the lack of difficulty I imposed on myself simply by doing everything. Unfortunately, Gleeoks are not tied down to any certain main quest, which that Lynel was, which I thought was a missed opportunity. A casual player could do all of the main quests and never face one. The freedom of the game is cool, but it means the main adventure can sometimes avoid some of the game’s best tests of mastery, unless you are a Twilight Princess fan and want the Armour set, you have to beat the King Gleeok in the Depths for the Cap, so if you’re like me, you made it part of your main quest. I loved everything about the Zora quest in BOTW and remember it so fondly. Those feelings were reciprocated when I returned to Zora’s Domain four years later. Coming back to the Domain felt more like coming home than any other place in Hyrule. More than any other village, more than Hyrule Castle, heck, more than Hateno where Link’s home canonically is, or was, I don’t know if Link and Zelda live together but who cares. The strongest memories I had with BOTW was when the adventure felt so new, so fresh, and amazingly, when I was at my worst playing it. Now, as I have gotten better at games, in particular Zelda games, I am reminded of a time when this wasn’t the case. As BOTW was so different from the experiences I had had previously at the time, I sucked at it. But with the game’s nature, it kept making me experiment, getting better in the process, and those are the game’s best strengths and arguably where progression shines the most, not from what you are collecting, but how. A game can get so much better the better you are at it, it’s probably why I love Mario Kart so much, I am good at it (most of the time), but there was once a time I wasn’t, and that’s what makes the experiences so worthwhile. But as competence makes playing more satisfying, it can also remove that fear and wonder. That feeling of challenge, an overwhelming sensation that your opponent has you outmatched. Even take the final Ganondorf fight, the extended health bar for as bad ass as it is, didn’t faze me, because I was well too experienced to lose to him. I was full of weapons, materials, meals and potions that nothing was going to get in my way. But a slight part of me wishes I felt threatened by it, not having the upper hand in battles made winning so much better. The (very small) problem I have with TOTK and its combat, is that it’s no different to BOTW at its core. Especially beating Lynels for example. The process is the exact same, just if anything, with more items at your disposal. Despite losing all of his hearts and materials at the start of TOTK, I hadn’t lost what BOTW had taught me. Link might have felt different, but I certainly didn’t, and maybe that’s why bosses didn’t have that staying power on me, because I rarely struggled. Only the first few Gleeok encounters were worth noting for me. There is a strange joy in being awful at a game you’re falling in love with! Back to Zora’s Domain in BOTW, I remember loving the environment so much. I am a sucker for water levels in video games, unless its from a Sonic game, then you can forget it, sorry Hydrocity Zone. The aesthetic of water in video games is something I love, and Zora’s Domain is a prime example of that. It looks so elegant, so classy, so well looked after, and the Zora are so cool too. I mean, of course they are, Sidon exists. No wonder he was such a fan favourite in BOTW. Out of all the champions/sages, he might be my favourite, edging out Urbosa and Daruk. He is just that guy. He was the first character I remember encountering “on my own” in BOTW, as I had been directed to Kakariko and Impa from King Rhoam before. Sidon was my first “Wow” character I ran into, and what a character. Of course, it helps that he is quite handsome I will admit, and who can say no to that smile :D. You have to bear in mind, that my experience with the series up until the point of BOTW was half of Wind Waker. Characters like Tetra, Aryll, Medli, Makar really didn’t make a huge impression on me, partially because I didn’t stick their stories out, and after I finished Wind Waker, I grew a fondness for their characters. Sidon became one of my first major characters I met when Zelda became my franchise, and of course, the Zora weren’t present in Wind Waker apart from the Sage I can’t remember but also didn’t get far enough to see. Seeing him again after so many years did feel like seeing an old friend more so than anyone else in Tears of the Kingdom, and seeing his progression mirrored my own. We are both in different times of our lives. Not saying we grew up together, but we both changed from the time we first met, and that’s something rewarding especially for my playthrough. Sidon and the Domain became a place that reminded me why I fell in love with this version of Hyrule in the first place. Coming back evoked a feeling of returning somewhere familiar after my own life had moved considerably forward. Feelings of being back in 2020 came back, now this time with the experience of over 500 hours playing with this Link and all of his cool abilities. It was almost nostalgic, which seems unfathomable. 3 years can’t evoke senses of nostalgia surely? Well, I don’t think there is an age limit to nostalgia. There are moments in my life in the past 3-5 years I am nostalgic over, going to my first F1 Grand Prix for example. For my version of Link, I feel like he would have felt nostalgic as well, assuming he liked Sidon as much as I did. It was also great that the Zora actively acknowledge your journey in BOTW, saving the Domain from Vah Ruta, with the statue of Link riding Sidon. No other village does that, it is a great example of the sequel continuity that I so desperately wanted more of from the rest of Hyrule, especially for big key areas. In fact, barely any other characters remember Link from saving their asses in the past. Mind you, there are some new characters that weren’t present in BOTW, so I will let them slide. One of which lies in Zora’s Domain and so happens to be the person Sidon fell in love with. NOT LINK??? I actually like Yona, although she was barely utilised apart from being kind wife of Sidon’s. That’s ok though, we are here for the main course. The actual quest this time was nowhere near as good unfortunately suffice to say. It had so much potential, exploring the bottom of the same area that Divine Beast Vah Ruta was in BOTW, but the area was so underbaked. The puzzles beforehand were cool, shooting one of the King’s Scales through the tear drop was pretty cool. But I can’t lie, going up to the Sky, up to Wellspring Island, was so underwhelming. I’m usually a sucker for anti-gravity situations; Super Mario Galaxy is my favourite game of all time for crying out loud. But this just felt so clunky. Some of the puzzles were cool, but so unmemorable. I largely just used a lot of rockets to traverse upwards towards the Temple, which I already knew wasn’t going to impress me from the way it looked. Water Temples have never been Zelda’s strong suits. Even though the one in OOT gets way too much slack, ones like the Great Bay, or Lakebed aren’t much better, and I have to say, TOTK adds another to the list. What a letdown of a dungeon for my boy Sidon. I’m glad this isn’t the place I headed to first, and the Rito area was instead, because this left a nasty impression of dungeons. Not only was the dungeon able to be cheesed massively, but it also just lacked a theme and identity, where the Wind and Fire Temple prior definitely did. Even Water Temples of the past have had good theming and was pleasant to look at. This one was forgettable in so many ways, and that transcends to the boss itself. I’m glad for Sidon’s Sage ability, purely for this boss fight. I think they purposely dragged this boss out with the sludge purely so it wouldn’t last two seconds, because there is nothing memorable about Mucktorok. Sure, having a boss designed on one of the series most iconic enemies, I mean, what enemy has Link said he’s so hungry he could eat one of them? But it’s happened before, in Minish Cap, and done so much better. The good thing was that another big hurdle towards my journey of completion had been overcome, Sidon had become my latest ally that I turned off because he hogged the screen, and also the fact that only one more dungeon area was left to discover, all the way in the South-West corner of the map, Gerudo Town. But that wasn’t going to be quite straightforward. I set myself a goal to leave that area till the end, partially because I was expecting a difficulty rise given the nature of Thunderblight Ganon and Divine Beast Vah Naboris in Breath of the Wild. I felt like having that area to end on, would not only feel rewarding as the Desert would be notoriously easier to explore compared to the mountains of other regions (oh boy I was wrong), as well as having one of my favourite areas to rediscover as a sense of reward for making it all the way there, as the climax of my journey in the main land of Hyrule was to come to a conclusion. Gerudo became my reward for finishing the Surface, however, I had to complete all the other conditions before I could consider venturing onto the desert path. Completing all the other memories, getting all the other Skyview Towers, getting as many Korok Seeds in the areas I had discovered, doing all the side quests, shrines, anything that had a reward I wanted it. My completionist brain knew that I had to have something fulfilling towards the end of my ‘surface’ journey, hence why a dungeon and a storyline makes perfect sense, and the fact I was looking forward to seeing Riju and best sand seal Patricia again! I gave myself the mindset of not allowing myself to go there too early because I ‘hadn’t earned it’ yet. This wasn’t something Nintendo told me to do; I imposed it on myself. Transforming TOTK’s freedom into my own progression system. So that was it then, I had a plan set in stone to make that my mission of clearing the Gerudo area and the final main quest at the end of my journey exploring the game as I have been for 200 hours at this point. With that then, my adventure had begun, it doesn’t sound so hard right? Give it another year and I might be at the finish line? No, try another year. I finally reached Gerudo Town in March 2026, 2 years after finishing the Water Temple. A large part of my playthrough was spent delaying the inevitable. Eventually, this game would finish, there would be nothing left to do. No more inches of Hyrule to explore, nothing more to collect, nothing more to see. Every time I put the controller down after a session was a step closer to this inevitability that I didn’t want to oppose for so long, and I keep wondering to myself why that is. With other video games, I have never had this sensation, this feeling. This existential dread to not want to finish it. Every game I finish I look forward to finishing for a multitude of reasons. It could be to see and talk about the discourse online if it is a recent release, to watch reviews or reactions on YouTube, to push me to find something new, but not with Tears of the Kingdom. My enjoyment with the game was making me delay the end, and the fact I was taking so damn long playing it for a start. For so long, I thought the destination was more important than the journey. Rolling credits was so overwhelming to me that the way I got there was getting more and more complicated by the day. I felt like prolonging my adventure was keeping me sane, knowing that there is something there that needs finishing was enough motivation for me to edge myself closer little by little to the end goal, without feeling like it was too far away. At the time of March 2024, I would say I was 50% done with the game. I had around 500 Korok seeds, all the armour sets available in the overworld, so many locations and bosses complete. I was set for a while. I think the main reason that put me off wanting to beat the game was the fear of having nothing left, especially in Zelda. Looking back, it was lucky the time I played Breath of the Wild was the time after the news of a sequel had been announced, so even finishing that game still felt like there was more to come eventually down the road, even if it took 3 years. Even then, I still had all the other Zelda games, 2D and 3D to revisit for the first time, so finishing BOTW was a motivation for me to keep playing and experiencing this franchise that I have just fell in love with. With Tears of the Kingdom, there wasn’t anything like that. Yes, we had Echoes of Wisdom come out, and Hyrule Warriors: Age of Imprisonment in the time of TOTK’s release, and now with the new Ocarina of Time remake scheduled for this year, but these games aren’t part of this chapter of my life. Finishing TOTK would signal the end of this part of my life, going full circle after starting with BOTW. Of course, I am sure the Zelda team are hard at work with the next 3D Zelda game for Switch 2, and will more than likely be a masterpiece, but that will happen later down the line, when I could be a totally new person. If release schedules for 3D Zelda games remain consistent, the game will likely release in 2029. I will be 27, and more than likely a totally different person to the man I am now, just like I am completely different now to the person I was when I beat BOTW for the first time in 2020. Moments or chapters of our lives can be symbolised and timestamped with the things we experience, especially with media, and video games for me are at the forefront of that argument. I was 7 years old when I beat Mario Galaxy for the first time, and I still remember that so fondly. Every main Mario release signifies a chapter of my life, and I feel that way for Zelda now. There will never be another Zelda game experienced by this exact version of me. Beating Tears of the Kingdom was in essence, the closure of this chapter of my life…but I wasn’t ready yet. It might just be my completionist mindset, but in a game where there is so much to do, having nothing left to do feels so demoralising, like it wasn’t intended to be that way. In smaller games, completing it often doesn’t feel like much, but in a game as big as TOTK, doing everything means more than percentage numbers on a screen, or boxes ticked, or medals and rewards obtained. It means the lack of new things to do. When something is so predominantly part of your life as completing both BOTW and TOTK have been for me in these past 6 years, having nothing left in these massive worlds feels worse than the things I have collected and have experienced. For six years, and for three of those in TOTK exclusively, Hyrule had always promised me that there was something else out there. Finishing everything meant eventually breaking that promise myself. I was at war with myself, in two minds wanting to do everything but at the same time, not wanting nothing left for me to do. My completionism was somehow doing two completely contradictory things at once. Every box I ticked brought me closer to the ending, but my insistence on ticking every single box made sure that ending stayed further away. The very thing pushing me towards finishing Tears of the Kingdom was also protecting me from having to finish it. It was so difficult, because the more I played the game, the more I realised just how unique this experience would be. Every discovery was something I could never discover for the first time again. Every puzzle would never be fresh again, every music theme, everything. The reward for experiencing everything was losing the ability to experience anything new. I wasn’t scared of never being able to play TOTK again, I was scared of never being able to discover TOTK again. I’ll never be able to hear Dragon Roost’s motif in Colgera’s theme without knowing its coming. I will never be able to wonder if a certain puzzle works for a shrine, or if a certain item can be used for a quest. It comes back to the essence of wonder that will be gone on second playthroughs. Doing everything made this worse by the day, but I knew I had to keep going with this mindset because I was so driven in the first place, and when I start something, I always finish it. As I said, progress took a LOOOONG time, and it wasn’t meant to be this way. I was still enjoying the hell out of the game, albeit with not as many ‘exciting’ things to do as dungeons, but I was still getting my fill. I remember going back to Tarrey Town for the first time in around summer of 2024, one of my favourite parts of this duology. Like Zora’s Domain, it felt like coming home for a different reason. This is the place I helped create, and to see the development was so rewarding. Can you tell I like it when TOTK calls back to its prequel? Unfortunately, that is the only real thing I remember from my playthrough at the time. I am always someone who enjoys screenshotting on my Nintendo Switch, whether it be key moments or to remember something, I get a lot of use out of the Capture button. But I only recorded 2 screenshots between March 2024 and March 2025, the reveal of Zelda’s transformation for me. I don’t remember a whole abundance of what I even played during this time. I remember Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door came out and that took a chunk of time to beat, and I finally got around to beating Xenoblade 3: Future Redeemed, but other than that, I wasn’t playing much and the hours I showed before tell that better than I could. I suppose I was travelling a bit during that summer, and the essence of the Switch was dying down around this time. The Switch 2, or at that time, “The Successor to the Nintendo Switch” was soon to be announced and attention switched a lot to speculation of that rather than the console we currently had. This got me thinking, would Tears of the Kingdom get a Switch 2 edition? Maybe 60fps and a resolution increase would finally persuade me to jump back in for good, because as it stood, I was only dipping my toes in rather than getting wet. There was heavy rumours that BOTW was to get that treatment, so it was reasonable to expect the same for Tears. This was also around the time I entered my final year of university. That, coupled with my commitments with American Football at the time gave me any leeway with my Switch, and it started collecting dust. It was only after March, when my final project was submitted and my football season had ended, that I could take a moment to breathe. Of course, this is when I finally got back into the swing of things with TOTK and discovered Zelda’s revelation. When I did watch the cutscene, due to the long gap of playing, I struggled to resonate with it in the way I had planned. Think about it. I went on earlier about my connection with this iteration of Princess Zelda, the journey her and I had been on, and to see her make such a demanding and cruel sacrifice for her Kingdom and for Link, as heartbreaking as it was, didn’t get to me like I thought it should. I’m not the most emotional person in the world, although I have had my fair share of cries when experiencing video games. I still remember my exact reaction to THAT moment in Xenoblade 3 Chapter 5 which had me bawling for the heavens, and certain endings to games have given tears to the eyes. It is so nice to see people react to Zelda’s sacrifice in the way it was intended. Despair, heartache, tragedy, sorrow, all these feelings that are advocated so well with most people I know. But not for me, due to the nature of me already knowing her fate. Of course, the scene itself is gut-wrenching, but it could have been so much more impactful for me had the game allowed me to experience it in its full intention. It’s not all doom and gloom of course. By the time this had happened, the Switch 2 had been unveiled and planned for release in the summer, with both BOTW AND TOTK receiving Switch 2 upgrades. This was exactly what I needed to bring me back, is what I thought would be the case. A new Zelda notes thing too? It looked brilliant. So why did I do a full replay of Zelda: Wind Waker before even touching TOTK Switch 2 edition??? Again, it all comes round to this idea of stalling, delaying the inevitable. Wind Waker was cosy, comforting. It was something I was familiar with. Finishing it didn’t seem like as big of a deal as I had envisioned TOTK would be. I was doing everything to stop myself from committing to finishing this game. It’s ironic that the game I failed to finish as an 11-year-old was the game I retreated to because I didn’t want to finish Tears of the Kingdom. At that time, Zelda hadn’t grabbed me as a franchise, hadn’t pulled me in like it’s older brother Mario. 13 years later, it means as much to me as any piece of media in my life, and its probably why I used Wind Waker as an escape mechanism. It held my attention when I needed something to stop me from finishing Zelda’s biggest game. Unfortunately, that was more of an overarching feeling for me at this time, which stopped me from coming back to the game. I was nowhere near approaching the end game of course, but for the first time in my playthrough, it was on my mind. Giving myself a small ‘end goal’ of getting to Gerudo Town was in itself a small ‘finish’, but it signalled that things were coming to an end. At one point, I would have to finish the game. But rather than enjoying this feeling, I let it linger to the point it put me off, because I didn’t want the game to be over, I wanted to keep exploring and discovering. It also didn’t help that 2025 was a terrible year for my wallet when it comes to video games. Not only was Mario Kart World a mainstay in my game rotation, but Donkey Kong also Bananza AND Hollow Knight Silksong were two games that I had to get my hands on and play. DK should need no introduction; it gave me that 3D Mario fix that I had been missing whilst also being so good and so unique in the process. The games came out perfectly for each other, as the day I finished Bananza was the day before I started Silksong. Hollow Knight as a franchise was in a similar position to Zelda as in, these two series had games that took so long to come out that I played the first one to get myself prepared for the second one. What’s different about Silksong compared to TOTK is probably that Zelda means more than just a franchise to me now. Silksong for as amazing as it was, felt miniscule in comparison to TOTK as a representation of me and who I am, and who I was when I first started playing these games. I got done with that game in January, and it is one of my favourite games of all time. Finishing Silksong in a relatively short time span of five months didn’t give me any negative feelings of dread or the fact that, there’s nothing left to do. Partially because DLC had already been announced by the time I had finished it, but also, this series might not last forever. It probably will because it keeps getting better and racks more money in from the developers. But compared to Zelda, which will be a part of Nintendo’s identity until they die, Hollow Knight might not last as long. Still, I didn’t feel as much remorse for finishing it as I did Zelda, but with the game out of the way, there weren’t many distractions left for me to face. I had to address the elephant in the room eventually. Thankfully, my memory of playing TOTK this year is much better than the vividness of the two years prior. I had slowly been chugging along at the game here and there, unlocking the last few Sky Towers and exploring these areas fully. My penultimate region I explored was that of West Necluda and in particular, Kakariko Village. The area that you are guided to going first on your journey in BOTW, was the one that I experienced near the end of my playthrough in TOTK made it feel like we were going full circle. I remember spending so much time there in BOTW, both in my original playthrough and my other saves where I would fool around in the area just because I enjoyed it so much. It’s not as fresh in TOTK unfortunately, even with the Zonai Ring Ruins inhabiting the land, but it was nice to feel welcomed back. With that area concluded, I could now set my sights on the place I had been putting off for over 2 years. Gerudo Town, and the final main story quest, was finally underway. At this point, a big psychological change had occurred for me with my playthrough. For 2 years, Gerudo Town was a destination, a goal, and end to a part of the journey, even if there is still a long way to go. Now, I had reached it, I felt rewarded, I could experience a cutscene again, experience part of the narrative that I had been withholding for quite some time. I finally felt like narratively speaking, I was making progress. But there was something else underlying that was way more important. Knowing that after Gerudo, there was nothing left of the overworld to explore. Of course, I had definitely missed plenty of things, as I was nowhere near the Korok count I had been expecting, considering I had explored everything I had, at least I thought. But after I had explored the area, nothing. I had conquered the Sky and the Surface to its extreme, and only the Depths remained. I was approaching my own endgame. Of course, I still had to explore all of the Gerudo area, Desert and part of the Highlands included, as well as the main quest and dungeon. I have to say, given two years of waiting, I wasn’t let down by this area. I am a sucker for Gerudo areas in Zelda games, especially ones done right. Of course, Gerudo Valley from OOT comes to mind for the music alone, but I always think Desert themed dungeons are up there with some of the series best. The Spirit Temple from OOT is my favourite in that game, same with the Arbiters Grounds from Twilight Princess, and Vah Naboris was my favourite Divine Beast from BOTW, I had high hopes for this iteration of Desert Temple. At first, I was not a fan of the whole sandstorm in the area, that prohibited me from making much progress exploring but if anything, made me want to do the main quest straight away to wipe the area from the blizzards. It was great to see Riju again, now much older, she has finally grown into her role as Gerudo Chief. It’s hard being the descendant of Urbosa, as that is such a hard role-model to try and replicate, but I think Riju does just fine. She shows a lot of character development across both games, and especially between instalments she has grown not just in size but in wisdom as well. Kind of like me, just without the wisdom. Where in BOTW, she felt like a kid’s first rodeo, now she seems perfectly accustomed to the role and I love that for her. Just a shame Patricia isn’t used as much in the main story this time around. Having Gerudo Town appear shrivelled and empty gave me more motivation than any other area to clear it off its decay. I thought the whole quest leading up to the dungeon was fun, even if I find the Gibdo’s in this game quite poor and non-threatening. Unlocking the Temple and fighting the boss before you even step foot in it was refreshing, even if the surprise at the end was already kind of spoiled, it gave me a good surprise and sense of expectation for the challenge that lied ahead. I think the Lightning Temple is my favourite dungeon in the game. It’s still nowhere near the series best, but it has some really solid ideas that are implemented well and with some real challenge that other dungeons really lacked. I had a blast playing it, using Riju’s ability whilst clunky to deploy was enjoyable to use and exploit, and the boss was fun. I was finally rediscovering my love for the game after not committing myself enough to play enough. With the dungeon complete and Gerudo Town restored, my final Sage was unlocked and thus began the beginning of the end. I had just one area to explore before it was all said and done. It did end up taking me a small bit of time to get everything I wanted done in the area. You can blame University for that, doing a Masters’ doesn’t half take its toll. No wonder they call it the Master Sword! Oh and Tomadochi Life as well, that took a lot of time to play too. By the time I had finished my exploration of the last area, it was the end of May. I could see the end in sight, kind of. Just because I had explored everything through my own eyes, didn’t mean I had experienced everything the game had to offer. No one’s perfect, and I am sure there were people that had similar experiences to me. Not using a guide and experiencing things completely on your own was bound to result in a few mistakes and a few things missed here or there. When I saw my Korok collection after exploring what I thought was everything, I see my counter and can barely believe what I saw. I had barely cracked the 800 mark. I was still nearly 200 off. How? I had explored everything, my Hero’s Path says so! At this point, I was at a wits end, I can’t rediscover everything blindly again just to find things I knew were missing. I had to look elsewhere for help, for the first time in my playthrough. Thankfully, as I was using the new and improved Switch 2 version, it came with a very handy feature, Zelda Notes. For those unaware, this is basically a guide within a guide. It details everything about your playthrough, both in stats and achievements, but also collects everything on its very own map that you can compare with your in-game one. It tracks EVERYTHING that counts to 100% completion, from Shrines, Towers, Lightroots, to Korok Seeds, Bosses, Quests, even Addison signs and Bubbul Gems, remember them? I made a bold decision that pained me to do, to finally finish everything on the Surface and in the Sky with these handy compendium. I was finally admitting that the end was approaching. After playing the game my way, with my own rules, regulations and schedules, I had done everything I could do in the overworld that I thought was possible. I knew my time was finite and that I couldn’t go around doing it all again, purely because that sounds torturous, even though this game is fantastic. I was at a point where I was all experienced out. I had my fill exploring this giant map for all its goodies, experiencing it on my own unique and sometimes complicated terms, so getting help did not invalidate the things I had done previously. I had to use assistance to give me that final push, and Zelda Notes was just the thing I needed. The rules I had implemented and been a part of me for three years now had to be broken somehow, even if it hurt to break. However, it was also a great motivator for me for having memories unlocked as well, with notes from Rauru, Zelda and MASTER KOHGA(!!!!!!) to explore and check out. It did help still that the app replaced my own structure with its own. It gave me numbers, lists, locations, objectives, things that I can mark as complete. Even if it was a total shift from the structure I had been following in the previous 300 hours of gameplay, it was a streamlined, intense one that still gave me that satisfaction and discovery, just slightly nuanced due to it guiding me there rather than me discovering things on my own. Where once, that wonder motivated me to discover, to find out about the unknown. That magic was the firepower that set alight my playthrough, that sense of adventure and discovery was born from that which Nintendo so expertly perfected. That exploration carried me for so long, but it had taken me as far as it could possibly go. It tried its hardest to get to the finish line but stumbled at the final hurdle. It now needed something to give a shoulder of support to get there. My motivation had changed. It became the lack of the unknown, for getting what you already know is there. To increase a number, a fulfilment, a step towards completion, CERTAINTITY. Zelda Notes gave me certainty that had been missing for my entire playthrough. Of course, I was going to discover Koroks, treasures, bosses, but what exactly was never set in stone. This new approach told me to the dime exactly what it was that I could expect, it gave structure to an ending that, until then, still felt endless. It shows how far I had come on my journey that there was no guilt or bad feelings for using an app as a guide, when at one point, it would have felt like cheating myself out of the experience. At the time, I felt so proud of what I had achieved and accomplished in this world across those 300 hours that trying again would have done more harm than good. Like a ketchup bottle, I oozed everything out of this world that I could get, there were just some parts that weren’t coming out without some help, so I needed help to wipe the bottle dry. I could have easily kept to my stubborn ways of going again to find everything I missed, but in essence, the rules that helped make TOTK so special to me eventually became rules that were preventing me from ever completing it. I had to adapt if I was going to get over the line. Asking for help finding what I’d missed couldn’t take those hundreds of hours away from me. I didn’t change the rules because I failed to follow them. They had simple served their purpose. If I hadn’t used the app, I would still be playing the game to this day, instead of writing about my experience completing it. That’s purely because of one glaring issue. I thought I had done so much in this game, so when I opened up the notes app for the first time, scrolled to the map and saw my completion percentage was in the 50’s, I was gobsmacked. 300 hours, and only 50% complete with the game?!?! Well, it wasn’t really a true statistic. That is only a map percentage, which doesn’t include certain things like armour sets and upgrades, recipes, memories or compendium entries. It isn’t a perfect representation of how much I had actually accomplished, because in essence, I had done so much more than that. But instead of telling myself I was halfway there, only 300 more hours to go, something changed inside of me. Where once I would wonder how much I had actually done in the game, pondering to myself how much I had left to explore, finally seeing that number gave me the fire to do something about it, to get that number to 100%, however long it took. The sense of wonder and uncertainty of what was left to discover was equally matched by the knowledge and certainty of knowing exactly how far I had to go. TOTK went from this vast open world with so many things to do, to a checklist, a finite number of things I had to conquer. Despite what the number said, I was in the final stretch, I was going to finish this game sooner or later. Chapter Five – The Final Battle When I first started Tears of the Kingdom, I didn’t care how long it took me to complete for one sole reason. I didn’t want the feeling, the sensation, the wonder to end. 3 years later, that mindset had finally run its course. No longer was I thinking about what I would do if I ever finished the game, I was now wondering how I was going to finish that game. Remember that mind clash I was having in the previous chapter? About my brain being at war deciding if I wanted to finish the game or not? There was an eventual winner, and it was going to carry me to that 100% goal no matter what condition I was in. I had finally found it, the motivation I had been missing for so long. But, whilst I found this, I lost something that I had been holding near and dear to me this whole time. That feeling of still having things to do in this game, the wonder. Not only did it lose the battle in my mind, but it also got neglected. I was no longer thinking about after the end, my only target was indeed, the end itself, and that’s something worth thinking about once we hit credits, in about 5,000 words from now more than likely. I was very lucky I was in a time when a lot of my commitments had subsided. University had finished; I had more free time, yet I still took quite a while to get everything wrapped up. Hunting everything down on the map was seeing visible progress with every icon fading, it became more rewarding than beforehand. It also helped that I was so well equipped, I could finally traverse this world in the way I had always wanted to, with cool Zonai gadgets of course. My playthrough for the most part had neglected a large part of these devices, mainly because I hadn’t been to the Depths enough to increase my energy cells. I just didn’t feel the need to use shortcuts and advancements to traverse the world, I wanted to be plain and vanilla. Now, the shackles had been released, the grips had been loosened. This world that I so intricately explored was no longer bound by my way of doing things. I could finally let loose and use the game’s unique features to my advantage, rather than leaving them to lay dormant. I never truly experimented enough with the Zonai Devices or for that matter, Autobuild. I’m old-school in that sense, I’d rather the developers lay out to me their ways of doing things rather than giving me so many options that sometimes it becomes overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, seeing so many interesting and unique creations on social media, especially when the game was at its peak interest, was something to behold. It just never tickled my fancy, I would rather walk or hitch a horse around Hyrule, in the hope I don’t miss anything. There was no sense of urgency to check every nook and cranny now. I was able to explore in whatever weird and wacky I thought best. I started using these gadgets to my advantage, both in combat and traversal. What I thought would be trivial ended up elevating my experience even further and made me question if I had discovered this too late. I think the main downfall of the Zonai devices are that none are required for really anything major, especially when it comes to beating the game. They are merely a tool to aid you in whatever way you see fit. I think it had its advantages and disadvantages, for me most of my playthrough would have been unaffected had they not been a part of the game. All except for the glorious hoverbike. If you’ve played TOTK, you know of this masterpiece of a vehicle invention. During my final 100 hours, I used this predominantly as a way to travel this world I had oozed so many hours into already. No longer was walking a suitable option. Where once it supported discovery, now it would just slow completion down. That’s what made the hoverbike so useful, getting from one point to another so seamlessly, it made me feel like a speedrunner, albeit with a 300 hour time. But it also represented a philosophy change, the old me didn’t want to miss anything, whereas now I already know what I needed. Every time I picked up my controller, percentages were rising. It was still a slow process, taking a few months to get everything done. But eventually, I got to a point where there was nothing left on both the Sky and Surface. That was it. I had completely obliterated this new version of Hyrule, with nothing left to check off, nothing left to discover. As bittersweet as it was at the time, I had no time to rest as there was still one big thing nagging me, one big entity I had put off for the majority of my playthrough, one that I could not avoid addressing any further, the Depths. The one place I had put off purely because unlike the world above, it didn’t invite me to explore, to see what lurked in every corner, to see what I was missing. Just like Link, I had to build up the courage to go down there and see it for myself. I did have one question I had to address before I started my exploration. I could’ve opted out of using Zelda Notes and explored it in a similar vein to Hyrule, or I could’ve streamlined my experience with the app and get done much quicker. I think you can tell based on when this is going out the answer to that question. Of course there isn’t as much to explore in the Depths, no sidequests or shrines or Koroks. It lacked the originality that made the overworld so magical to explore, it lacked that inviting nature. I didn’t feel pleased to go down there, I wasn’t compelled to see what it had to offer. I had been putting this area off for a large part of my playthrough, purely because of it’s unwelcoming atmosphere, but it was part of the completionist process. I mean heck, Ganondorf is there so I had to go down there eventually. The time was now July 2026, and my venture into the Depths had just begun. After seeing what lay ahead in terms of things I needed to check off my list, it became apparent that there was not much diversity in the underlayer. Most parts will look the same, and at the point I was at with my playthrough, I wasn’t as disappointed as I thought I would be. The only real downside was that having a second map in the scale of Hyrule meant traversing it was a nightmare and took a lot longer than I had thought. I thought 20 hours would suffice to get everything I needed done, to check everything off. I didn’t get anywhere close to that target. But look, at this point, it was all a numbers game. I had broken down everything I needed to get and was approaching this mission finally as a completionist. For so long, I was simply basking in this new world of Hyrule, picking up things as I went and strolling around leisurely with no end goal in sight. That had come and gone, and now the ambition was pointing me towards having nothing left to do. I had had my fun, now it was time to knuckle down and truly see what my completionist mindset is made of. The Depths took me a solid month to really fulfil and extract everything out of there. Not only did I have memories to pick up, Yiga camps to exploit, bosses to slay, treasures to find, but I was also at this point trying to piece all of the puzzles of completionist together, to truly work out how long I had left with this game. I was dipping in and out of the Depths, to gather materials or weapons or visit the Great Fairy for armour upgrades. When I did simmer down for a Depths session, I barely got as much done as I wanted. A three hour session could only make me complete a tenth of the map at best. Sometimes you forget just how big the world is until you try and do everything all at once. Regardless of how long it was taking, I was happy with the progress I was making and was committed to the task at hand. It no longer felt unachievable and instead felt like a goal I was going to get to more and more each day. What felt like a fever dream just the year before when I took a prolonged break was now within reach, and the train wasn’t stopping off anytime soon! I have to say for as lacklustre as the Depths appears, I didn’t mind my time with it. Sure, it’s not pretty to look at, and the locations do become mundane after a while, but exploring them in the way I did probably makes me appreciate them more. If I had done what I did with Hyrule and explored them without a guide or a clue, I would have spent a lot of time finding nothing interesting. I would imagine more often than not getting disappointed at not finding anything interesting and instead wondering why I spent so long for no reward. Knowing that I was guaranteeing that reward and that burst of enjoyment from finding it was pleasing in its own right. For the first time in my playthrough, the confirmation had outweighed my sense of discovery. There was nothing to write home about in the Depths, hence why I was glad to use a guide to help me in my mission. Nothing that I hadn’t experienced before. It not only freshened up my experience playing the game, but also valued my time already spent even more, as I dread to think how unenjoyable my playthrough would have been if I had used Zelda Notes the entire time, especially for my first time. Although I’m sure there will be a time I get an urging sensation to come back and use Zelda Notes for an entire fresh playthrough, maybe in a few years. Little by little I would chip away at that percentage all the way till eventually, after what felt like so long, it finally reached that coveted 100%. It was easily the most boring part of the playthrough so far, hence why even though it was a month ago I can’t remember much of note from it. But the most important thing was, it was done. 100% of Tears of the Kingdom, I had completed what I had set out to do. I was ready to finally put an end to this, beat this burden that has been with me for the best part of three years, ready to experience the finale of what is now one of my favourite games of all time. Except…I wasn’t done, no way Jose. I had only just started my journey to 100% completion. It’s fair to say that I probably went against Nintendo’s ideals in my playthrough. Of course, they designed these worlds to be explored however the player may fancy, but I think it’s fair to say I took this to its extremities. It ended up with me eventually having 100% of the map completed sure, Nintendo told me that I had 100% the game and that there was nothing left to do before heading to Ganondorf. Beating the game would have shown that number in the game, in the same way the percentage counter comes up for Breath of the Wild too. But Nintendo’s way of 100% a game isn’t the same way I was 100% this game. When I mean everything, I mean everything. There was still so much that needed doing to even break my own official threshold of 100% completion. The map is merely a tracker for things achievable, for things to collect there, which fails to include quite a tedious, cumbersome number of tasks required to finish. Take for example, cooking recipes. Despite not counting towards Nintendo’s method of completion, it counts as a number on the recipes screen hence why I needed to get them all done. As well as this, all armour pieces that could be upgraded, will be upgraded to the highest possible level. I had to farm endless rupees for completing the Hyrule Compendium, because nothing says I love this game more than paying to get cool photos instead of taking awful ones yourself. I think also a part of me wasn’t quite to accept it yet. Not only was I accepting the success and accomplishments of completion, but I was also accepting finality in a way, in a way that felt like losing, even if I wasn’t. I was succeeding so completely that I was removing the thing that had kept the game alive for me. By not having anything left, I had gone against my entire rulebook that had kept me from getting to this point. I had shied away from the impending nature of nothingness. The fact that everything has an end at some point, was something that for some reason, Tears of the Kingdom was making so hurtful and was so damaging to me. I think I know why now. I don’t think it took me three years to beat Tears of the Kingdom because I was taking my time with it, exploring it to its full extents, both high above the clouds and down below the Depths. For a large part of my playthrough, I was finding reasons not to play the game, to not fulfil my requirements, to not have nothing left to do in this game. I had spent years avoiding whilst simultaneously always getting closer every time I played the game. It became a game I enjoyed taking breaks with. I enjoyed separating with it for time to time. Knowing that I could always come back to it and trickle my way through the game at whatever pace my heart desired was and is one of the game’s greatest strengths. I didn’t want that taken away from me. But at the same time, I wanted to beat Ganondorf so freaking bad. So there I was, with only a few steps in between me and the finale. Only a few more things to tick off. However, me being me, I couldn’t have left the worst thing to fully complete till the end could I? I did. Not only did the recipes take me an age to do, partially because I never really ate anything that extravagant in either Wild era game. It would usually be loads of meat, greens that gave me full health recovery, or stamina foods. I didn’t realise there were SO MANY different recipes I could create. I didn’t even know Pizza was a thing in Hyrule! And thus starts the final countdown and more importantly, the grind. For the first time in my entire 350 hours of playtime, I had to grind for completion. This became by far the most tedious part of the playthrough, but I am glad it came at a time it did. Had I not left this to the last minute, where everything I had built up over the past three years relied on it, the motivation would have been severely lacking. But now, with just a few things left to check off, I was fuelled by my desire and passion alone to finish, to see the goal that I had projected over three years ago, to finally experience what I had been putting off for so long. I spent an entire week of purely grinding. The 228 recipes paled in comparison to arguably one of my worst experiences playing this game, the armour upgrades. You would think that traversing this world for 300+ hours would have enabled me to find all of the materials I would need. You couldn’t be more wrong. I was so far off my estimate, both in rupees and in materials, and the mountain just got 10x as harder to climb. Some people may have quit there and then, the official 100% category only counts a few of the armour upgrades, not every single one, but I was different. I was not going to let this feeling of despair rule me and instead make me try harder to get over this line that I could finally see ahead of me. So there I was, farming for every material necessary for all of the upgrades. I was beating bosses again, farming enemies, ores, gems, everything. One in particular that was a ball ache to get where the infamous Lizalfos tails. If anyone has tried to 100% the game they would know the pain and suffering these Lizard bastards gave me. When killed these guys can give you a tail as loot, but it seems to be quite the rarity, and that is exemplified especially when it is the only thing you need from them. I spent entire evenings farming Ice, Fire, and Electric tails in what was a tiresome effort, but it eventually reaped its reward. Seeing the 4 stars on each armour set was arguably the thing I was most proud of, except there was one that I was saving till the last, in quite a poetic way. The Champion’s Leathers is Link’s main outfit for this entire game. They are an upgrade both visually and physically for Link from the Champions Tunic he wore in BOTW. They are the clothes you see in all of the game’s promotional artwork, well, the ones that don’t show Link practically naked that is. I wanted to leave these till last for a good few reasons. Firstly, they were one of the first pieces of armour I had discovered in the game for start. One of the first things I did in this game after returning down to Hyrule was go to Hyrule Castle, and see what was left after the events of the Upheaval. I remember getting to the Sanctum and being able to explore it, as you were unable to in BOTW, was such a cool experience, and waiting there behind a puzzle was indeed Link’s shiny new outfit. How it got there after the events at the beginning of the game, Hylia knows. Especially after Zelda purposely left them there in a chest for him as explained in her diary in her secret underground base. The Castle is where I also found the Hylian Shield, which lasted all but the final few moments of my playthrough, thanks Ganondorf. The other reason I left these Leathers till last was because they required parts from the Light Dragon to upgrade. Up until this point, I had barely interacted with the dragons at all, apart from ripping the Master Sword from Zelda’s head. One cool thing I discovered was that the other three dragons could go in and out of the Depths and farming their dragon parts for the most part was very enjoyable. But, I wanted my last memories experiencing this world as a whole to be one of calm, peace, ease, and who better to spend that time with than the Princess herself. Just like the game, it brought me full circle to the beginning of the game. The dragon we see as Link skydives for the first time was my final destination. One of the earliest meaningful items I had found became the final armour piece I had to complete. I farmed her parts for my last hour of grinding, upgraded the armour at the Great Fairy Fountain and then… Completion. Well, not quite. I still had a few photos left to tackle that would only be available after the game is finished. Everything I could do before getting to Ganondorf…was done. Every Shrine. Every Lightroot. Every Skyview Tower. Every recipe. Every armour upgrade. Every Energy Cell upgrade. Every Schema Stone. Every Yiga Schematic. Every Side Quest. Every Side Adventure. Every available Main Quest. Every memory. I had reached the top of the summit, a summit that had taken me three years to overcome its plentiful number of obstacles. It was time to see what the ending had in store for me. The day of Monday August 3rd came. I knew this was the day I was going to beat The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, and end this saga started with Breath of the Wild in 2020. Ending the game meant more to me than any other game, and I knew I wanted to treasure that feeling. Not many games I remember the exact moment I was when I beat them for the very first time. Xenoblade 3 comes to mind, when I beat it at 3am in the morning and had to be up at 6am for work the next day, but I think my experience with TOTK will stay with me forever. I was home alone, able to be wrapped in my own thoughts whilst I descended down to the Depths underneath Hyrule Castle. I was well equipped and quite frankly not nervous or hesitant. I had spent over 800 hours with this iteration of Link and his abilities; there would have to be a monumental shift in difficulty to make me feel on edge in this final boss battle. The further I went, the more it crept up on me. That feeling, so close. This was it. Seeing the same paths we treaded at the very start of the game, bombing the now bombable wall to reveal the rest of the mural depicting Zelda’s role in the story. The whole game was a full circle and we never saw it, that’s almost why it felt poetic to be with Zelda in my final moments in this world beforehand…or so I thought. Feelings of the person I was 3 years ago on the 12th of May 2023, when the game came out and I experienced this game for the first time, all the memories I have made both in the game and outside in that time, came rushing in as I went further down. I had never spent this long playing a video game before, the more time I spent with it, the harder it felt to let go. I was going to finish the game not just for me, but also for the person I was three years ago, and also the person I was when I first discovered this land of Hyrule and fell in love with six years ago. I came into it with no expectations or experience. I had not been spoiled one bit on the game’s conclusion. Of course, there were theories going on in my head of how the developers were planning to end this, as Zelda games usually do end on a bang. But, for the first time in my entire playthrough, those thoughts had gone. Any thoughts or speculation or anything was on my mind. I was letting myself enjoy the moment purely for what it’s worth, not worrying about anything, no other objective, no sidequests, nothing to collect. I was one with Link. There was only one task at hand which gave such a strange but satisfying feeling. It helped that I managed to put myself in the zone at the time, putting all of my focus into finishing the game and leaving everything else to the side for an hour or two. The most connected I felt to the game was at its conclusion, and that made the process so much more enjoyable. One slight downside to having done everything there was in the game before the final battle, was that I didn’t struggle one bit. I had gloom resistance a plenty and an assortment of weapons and devices that made combat a breeze for the first part. It was great to see the Sages join you in the initial battle and it gave me Skyward Sword vibes, having something to build you up to the final battle. Once that was taken care of, only one single thing lay in between me and credits. Ganondorf. What is there to say about the Demon King? Not only is the boss fight crazy, but the music with all the call-backs to prior games, the atmosphere, his taunts, everything made me so happy whilst playing. As a character, this version of Ganondorf doesn’t do much for me personally. Link interacts with him three times during the whole game, one of the times he’s not even technically there. I never felt personally connected to him like I did in games like Ocarina of Time or in the Wind Waker. That being said, it doesn’t make him any less powerful or make him have any less aura. The fight was everything I had wanted. I remember struggling with it, then learning of the attack patterns, adjusting my strategy, and beating him. Which is perfect for a Zelda boss, and something I rarely felt in any encounter in the game due to the difference in levels between me and the boss. It felt fresh, new, exciting, and mixed in with the incredible music, the second phase especially referencing the Calamity Ganon fight in BOTW, it took me back. It wasn’t quite a Colgera moment for me, but damn did it hit hard. It reminded me of the person I was when I first beat BOTW, we had both gone on similar journeys with different paths but had ended up in the same destination. Fighting the final boss with this epic music playing. The only difference was, I had three years of payback ready to give Ganondorf. From the moment we learn of Zelda’s sacrifice, it was possible to assume Ganondorf could have done the same, and when I realised something was off after beating the second phase, you could see where the final showpiece was headed. You know those moments in games where you just can’t stop smiling and telling yourself, I love this franchise! That was me during the entire final fight. The spectacle was worth three years of waiting of grinding, of exploring this entire world head to toe, side to side, of all the setbacks and frustration, I was finally here. It felt like a momentous occasion, for all of the sacrifices along the way, both from myself and from Zelda to get to this point and having her join for the final battle was unbelievable. It makes sense, she is a constant in final boss battles in 3D Zelda games, only Majora’s Mask and Skyward Sword she doesn’t appear in, even Breath of the Wild she is inside Dark Beast Ganon but having her come from the sky and help Link in her dragon form was beautiful. It’s made even better by the fact we know that she was sleeping and was unconscious when she was a dragon, yet some amount of consciousness was provided to aid Link, which I found so amazing. It almost comes back to one of the best lines in Zelda history, what Zelda says before the Dark Beast Ganon fight in BOTW. “Courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten”. In a similar vein, Zelda had this for her wisdom. So much has happened in my life in the past three years. There’s been triumphs, tragedies, celebrations, feelings of loss, hope, despair. They all stayed with me and this playthrough had symbolised them into something meaningful. Everything was going through my head at that point, but I was focused on the task at hand. I was going to defeat the Demon Dragon and restore order to Hyrule. I had no distractions, just me, my controller and the Master Sword to do the job. After getting to the stone on top of the head, I slashed away at the health bar until it was gone and delivered the final blow. That was it, I thought. I had finally beaten Tears of the Kingdom after a long three years. All I had to do was bask in the ending cutscenes and try my hardest not to cry. But I wasn’t done. After Ganondorf is defeated and quite frankly drops a nuke on the land of Hyrule, we see Link aura farming on top of Zelda’s head before we are taken to a sort of spirit realm, where we are greeted by the souls of Rauru and Sonia, who with the help of Link’s hand, transform Zelda back into her Hylian form. Zelda was back, her music was swelling, I was a mess. Remember how I said how much I enjoyed Zelda’s character in BOTW and how she became a relatable figure when it comes to failure and overcoming that through love, this is the same Zelda that had gone through so much worse in the sequel. Travelling alone in the skies for thousands upon thousands of years all for the goal of bathing the Master Sword in her sacred power. Her sacrifice wasn’t in vain, and now through the power of makeshift Mum and Dad, she was back to her old self. There was just one problem though, we still had to catch her. The whole transition between cutscenes and then straight to gameplay, where we have to fall down to reach Zelda was the best moment in the entire game. It was worth waiting three years to finally see the game’s conclusion in this light. Having Link save her was so poetic as a call-back to the opening where his failed attempt led to all the events of the game transpiring. Once again, it was a full circle moment, and it was magical. The game began with Link failing to catch her and ended by giving me control and asking me to try again. Through the tears, Link grabbed Zelda’s hand and I had done it. 1180 days. 3 years and 3 months later, it was done. The ending was one of those moments I will cherish forever. Seeing Link and Zelda finally reunited, with the rendition of Zelda’s Lullaby in the background was everything I needed. It wasn’t just an ending for this game however, it was an ending through all of the 3D Zelda games, that started with BOTW 6 years ago. It was emotional not just seeing Zelda finally awake and aware of the evil gone, especially when the music swells when she mentioned “A warm loving embrace”, that always gets me watching back. It was also emotional because of the journey, the three and the six year journeys respectively, that had led me down this path that I call life, led me to this exact moment where I sat, finishing and experiencing the end of the game in the way that I did. It was a perfect end to this whole saga. The final cutscene was fantastic too. Seeing more of these characters that I had spent so long with was always a bonus, and it was a fitting end to the story of both Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. More than anything though, it completed Zelda’s character development. After years of self-doubt, sacrifice and carrying the weight of Hyrule on her shoulders, or on her head, she had returned home surrounded by people willing to stand beside her. Then they all lived happily ever after, maybe. I returned back to the game to see my Star was on my save file, the 100% marker was on the map, and I headed to get my final few collectables that resulted in my 100% completion of The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. It was done. Chapter Six: The Journey’s End Some of life’s worst moments come in the aftermath of such a joyous occasion. The day after a great holiday, after the last day of school, college, perhaps a job you enjoyed. It’s a cliché thing to say, but when we look back at the best parts of our lives, we don’t realise how much we miss that and would go back to that moment in a heartbeat. So many times I look back at my life and think to myself, I wish I told myself to enjoy that moment. But these moments being so special and unique is what makes them stand out. They aren’t ordinary. They aren’t usual. They don’t become the norm for you. They are surreal because they don’t happen often and in some instances, they never happen again. Your school days are over, you will never have an 18th birthday again, you may never graduate again, and so many more memories that are a one time experience. The reason I say this is because the same is so true for pieces of media, pieces of entertainment. As a massive sports fan, there are certain moments that I remember so fondly because of the momentous of the occasion. Max Verstappen winning his 1st World Championship in 2021 in the way that he did is something I wish I could experience again for the first time, Michael Smith's infamous 9-darter in the 2023 World Darts Championship final, moments in life that appear extraordinary that in the moment you don’t appreciate and cherish just how special you experiencing this truly is. Films, TV shows, concerts, books, anything that does its job to entertain you especially for the first time will always be a special moment. I remember seeing Sonic 3 in the cinema for the very first time, sharing that experience with my best friend and so many passionate fans in the theatre, and being so overjoyed. Every day I wish I could go back to that moment and suck it up and transport it into a vacuum that I could relive over and over again. Video games are one and the same, and in fact, they are made even more special because of the efforts we go as players to achieve these experiences. Unlike a film, TV show, sport event, concert, all these experiences are in front of our eyes, played for us. We are a spectator, purely observing these events live, and the reactions we get can so easily be shared with those around us experiencing the same thing. Video games are different. We as the player do the work. Of course, everything is scripted a certain way to get to the end, but we have to get there ourselves. It takes more willpower, more commitment, more dedication and drive to achieve things in video games rather than joy being handed out like a napkin at a dinner party. Some games are meant to be short bursts of fun, some are experiments that don’t last a long time but are enjoyable throughout, some are games that aren’t meant to end, that are meant to be played over and over again, some are showpieces for their respective genres that make you want to bask everything in in that moment. Each game experience is unique to each player, and that’s what makes the video game industry so unique. Having all these different games able to impact a player differently each time is a speciality only video games can create. That’s what brings me back to the feelings I had when my experience with Tears of the Kingdom was all said and done. Even now, a few weeks later, wrapping up this entire script, it still begs belief that I have finished, that my first time experience has come and gone, and that I will never get to have that feeling again. Every time I pick this game up and play in the future, be it tomorrow, next month, 5 years down the line or even when my next generation comes along and plays it, I will never have that sense of wonder and discovery once again. That had always been chipping away at me every time I made a discovery or completed a quest. But it never became a big problem up until the time I put my controller down for the first time and truly reflected on my experience. It took me a few days to really assess my thoughts on the game and reflect to myself on the three years that had come and gone. Of course, when I first finished the game, I was overwhelmed with emotions. Happy ones of course, that the game had ended so well and beautifully and of course sensations of feeling proud and joyous of the fact I had completed the journey I had set out for over three years ago. I remember rushing to YouTube to watch as many reactions to the ending as possible. To see people’s thoughts on the game there and then, to share that moment I had just experienced with people I barely know through a screen. To see that so many of these reactions were from three years ago really puts things into perspective. I was three years late to this; they weren’t three years early. Could I have finished the game in a similar vein to most people and be able to share that moment with the community at a time the game had its strongest upsurge in publicity and discussions? Of course I could. I could have streamlined my experience and rushed for the goal-line, shrugging any spoiler warnings out my way as I did the bare minimum to see everything purely blind through my own eyes in a matter of weeks. I could have been there in the moment, witnessing people’s first time reactions live, sharing that and reminding myself of my own emotions during peak moments of the game, of which there are so many. But that went against my ideals. I was not going to let spoiler culture and video game discourse dictate my journey with this game. I had already decided prior to the game my approach to this game, and the time spent with it was going to be decided based on other facts in my life and basing my playing time around that. As I said earlier in the piece, due to my completionist mentality, not only do I want to get the most out of everything, but I also don’t really care how long it takes me. When I first started this game, I knew there would eventually be a day I would finish, but the prospect of that being so far away purely based on my BOTW experience and also what the gaming outlets were saying at the time talking about the scope and scale of this game, I knew rushing this game would have been a bad idea. The thought of playing it for 10 or so hours a day even during my days off would have felt overwhelming. I didn’t want to burn myself out. No longer was I confined indoors like my time with BOTW. Not only did I want to not feel that again, but I also just purely wanted to take my time with this world. From the very beginning of the game, I knew this would be something special. Rushing it rather than preserving it would have tainted my experience for the worse I feel. I also know that a lot of people who played it spent so many hours in the first few weeks of the game’s release and beat the game shortly after. I commend these people so much. Those that don’t live by my imposed guidelines, who can do as much or as little as possible with a game and be happy with their experience, as we all reach the same conclusion at the end. Even those who are paid to play these games, reviewers, streamers, whoever I have the utmost respect for because I don’t think I could do it. For me, games are more than just a one evening experience, something you can move on with the next day. The idea of buying a game and completing it in the same day feels completely alien to me. When I play a game, I am not looking to kill one night. If its something I have high hopes for and especially if it is something I have been waiting a while for, for me it simply can’t just be treated as a one and done thing. I suppose one of the biggest reasons my playthrough differed between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom was purely because of the wait in between. Of course, I saw BOTW in 2017 along with the Switch and spent nearly 3 years wanting to try the game for myself, but it was never a major concern that I had to wait. I didn’t impose a wait, like I had to earn the right to get a Switch for myself, I just had no need for it at the time. When I did get it, I hadn’t felt like I had been waiting for three years for this exact moment, so jumping into BOTW at the time I did didn’t feel like an experience three years in the making. I didn’t rush through it per se, but I did spend a lot of time with it in a rather short period of time purely because of the restrictions we had all been put in. It gave me the impetus to propel my playthrough further than I have ever gone before to play so many hours in such a short time span, especially when those same hours were shared over a three and a bit year span with its sequel. If TOTK was in BOTW’s place, as in that was the game we got in 2017 and the game I got for Christmas 2019, I am sure my playthrough would have been near enough the same. There was no previous expectations, or self-imposed guidelines or any restrictions, or any prior experiences that were running through my head when playing the original, that made it so fresh and unique every time I played. But, Tears of the Kingdom didn’t release like that, and in fact, took nearly 4 years to come out after its announcement. These games aren’t just special in the moment we play it, they are special in the build-up, the anticipation, the excitement, all of which had been brewing for four years, and for me personally after my BOTW experience, was three years in the making. So many times we would watch Nintendo Directs hungry for news on the sequel to BOTW, then we got a name, then we got THAT trailer, the excitement was overwhelming. Having three years of build-up isn’t just something you can let loose in within weeks and be gone with. If anything, I feel like I have won in that regard. Because if you think of it, we are three years closer to the next mainline 3D Zelda game now then we were when most people finished TOTK. I have not only been playing the latest game for three years, but now that I have finished, I don’t have to wait as long for my next experience. Who knows, it could come out next year, or the year after, or five years from now. But the fact is, I don’t regret being late to the game’s huge discourse and discussion or talking about all the big moments in the game when all eyes were on it. I had the weight of three years of waiting for this game that the only way I could repay it and fulfil that was to spend an equal amount of time experiencing it for myself. Being honest, I did not think I would take three years to beat the game. I thought at best, maybe a year and I would be done. The way I was making progress in the early stages made me feel like that was possible. But eventually, even despite my slow progress with the game and only playing it in short bursts, life gets in the way sometimes. My journey was far from smooth. Just like in the land of Hyrule, there were so many highs and lows, so many peaks and troughs when it came to my playthrough. Times I was so motivated to keep playing and times where I got lost in the moment, checking my phone to see that so many hours had passed. But for every moment like that, there were times were picking up the controller felt like a chore, felt like something I wasn’t going to get repaid in. But all of those moments made it MY playthrough. There could be other people who played the game day one and are only getting round to beating the game for the first time. I know of a few people who picked the game back up again through the Switch 2 version and finally beat it. There was no time limit to beating the game, only really when hardware malfunctions and your Switch stops working 300 years from now more than likely. But the point I am trying to say was that my experience not just with the game but everything else in my life during these three years has shaped and moulded into my unique experience with this game. I can attach certain key moments in the game to the different times in my life, even times I wouldn’t be playing the game, TOTK still remained a part of it for what it was. It was always there for me, telling me I could pick it up and play whenever I wanted to. On the 4th of August, for the first time, that feeling wasn’t there. The feeling of TOTK having my back, being a source of inspiration, knowing I could play it and get lost in the world for a few hours motivated me in the real world to get gruelling tasks done like university work or my part-time work. TOTK was there as a leeway, a gateway to pure enjoyment whatever situation I was in, however good or bad I was feeling, it helped me. It was like a friend or a companion I could always turn to for support, even if it never talked back. When something has been with you in your life for so long it can become bigger than what you had originally thought it would be. For me, Tears of the Kingdom isn’t just a video game to me. It became a core part of me that helped me through arguably some of the greatest challenges of my life so far, and so that’s why I finally have the answer to the question at the top of this page. I wasn’t taking three years to finish Tears of the Kingdom. For a long time, I was finding reasons not to. But why, what was the game doing to me that made it specifically capable of sustaining that for three years? It let me. It told me to do what I want, go where you please, challenge anything and everything. But I couldn’t just live like that. I don’t like not being told what to do. I like rules and regulations, guidelines to making following things easier. If everything in life worked like Tears of the Kingdom, nothing would get done. I like rota’s, schedules, time spans, things that make me stick to certain things at certain times. So that’s what I did. I gave myself those rules, guidelines to stick to, to make sure I wasn’t going too far off the beaten track, despite how tempting it is to do in this game. The beauty of both BOTW and TOTK is one that I don’t think would work for me normally. Theoretically, if someone in real life told me that I had four main things to do, but I could do them however, whenever, in whatever way I wanted to do so, I don’t know if I could do it. If they told me how they wanted me to do it, then sure, no problem. But allowing that sort of freedom is something I am not used to, nor do I see as a good thing. I suppose as someone so used to that nature, from what my parents have brought me up as, going through school being taught for so many years of your life of things that are true and fact, you never bothered to question. When it comes to creativity, of course I view myself as a creative person. I love coming up with ideas for things, for projects, for content, for fun things to do with friends for example. But being truthfully honest, if someone told me everything instead, I wouldn’t be too impartial to that. If every time me and my friends organised to meet up, most of the time I would let them do the sorting and I’ll just listen and go with the flow. The same is true when it comes to video games. I have always preferred less choices than more, probably because its easier to make the most of the smaller number of things you have. Take the latest Zelda game, Echoes of Wisdom. In that game, to compensate for Zelda being the main playable character, you use Echoes as a way to combat rather than the conventional sword and shield Link wields. However, there is way too many echoes in that game. I am all for experimentation, but I saw myself using four or five echoes ALL the time and probably didn’t touch half of them at all apart from to unlock them all. When it comes to BOTW and TOTK, nothing has a direct solution. If you think of anything that can be done in the games, from shrines, Koroks, even things like traversal or beating enemies, there is no true way of doing things. Which is the games biggest strengths yet also its biggest weakness for me personally. I still yearn for the times when you had to solve a puzzle a certain way in the more traditional Zelda games, especially in dungeons. I’ve already made it clear my distaste to these types of dungeons, how a lack of structure goes against even the first game’s ideals, despite how open in nature that was. I’m not saying I want telling what to do, because the beauty about some of Zelda’s best puzzles has been finding out for yourself, but there has to be a better mix of freedom and structure for future titles. Ironically, my favourite part of the game was when there was only one true method to succeed: The final boss battle against the Demon Dragon. You don’t have to use the Master Sword, but it is implied that you should. Restricting that freedom and only using in essence the four most critical elements of the series’ identity: Link, Zelda, Ganondorf and the Master Sword all at one with each other. It will forever be my favourite final boss in maybe all of gaming purely from a spectacle stand piece, which is a massive feat considering I thought Super Mario Galaxy’s one couldn’t be topped. I also find it really funny and quite coincidental that Zeltik, arguably the biggest Zelda YouTuber, made a video about the final boss right after I had finished the game for the first time, funny how things work out eh? The point I am trying to make is that without the structure I had imposed on myself, this game would A) not have taken me three years to complete and B) not warranted a 30,000 word article on it either. I used the game’s freedom and imposed as much of a structure I could as possible. Not a physical structure on the world itself, not giving Link structure. It was a metaphorical structure for me as the player only, one that only I had to follow. Exploring each region thoroughly before moving on to the next one, collecting everything I could see, not using official guides, just using my Hero’s Path to judge what I deemed enough exploration. I followed that structure all the way till it stopped helping me and started preventing me from finishing. That’s when Zelda Notes took the mantle of my structure to help me home. I don’t think I could have a similar experience with any game particularly ever. Maybe not even the next Zelda game. This experience was totally unique to anything I had ever played in my life. Even compared to some massive video games I have played in the past, I didn’t use this method because there was less to explore, less to seek out. But also, there was less desire to explore, less sense of wonder from my standpoint to. The relationship I had forged with this game was totally my doing, and I am proud I kept with it till the end. It makes this game so much more personal to me as it holds this meaning of structure that makes me function so well myself, TOTK serves as a reminder that my ideals can work when imposed on daunting tasks that have a lot of uncertainty. Of course, that isn’t to say the playthrough was seamless throughout, and my structure certainly did hamper my experience with the game at points. Again, grabbing the Master Sword much earlier than I should have remains my one and only major regret in this game, and it was only because of my ruleset that I imposed that I thought it would be a viable thing to do. It will certainly be something I avoid doing in repeat playthroughs that is for sure. There were also plenty of times motivation levels for the game dropped, purely because the path I had set myself on wasn’t particularly exciting or unique, and that’s to be expected. There just simply is no way the developers could stack every single bit of this world head to toe with goodies and collectables and things to do. But by the nature of my structure, if it was explorable, I explored it. I think the best picture that summarises my playthrough is my hero’s path journey. If you needed any pure evidence of my commitment and dedication to this land of Hyrule, here it is. It perfectly describes my journey so perfectly, and it also serves as a mini-time capsule, as even though it doesn’t pinpoint where you were at a certain date, it in itself is a three-year time-lapse from the time I spent on the Great Sky Island all the way to my final altercation with The Demon King. It looks ridiculous. There are dead ends, endless circles, backtracking, areas I didn’t touch for YEARS. Places I always came back to like Lookout Landing or Lurelin Village if I wanted a free place to stay the night. It covered the entire map then and again, there isn’t a dot visible that I hadn’t explored, and seeing it as a clear picture is worth so much. I’m not sure this journey would have taken as long as it did have it not been for Hero’s Path. The fact I can visibly see where I had gone was a major factor to approaching the game how I did. It allowed me to see where I had or hadn’t gone, and even if there was still a lot I missed on my first-time travelling, I tried my damn hardest and doesn’t Hero’s Path know it. Hero’s Path tells more than just a story, however. It tells me that progress doesn’t have to look like a straight line to still be progress. That’s not how it works. No playthrough will be a straight line from one place to the next, all the way up until the end. That’s not how the game wants you to play. That’s something useful for our own lives as well. Progress isn’t something we keep doing over and over again. We don’t progress without failure. We don’t collect something every day. We don’t win every day. It’s just not possible. I think my playthrough says a lot about the life I have led in the last three years. I have been on my own Hero’s Path for 24 years now, and especially in the last three years, I too have come to dead ends, huge detours, side-tracks. There’s been times I have stopped, times I have gone backwards. Not every step is a step forward in my life. But it’s still my journey. Every twist, every pause, every mistake, every success, is all a part of my own path. There’s a lot I can take from my playthrough with TOTK, about how giving myself a structure on a world without much of it imposed, as that is where I currently stand in my life. I have just completed my Master’s degree at university, after graduating my undergraduate degree last year. That is it, all my years of academia, gone. For the last 20 years of my life, I was living under a ruleset applied all the way back in my first year of school. Learning, being taught, has been part of my DNA since I can barely remember. Every September I would always have something to go back to. This September, I won’t have that, and I am really struggling with that notion at the moment. Not because I want to go back to university, firstly I can’t afford it, nor do I fancy it purely because of how exhausting this last year has been for me overall. I find myself looking back at my playthrough and as much and as realistically as I can, comparing the tasks in Hyrule to the tasks in my life. Finding a job in my industry is my Destroy Ganondorf Questline at the moment. It won’t be easy; I’m only currently at three hearts. The problem for me at the moment is that I have no clear direction that I want to go in. My hero’s path has nowhere needed to be explored, because the next part of my life hasn’t been unlocked yet, no matter how hard I am trying at the moment. It hurts, and it has been hurting for a while, and this is why I have distracted myself by writing this piece. I couldn’t have just left this game like any other, it has had the biggest meaning and impact on my life compared to any other video game I have played so far. When I finished the game, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Just because it had nothing left to give to me didn’t mean that I couldn’t give it anything. I felt like I had to repay it in this form you are reading now, gathering all my thoughts, all my memories, all my emotions over the course of three years. Writing this hasn’t just been revisiting the last three years I had spent in Hyrule, it had been a revisit of my life as a whole. So much has happened in that time that I could barely comprehend, yet TOTK has always been that constant juggernaut in my mind, always with me. Now as I reach a crossroads in my life, as I end a chapter, I will end up starting another, leaving the previous one behind, with TOTK included. That doesn’t mean I can’t take what I have learned in these three years with me into the next stage of my life, I will certainly plan on doing so. I have certainly found it difficult mentally for myself in the past few months. I don’t deal well with uncertainty, especially if it personal for my development. I hate my current situation, with no certainty for a job or progress in the person I want or aspire to be. It hurts every day waking up not making any suitable progress, and it may be why TOTK came back into my life the way it did. It reminded me that progress not only takes time, but it will come. Progress can be painfully slow, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. I am not someone to be happy or content with how I am currently living, and I can thank TOTK for that mentality. Despite how difficult a task can seem, you don’t have to do it seamlessly to progress. Just as long as you do it your way. When the next 3D Zelda comes out, who knows what situation my life will be in. No the Ocarina of Time remake doesn’t count! If you compare my journey as I conclude writing this on the 21st of August 2026, to the person who experienced the world of BOTW for the first time in January 2020, so much has changed, despite the fact I hate change. But one thing is for certain, I have progressed since then, in so many ways, and certainly not in the conventional way. But that’s just how I like it. It’s what makes me, me, and its what has made my playthrough so unique and special, even if I’m three years late to the party, and all the good snacks are gone, and in fact, all of the guests are gone. It sounds asinine that Tears of the Kingdom still isn’t my favourite video game of all time, could I talk this much about Super Mario Galaxy? All that matters is that this game means so much more to me than the average player, thanks to its characters, its storytelling, its world, and its ability to make my adventure across the sky, the surface and the depths as personal to me as possible. Thinking about this game brings joy to me, brings a smile to my face, even if there is a slight tint of sadness knowing I will never be able to experience this for the first time again. But these experiences will never be forgotten, because of the experience I had crafted myself, and that’s the underlying message this piece wanted to share. A game is as special as you want to make it, and that is why I will always hold this game near and dear to my heart. The Hero’s Path for Tears of the Kingdom might have finished, but mine has only properly just started. Thanks for reading.

It's another day, which apparently means it's time for another Nintendo Direct prediction article. We had The Legend of Zelda 40th Anniversary Direct yesterday, and Nintendo is immediately coming back for more with a brand-new 45-minute Nintendo Direct tomorrow, because apparently one Direct in a week wasn't enough. And there is a lot Nintendo could show here. September Directs have traditionally been some of Nintendo's biggest presentations of the year, particularly since E3 disappeared. Tears of the Kingdom was revealed during one, Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door was revealed during one, Kirby and the Forgotten Land was revealed during one and Bayonetta 3 finally properly resurfaced during one. So historically, this is the time of year when Nintendo likes dropping something big. The last couple of Directs haven't necessarily had the greatest reception, even if I've personally found plenty to enjoy in them. Outside of Ocarina of Time, though, there still isn't that obvious upcoming game that screams "you need a Switch 2 for this." Nintendo's 2027 slate is still pretty bare too. We know about games like Xenoblade Genesis and Pokémon Wind and Waves, but beyond that there is still an enormous amount of space to fill. So, after somehow coming up with 32 predictions, what do I think we're actually going to see? Xenoblade Genesis — 50% I'm starting with Xenoblade Genesis, and this is a proper "depends if Nintendo feels like it" prediction for me. We got a boatload of Xenoblade information during the previous Direct, including the Switch 2 Editions of the older games and the reveal of Genesis itself. Because of that, I could quite easily see Nintendo letting this Direct pass without touching it. My guess is that Xenoblade gets its proper blowout around February instead, potentially ahead of a summer release. Xenoblade 3 launched in July, while Definitive Edition was around that late spring/early summer area, so that feels like a pretty natural window for Genesis too. Could we get another teaser tomorrow? Absolutely. Do we need one already? Probably not. A New Super Smash Bros. — 20% I would absolutely love this, but I'm not convinced. The big question is what Masahiro Sakurai is actually doing. If he's developing another Smash Bros. from the ground up and personally leading the project like usual, I can't see it being ready to show here. If, however, Nintendo has managed to build another team around the series while Sakurai has been working elsewhere, things get considerably more interesting. It's been five years since Sora arrived as the final DLC character for Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. We've had the odd patch since then, including Switch 2 support, but realistically there has been plenty of time for some sort of new Smash project to begin development. Smash has also historically arrived fairly early in a Nintendo console's life, but something about tomorrow just doesn't feel like Smash to me. There is another Nintendo franchise further down this list that I think has a much better chance of being the massive show-closing announcement. As much as it pains me, Smash is going firmly into the copium category. Clair Obscur on Nintendo Switch 2 — 75% This feels like a really strong third-party announcement. Clair Obscur has obviously become an enormous success, picked up plenty of awards and established itself as one of the biggest RPG releases around. Nintendo is clearly making an effort to improve Switch 2's third-party library too. We've already got games like Metaphor, 007 First Light and plenty of other traditionally PlayStation/Xbox-heavy releases finding their way onto the system. Clair Obscur would fit perfectly. Whether the developers had access to Switch 2 hardware early enough is another question, but if the port exists, a Nintendo Direct feels like exactly where you'd announce it. Mega Man Override — 75% I'd be quite surprised if Mega Man Override doesn't appear in some form. We already know it's coming next year, and it has been far too long since we've had some proper Mega Man representation in a Nintendo Direct. Whether it gets a full trailer or just gets thrown into a larger montage of upcoming third-party releases is another matter, but either way, I think we've got a strong chance here. And I'll happily take any excuse Nintendo gives me to see more Mega Man. Nintendo Switch Online Update — 50% This one massively depends on what happens during the Zelda Direct. If Twilight Princess gets announced for GameCube Nintendo Switch Online there, like I've predicted, Nintendo probably doesn't need another major GameCube update literally 24 hours later. But this prediction could really apply to any of the classic systems. We still haven't got Super Smash Bros. on N64, for example, and Nintendo always has the option of filling out the libraries with another handful of games. What I don't expect is another brand-new system. Nintendo DS eventually feels inevitable, but we're nowhere near that point yet. Nintendo will probably squeeze everything it can out of the existing classic libraries before it starts trying to work out how on Earth dual-screen DS games are supposed to work properly. A Brand-New 3D Mario — 70% Here we go, one of the big ones. There is a very strong chance we finally see the next 3D Mario tomorrow. If Nintendo wants one game that immediately convinces another few million people to buy a Switch 2, this is probably it. We've got Mario Kart. We've got other major Nintendo franchises on the way. Eventually, the next proper 3D Mario has to arrive. And it's been long enough. The only thing stopping me putting this even higher is that something about it doesn't quite feel right. I don't know why, but a new 3D Mario almost feels like a February Direct announcement to me, particularly if Nintendo plans on releasing it later in 2027. But if this thing is coming in the first six months of next year? It almost has to appear tomorrow. There is also Pokémon Wind and Waves to consider. Pokémon tends to dominate Nintendo's holiday schedules, and we've rarely seen Nintendo launch a major 3D Mario and mainline Pokémon game on the same console in the same holiday window. So perhaps Mario gets the first half of 2027 while Pokémon takes the second. Whatever happens, if something enormous closes tomorrow's Direct, 3D Mario is my favourite to do it. Luigi's Mansion 4 — 50% I would absolutely love this. It has been seven years since Luigi's Mansion 3, and Next Level Games hasn't released a new game since Mario Strikers: Battle League five years ago. So what are they doing?Luigi's Mansion 4 feels inevitable at some point. The only thing making me hesitant is that I don't know if Nintendo would reveal a new 3D Mario and Luigi's Mansion during the same Direct. That's a lot of major Mario content at once. But they could absolutely coexist in the same year. Maybe Mario launches around March or June and Luigi gets his usual spooky October window. More importantly, where do you even take Luigi's Mansion next? The first game gave us a mansion, the second gave us several mansions and the third gave us an entire hotel. A train? An island? A cruise ship? Give Luigi an entire haunted holiday resort and let him suffer. Damn, I sound like I hate the guy! Nintendo Switch Sports 2 — 95% This feels as close to guaranteed as anything on the list. I'd expect another trailer, maybe an overview and potentially some information about post-launch content, updates or whatever Nintendo has planned for the next few months. The original Switch Sports sold an absolute boatload despite all the discourse around it, so Nintendo clearly knows there's a massive casual audience for another one. I'm particularly interested in how much more freedom the sequel gives us. We've got all these different activities around Wuhu Island, but just let me explore the place. Give me a little free-roam mode where I can wander around, find things, mess about and actually exist on Wuhu Island rather than only seeing it as the backdrop for different sports. That's probably more exciting to me than half the actual sports. A New Ace Attorney — 60% I've heard enough rumblings about a new Ace Attorney that I'm willing to put this slightly above 50/50. It's been quite a while since the last genuinely new entry, and Switch 2 would be a pretty good place for Capcom to bring the series back. Nintendo Directs have also always been a natural home for Ace Attorney announcements. I'm not expecting this to be one of the massive centrepieces of the show, but as one of those lovely mid-Direct surprises? Absolutely. Resident Evil 2, 3 and 4 Remakes — 50% Another Capcom prediction. Switch 2 is already building a considerably stronger Resident Evil library, so why stop there? The obvious next move would be bringing the modern remakes of Resident Evil 2, 3 and 4 across. Whether Capcom dumps all three onto the platform together or drip-feeds them throughout 2027, I don't really care. They're exactly the kind of games that help sell the idea that Switch 2 can finally get versions of major modern third-party games without the enormous compromises we saw before. This feels possible rather than inevitable. Hollow Knight: Silksong – Sea of Sorrow — 40% We know Team Cherry plans on releasing Sea of Sorrow this year, and we're quickly running out of year, so it could absolutely appear tomorrow. The problem is that this feels like something that could just as easily happen at The Game Awards. Team Cherry also doesn't exactly need six months of marketing. If it's ready, I can genuinely imagine them showing a trailer and saying, "Yeah, it's out in two weeks." Which would be extremely Silksong. I'm putting it slightly below 50/50 purely because December feels like a very realistic alternative. GTA VI on Nintendo Switch 2 — 5% Keep dreaming, buddy. Maybe eventually, but tomorrow? Absolutely not. Especially if Nintendo has a huge game like Ocarina of Time occupying a similar part of the year. Nintendo isn't going to spend part of its big September showcase promoting GTA VI when it has its own games it wants everyone talking about. And realistically, anyone desperate to play GTA VI probably isn't sitting there waiting for a Switch 2 version anyway. If it happens several years down the line as one of those "HOW THE HELL IS THIS RUNNING ON A NINTENDO?" announcements, fantastic. Just not tomorrow. Yoshiaki Koizumi Does Something Meme-Worthy — 95% Lock it in. If Koizumi is hosting this Direct, something stupid is happening. We've had the weird Switch 2 weapon moment. We've had him doing whatever that dance was during the WarioWare section. Every now and then, Koizumi just decides to give us a little moment. And I love it. He's been presenting these things for years now and still has that slightly chaotic energy that Nintendo could frankly use more of. Give me one Koizumi meme tomorrow. That's all I ask. A New Star Fox Adventures-Style Game — 50% We've had enough rumours around Star Fox recently that I'm keeping this alive. The original Star Fox remake has already brought the franchise back into people's minds, and we've heard suggestions that another game could take things in a different direction. Something more in the vein of Star Fox Adventures would be really interesting. The only thing holding me back is timing. Star Fox only returned a few months ago, so Nintendo could easily give that release some breathing room and save the next announcement for February instead. But imagine getting a little Star Fox update tomorrow, followed by: "Oh, and one more thing..." Brand-new Star Fox Adventures. I'd take it. A New Kirby Game — 75% Kirby is basically inevitable in Nintendo Directs at this point. That pink little bastard is always doing something. It's been four years since Forgotten Land and three since Return to Dream Land Deluxe. We had the Switch 2 version of Forgotten Land, but I can't imagine that consumed the entire development team. So yes, I think another mainline Kirby is coming. My guess would probably be another 2D game, but I'd be considerably more excited by another 3D entry. Forgotten Land is one of my favourite Kirby games alongside Planet Robobot, and there's still so much potential in that format. Speaking of Robobot, that long-rumoured HD version still hasn't appeared either. The problem there is that it feels like something that should also release on Switch 1 rather than being a major Switch 2 title. Either way, Kirby appears somewhere feels like one of my stronger predictions. Metroid 6 — 85% I'm going out on a limb here. I think Metroid 6 opens the Direct. We've had those Metroid 6 rumours floating around, and it's been five years since Metroid Dread. MercurySteam hasn't exactly been flooding the market with other releases in that time either. Meanwhile, Metroid Prime 4 has now had its moment. Nine months have passed, that ship has sailed, crashed into something and sunk to the bottom of the ocean. It's time to get back on the 2D Metroid hype train. Whether it's called Metroid 6, Metroid Ravenous or something completely different, I think revealing the next game now would go ridiculously hard. And it fits Nintendo's scheduling too. Metroid feels like an excellent February/March/April sort of release. One of those strong games Nintendo uses around the end of the financial year before the summer releases start arriving. Could Metroid close the show? Absolutely. But I think Nintendo has something even bigger saved for that. Another Nintendo Switch 2 Edition — 90% We're definitely getting at least one of these, surely. The question is what game. Mario & Luigi: Brothership? Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door? Personally, I'm joining the people predicting Pikmin 4 – Nintendo Switch 2 Edition. We've already had an update for Pikmin 4 and we've seen Nintendo upgrade older games with fairly straightforward resolution and performance improvements. Give Pikmin 4 the same treatment but add a little bit of extra content too. Three or four more hours, a bonus campaign, stick Louie somewhere, I don't care. And most importantly: Oatchi amiibo. Please. Give me an Oatchi amiibo and nobody gets hurt. A New Wario Land or WarioWare — 60% I think there's a decent chance Wario appears somewhere. We've had rumblings for a while about Wario Land potentially coming back, which would be fantastic considering how long it's been since the last one. Wario Land: Shake Dimension is nearly 20 years old. That's disgusting. The big question is who develops it. Good-Feel has been occupied with Yoshi, so perhaps Nintendo has another studio in mind. Alternatively, another WarioWare feels entirely possible. Those games don't seem to take five years to produce, and Switch 2 could desperately use another fun multiplayer game built specifically around its features. Either one would make me happy. Wario Land would make me considerably happier. Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave — 95% We're seeing Fire Emblem. The game is basically here. I'm expecting a final reminder of what Fortune's Weave actually is, maybe another trailer and possibly some information about post-launch plans. Do we get amiibo? Maybe. Do we get DLC? Also maybe. I haven't watched every piece of information Nintendo has released about this thing, so I'm probably going to sit there tomorrow and act shocked at something everyone else has known for three weeks. But yes, it'll be there. Final Fantasy VII Revelation — 75% Why wouldn't it be? This thing appears at seemingly every presentation known to mankind. Gamescom? There. State of Play? There. Nintendo Direct? Sure. Why not. Switch 2 is clearly becoming a major part of Square Enix's plans, so another reminder that Final Fantasy VII is coming across makes complete sense. I'm expecting this to occupy about 90 seconds before moving onto something else. Ring Fit Adventure 2 — 15% Here it is, my copium. I want Ring Fit Adventure 2, damn it. Bring Dragaux back. Give me another ridiculous fitness campaign, new exercises, new environments, new accessories, amiibo, whatever you've got. The original Ring Fit Adventure sold an absurd number of copies and somehow became one of my most-played games on Switch, so there is absolutely an audience for another one. The problem is that Switch Sports 2 already seems to be occupying that wider casual/fitness-adjacent space. It also feels like exactly the kind of game Nintendo would reveal completely randomly through Nintendo Today on a Tuesday morning rather than using a massive Direct slot. Do I expect it tomorrow? No. Do I still want it? YES. Some Horrendous AI Slop — 100% Guaranteed. On God. Lock this bad boy in. At some point during these 45 minutes, we're going to see some absolutely horrendous-looking game where everyone watching collectively asks: "Why is Nintendo showing this?" It'll look vaguely AI-generated, it'll probably be some farming game or generic multiplayer thing and there will be approximately seven people playing it three weeks after launch. Then you realise whoever made it has probably paid Nintendo an enormous amount of money to be there and everything suddenly makes sense. It's basically part of the Nintendo Direct experience now. Super Mario Maker 3 — 50% This one makes so much sense mechanically. It's been seven years since Super Mario Maker 2, we've now had Super Mario Bros. Wonder, which gives Nintendo an entirely new game style it could incorporate, and Switch 2 has mouse controls. Mario Maker with mouse controls. Come on. That's practically begging to happen. The only thing making me hesitate is the same problem I have with Luigi's Mansion 4: if Nintendo is revealing a brand-new 3D Mario tomorrow, how many other major Mario games does it really want to announce alongside it? If 3D Mario isn't there, Mario Maker 3 suddenly becomes considerably more likely. Spyro: Realm Beyond — 70% This feels extremely likely. Spyro's own account has already been teasing a surprise for September 9, which just happens to be Direct day. Very subtle. We've only had the initial reveal so far, so tomorrow would be a perfect opportunity for the proper blowout. Give us another trailer, more gameplay, an overview of what the game actually is and, most importantly, the release date. This is already one of my most anticipated upcoming games, so I'll happily take whatever they give us. The Duskbloods — 95% The Duskbloods will be there. I don't even think this one needs much explaining. It's one of the bigger upcoming Switch 2 exclusives and a game Nintendo will absolutely want to remind people exists. Whether we get another substantial trailer or just a shorter appearance remains to be seen, but I'd be very surprised if we make it through 45 minutes without seeing it somewhere. That Blue Rodent — 15% I don't think Sonic is doing anything particularly exciting tomorrow. I'd love to be wrong. We're still technically in the 35th anniversary celebrations and we still don't really know what the next major Sonic project is, but September's Nintendo Direct doesn't feel like the place where Sega finally reveals it. We could potentially get a reminder about upcoming DLC or character updates, but that's about as far as I'm willing to go. If we're talking about the next proper Sonic game, The Game Awards feels considerably more likely. But it's Sonic. He'll probably turn up somewhere purely to spite me for putting him this low. Splatoon Raiders DLC — 75% I think Splatoon Raiders has a strong chance of getting something. Whether that's actual DLC, free updates, new costumes, challenges or some other form of post-launch content remains to be seen. I don't expect another mainline Splatoon for quite a while, so Nintendo has every reason to keep Raiders active in the meantime. A roadmap showing what players can expect over the next few months would make plenty of sense. Pokémon Wind and Waves — 20% No, I don't think we're seeing much, if anything, from Pokémon Wind and Waves tomorrow. Pokémon likes doing its own thing. If anything Pokémon-related appears, I'd actually expect more information about Pokopia rather than the next mainline release. Nintendo doesn't need to steal Pokémon's thunder when The Pokémon Company can just hold another presentation whenever it fancies. Mario Kart World DLC — 20% Depends what we're calling DLC. Do I think we're getting another trailer revealing the next couple of Knockout Tours or free updates? Absolutely possible. Do I think Nintendo is about to announce a giant paid DLC package full of new tracks? No. My guess is Nintendo works through the existing Knockout Tour content first and saves a proper expansion for much later, perhaps around the game's second anniversary. Then it can suddenly drop a ridiculous amount of tracks on us and make everybody buy another pass. For tomorrow, though, I'm keeping expectations low. A New Mario Sports Game — 50% This is another proper 50/50. We've had tennis recently, but it doesn't seem to have set the world on fire commercially. So what comes next? Basketball? Baseball? Football? Nintendo has plenty of sports it could revisit. The bigger issue is Switch 2's install base. Not everyone has upgraded yet, particularly the more casual audience these games often target. Nintendo might want to wait another year before throwing another big Mario Sports game onto the system. But if one suddenly appears tomorrow, I won't exactly be shocked. Kingdom Hearts IV — 70% Yeah, why not? We've already seen more of Kingdom Hearts IV recently, and we know Nintendo is getting considerably more Kingdom Hearts support. With the earlier games heading to Switch 2 as well, another appearance showing Kingdom Hearts IV running on the system feels completely plausible. It's another one of those announcements that strengthens Nintendo's third-party lineup without needing to dominate the presentation. And let's be honest, Kingdom Hearts fans have spent long enough trying to work out what the hell is happening anyway. Give them another trailer to analyse frame-by-frame. Nintendogs — 15% And finally, we arrive at pure, concentrated copium. Bring back Nintendogs. Please. It actually makes too much sense. Switch 2 has a camera. You could have the dogs recognise your face, recognise your voice and react to you moving around. You could bundle the game with the camera and immediately sell approximately twelve billion copies to people who haven't bought a Nintendo game since 2008. Nintendogs was absolutely enormous. How have Nintendo just left this franchise sitting there? Will tomorrow finally be the day? Probably not. But I refuse to give up. So, What Do I Actually Think Is Happening? Obviously, Nintendo isn't announcing all 32 of these things. If I had to narrow tomorrow down to the announcements I feel strongest about, Metroid 6 is my prediction to open the show, while a brand-new 3D Mario feels like the most obvious candidate to close it. Between those two, I think there's a really strong chance we see another Kirby game, Spyro: Realm Beyond, Nintendo Switch Sports 2, Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave, The Duskbloods, another Switch 2 Edition and a healthy pile of third-party games. There will also inevitably be something absolutely nobody predicted. That's Nintendo. Maybe it's Smash Bros. Maybe it's Luigi's Mansion 4. Maybe it's Nintendogs. Maybe Koizumi walks onto the screen dressed as Waluigi and announces Wii Music 2. Who knows? That's the fun of these things. We've got 45 minutes tomorrow, which is considerably longer than the Zelda presentation, and Nintendo's 2027 schedule is still wide open enough that there almost has to be something substantial waiting for. So my final big prediction is simple: Metroid 6 opens, and something Mario related closes. Everything in between? Let's hope it's a Direct worth waiting for.

The Legend of Zelda 40th Anniversary Direct takes place tomorrow at 3pm UK time, and my excitement is through the roof and into the sky, like Tears of the Kingdom! What a premise for a Direct this could be. There is so much potential here. Not just in terms of the games and projects we already know are coming, but the surprises, the anniversary celebrations and those classic Nintendo announcements that absolutely nobody sees coming. This could be a total blowout celebration of Zelda's 40th anniversary, and I am all here for it. I've already gone through 24 different predictions in my video and ranked them based on how likely I think they are to happen, so I'm doing the same here. Some are basically guaranteed; some I'm 50/50 on and others are complete hopium copium. It is only a 30-minute presentation, so obviously Nintendo isn't going to announce everything we want (when do they ever), but 30 minutes is still a lot of time in Nintendo Direct terms, so starting from the beginning, what do I think we're actually going to see? Eiji Aonuma Opens the Direct — 100% Come on, we all know how this thing is starting. Eiji Aonuma is going to appear on screen, looking as spiff as per usual, and thank everyone for their continued support of this legendary series over the last 40 years. We'll get a special montage of all the games (especially the ones you can play on your Switch 2), the 40th anniversary logo and probably some lovely soppy message about how Zelda has evolved over the decades. I'd also expect Nintendo to confirm that the anniversary celebrations aren't just confined to this Direct. Similar to what we've seen with Mario, I could see this running all the way through until the Zelda movie releases in April 2027. It just makes too much sense. Mario’s had his turn now (whether you liked it or not), it’s Link’s time to shine now. Aonuma Has a Brand-New Zelda T-Shirt — 100% This is arguably my safest prediction of the entire Direct: a brand-new T-shirt. Lock it in. This will probably mark the beginning of the wallet drainage that causes me to reconsider every financial decision I’ve made up to this point. Miyamoto had his special shirt for Mario, and there is absolutely no chance Nintendo celebrates 40 years of Zelda without putting Aonuma in some lovely commemorative shirt that I'll inevitably want to buy five minutes later, which brings me nicely onto... New Zelda Merchandise — 100% There will be merch. Loads of it. We already know about some Zelda products coming, but I'm expecting Nintendo to properly lean into the anniversary with plushies, models, statues, figures and basically anything else they can slap a Triforce onto. I wouldn't even be surprised to see some First 4 Figures stuff or other more expensive collectibles. It's Zelda's 40th anniversary. Nintendo isn't going to turn down the opportunity to empty our wallets, mine especially. Zelda 40th Anniversary Icons and Rewards — 90% This feels like one of those tiny announcements Nintendo will spend about 15 seconds on before immediately moving onto something considerably more exciting. Give us a load of Zelda profile icons. Link from every era. Different versions of Zelda. Ganondorf. Midna. Tingle. Groose. They could rotate them throughout the anniversary celebrations and include backgrounds, borders and other rewards based on different games in the series. It's not exactly going to bring the house down, but it feels incredibly easy for Nintendo to do. They did the same thing for Mario and have recently been doing the same for Fire Emblem games in the lead up to Fortune’s Weave’s release next week, so this seems an easy win especially if they do this in the build up to Ocarina of Time. What will for sure happen will be OOT-themed icons when that comes out. A New Zelda LEGO Set — 75% This is one I'm quite confident about because there is so much potential for Zelda LEGO, particularly with Ocarina of Time. Kokiri Forest with Link's house would be amazing. Lon Lon Ranch. Kakariko Village. Hyrule Field. Death Mountain. Goron City. Gerudo Desert. The Chamber of Sages. A massive Triforce display. The Temple of Time with a Sheik minifigure and the Master Sword. I’m drooling just thinking about this. The big one everyone wants would be Hyrule Castle, and Ocarina of Time’s version is a prominent one that could easily be featured, especially with the courtyard. We've already had Zelda LEGO sets, so even if Nintendo doesn't show us another complete set tomorrow, I think there is a strong chance we at least hear that more are coming over the next few years. Zelda 40th Anniversary Book or Retrospective — 40% I'd actually really like Nintendo to do something that celebrates the history of Zelda rather than everything being about what's coming next. Give us some enormous 40th anniversary book filled to the brim with concept art, developer interviews, the evolution of Link and Zelda, early designs for Hyrule and behind-the-scenes material from games going all the way back to the NES. Basically give me a massive Zelda bible that weighs about four kilograms and costs considerably more than any book reasonably should. Or even better: A Hyrule Cookbook!!! Now we’re talking. I’ll take 10 of each. Hyrule Warriors: Age of Imprisonment DLC — 50% I'm exactly 50/50 on this. Age of Calamity got two waves of paid DLC with extra characters, skins, challenges and unlockables, so why couldn't Age of Imprisonment get the same treatment? I've not actually played Age of Imprisonment yet, but the timing makes sense. You could have one DLC wave relatively soon and another later this year or around February or March, towards the end of the fiscal year. It would also feel like a fitting way to finally close the book on this entire Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom era of Zelda. Wind Waker HD and Twilight Princess HD — 10% I'm sorry, but it's not happening. If Nintendo announces these tomorrow, I'll be delighted and praising Lord Hylia for blessing us for our persistence and patience in never letting this go. But how many times are we going to beat this dead horse? We've spent sooooo many years predicting Twilight Princess HD and Wind Waker HD for Switch dating all the way back to COVID years. We're in Switch 2 territory now. At some point, I've got to accept that it's just not happening. The only thing stopping me putting this at 0% is that Nintendo could still want something cross-platform between Switch and Switch 2, similar to what it has done with Super Mario Galaxy 1 and 2 last year to commemorate Mario’s 40th and the upcoming Galaxy Movie. But unless the movie takes massive inspiration from these two games, which I don’t think it will, we might have to let this ship sail (literally). The King of Red Lions has gone off somewhere better. A Zelda Game Crossover — 25% There's definitely potential for Zelda to invade another Nintendo game for the anniversary. Splatoon previously had the Power, Wisdom and Courage Splatfest around Tears of the Kingdom, so why not do something similar again? You could have Kokiri vs Goron vs Zora for Ocarina of Time. You could do something with Tetris 99. You could even have some bizarre Zelda crossover in Donkey Kong Bananza. I don't particularly expect it, but it's an easy way for Nintendo to spread the anniversary celebrations across its other games. Zelda Nintendo Switch Online Challenges — 25% I'm separating this from a general crossover because I actually think Nintendo has a really cool opportunity here. We've had the Donkey Kong challenges, so imagine a Zelda version. You could have challenges in Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom alongside the older games available through Nintendo Switch Online. Complete a particular dungeon, beat a certain boss, find something within a time limit or complete a specific section of Zelda II or A Link to the Past. I played some of the DK challenges and, while quite a few were fairly easy, some were surprisingly intense. It's not exactly a new game. It's basically more games inside the games we've already got, which sounds incredibly confusing when I actually write it down, but you know what I mean. A Zelda Expansion at Super Nintendo World — 25% I would love this, and more importantly, I genuinely think it's coming eventually. Does that mean it's being announced tomorrow? I'm not sure. Nintendo wouldn't even need to be anywhere near actually building the thing yet. Just show us some concept art, tell us Zelda is coming to Super Nintendo World in three or four years and leave it there. There has been plenty of speculation about Zelda eventually joining Nintendo's theme parks, and the 40th anniversary Direct would be a pretty fitting place to make it official. Speaking for me personally, this would also finally make me start saving properly to go to Japan or America. As much as I love Mario, Zelda means so much more to me personally. If I'm spending that amount of money to experience Super Nintendo World, I'd rather wait and get that magic twice over with Mario and Zelda. Also if this trip is going to make me broke, at least let me take some cool Zelda merch home with me. A Brand-New Zelda Spin-Off — 25% This is basically my "Nintendo does something weird" prediction. A new Four Swords? Some sort of multiplayer Zelda? Another crossover like Cadence of Hyrule? Zelda Battle Royale? Zelda 99? Imagine the OG Zelda 1 map, and everyone is running around collecting items and attacking each other. I've got absolutely no idea how that would work, but Nintendo has done stranger things. There are already so many games I expect Nintendo to talk about that I'm not convinced it needs another one, but you never know. Zelda Movie Appearance — 100% Lock this bad boy in. We are getting something from the Zelda movie tomorrow because it just makes way too much sense. The film is less than nine months away. Someone could get pregnant today and have their child around the time the Zelda movie comes out. That's how close we are. I'd expect Miyamoto to appear here and talk a little bit about the movie, probably thank everyone for supporting Nintendo's other film projects and then move onto how they're bringing Zelda to the big screen. And he'll probably mention Pikmin somehow. He always finds a way. More Zelda Movie Cast Announcements — 90% I don't think Nintendo is going to stop with the Link and Zelda casting because there are so many characters we still need to know about. There have already been reports surrounding other members of the cast, so this would be the perfect opportunity for Nintendo to start making more of those names official. Ganondorf and Impa are the obvious ones, but what about the King of Hyrule? A Goron? A Sage? Rauru? Tingle? Come on Nintendo. Cast Tingle. Chris Pratt is already on your radar right? I think that could work. Zelda Movie Teaser — 90% I also think we're seeing the movie. Not much of it, but we're seeing it. Give me 30 seconds of Link riding Epona across Hyrule Field. A shot of Hyrule Castle. Death Mountain erupting in the distance. Link firing an arrow at something, maybe him solving a little puzzle and opening a gate. Then give us one ominous shot involving Ganondorf and cut to the logo. That's all I need. It will feed and fuel the theorists for a long time trust me. Oh, and if Link talks, I’ll be surprised. He will in the eventual thing, but I fear for Nintendo if they announce that ground-breaking revelation alongside everything else. Full Zelda Movie Trailer — 25% This is where I draw the line. I don't think Nintendo is dropping a full three-minute trailer tomorrow because why would you? Give the movie its own Direct around October or November and let it completely dominate the day rather than having the first proper trailer overshadowed by everything else happening in this presentation. Twilight Princess on GameCube Nintendo Switch Online — 75% Now this is how I think Twilight Princess comes back. I think there's a strong likelihood it joins the GameCube Nintendo Switch Online library, potentially even as a shadow drop. Mario Sunshine has been there for a while now, and from the initial list of GameCube games Nintendo announced, there aren't many of the big hitters left to come. It also makes sense to get Twilight Princess out before Ocarina of Time. Nintendo isn't directly selling Twilight Princess if it's an NSO release, whereas Ocarina is potentially going to be a massive £70 release. You don't want the two competing for attention. So give us Twilight Princess now Nintendo, please? Four Swords Adventures on GameCube NSO — 50% I'm knocking this down slightly compared to Twilight Princess purely because Twilight Princess is the much bigger and more obvious addition. But Four Swords Adventures would make so much sense for an anniversary celebration. And PLEASE make it playable online. Four-player online Four Swords Adventures could be absolutely brilliant and would make the game considerably easier to experience than it was originally. It would also fit Zelda's history of using Four Swords releases as part of previous anniversary celebrations. The only problem is I’ll need to find friends to play it with, so if they give a release date for a few months that will give me enough time to prepare, hopefully. Oracle of Ages and Oracle of Seasons Remakes — 10% I'm sorry again. I'd love this, but no. Echoes of Wisdom isn't even two years old, and unless Grezzo has secretly been working on these for quite some time, I don't see Nintendo having another huge 2D Zelda remake ready. Especially when we're already expecting a remake of a much bigger Zelda game later this year. One day, hopefully, but not tomorrow. A Link Between Worlds HD — 40% Now this one I can see slightly more. A Link Between Worlds wouldn't require the same amount of work as completely remaking the Oracle games. Nintendo could essentially give it the treatment we've seen with some other 3DS-era games like Luigi’s Mansion 2 HD and Donkey Kong Country Returns HD: upscale it, improve the visuals, make the necessary adjustments for a single screen and get it onto modern hardware. And I'd absolutely take that. A Link Between Worlds is probably my favourite 2D Zelda. I genuinely think it's better than A Link to the Past, and I'd love another excuse to play it. Tingle Appears Somewhere — 50% Yes, this is a category. Tingle. I'm not even predicting how he appears. I'm just saying there is a 50% chance this strange green bastard appears at some point during these 30 minutes. Maybe he's in the movie. Maybe we get Tingle merchandise. Maybe he's randomly in the anniversary montage. I've even thought about whether Nintendo could add him to Ocarina of Time. If the remake has more quality-of-life features aimed at making the game accessible to younger players, maybe Tingle could function as some sort of hint character. Something similar to the hint systems Nintendo has added to other remakes. He tells you where to go, offers you items or gives you challenges. I don't know. Just give me Tingle. Something New From Grezzo — 10% I don't see it. Echoes of Wisdom only came out relatively recently, and I don't think we're getting Switch 2 Editions of either that or Link's Awakening. Those games feel pretty much done. No DLC, no major updates, one and done. Give them another few years and let them make the next 2D Zelda game because, based on what they've done so far, I'm very excited to see what comes next. Let them cook. Some Completely Ridiculous Zelda Announcements Nobody Predicted — 10% And then there's the Nintendo factor. Every now and then, Nintendo announces something so completely out of left field that absolutely nobody had it on their prediction list. What would the Zelda equivalent be? Zelda Maker? Ever since the initial release of Super Mario Maker over 10 years ago, people have been speculating and imagining what a Zelda Maker could even look like. We got a short experiment in the Link’s Awakening remake with the Dungeon Editor, but how cool would it be to have a full game where you could create your own dungeons and share them online? Place your own enemies, create puzzles, hide keys, choose your dungeon theme and put a treasure chest behind the most unnecessarily complicated puzzle imaginable containing five rupees just to annoy whoever is playing it. You could have NES Zelda, A Link to the Past, Link's Awakening and maybe even a modern 3D-ish style as different themes. People would create absolute monstrosities within about six hours. Or maybe this project is something completely different. A Tingle game. Zelda Picross. Beedle's Business Empire. But I am leaving 10% on the table for Nintendo to announce something that makes the entire internet collectively say: "What the f***.” Ocarina of Time Remake Blowout — 100% And now we get to the meat of this Direct: the final ten minutes and The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. This is going to be massive. Nintendo knows the importance of this game. We're not just talking about another video game release here. We're talking about one of, if not the, most iconic video games ever made being rebuilt from the ground up for Nintendo Switch 2. This is a system seller. I genuinely think Nintendo will market the absolute life out of this thing over the holidays. Ocarina of Time is a game that appeals to people who have been playing Zelda for decades and people who have never touched the original. I'm expecting a massive trailer followed by a proper demonstration. Give Aonuma the controller and let him show us what's changed. Major Ocarina of Time Quality-of-Life Changes — 90% I don't think Nintendo will remake Ocarina one-to-one, but I also don't think it's going to completely reinvent it. I'm thinking about 1.5-to-one. Keep the story, keep the dungeons and keep the fundamental structure of Ocarina of Time. Just add more. Hyrule Field is the obvious place to start. It's massive but fairly barren by modern standards, so give us more NPCs, little challenges, things to discover and reasons to actually explore it. Maybe add some smaller shrine-like challenges around the world. Not literally Breath of the Wild shrines, but little puzzles and combat encounters that make Hyrule feel more alive. That's the sort of thing I want. Oh and make the voice acting be good please. You can bring Matt Mercer back as Ganondorf if you fancy it too. More Freedom in Ocarina of Time's Dungeon Order — 50% This is one of my more specific predictions. Nintendo has become much more comfortable with letting players tackle Zelda in their own way, so could some of that philosophy find its way into Ocarina? After meeting Zelda and getting Zelda's Lullaby, perhaps the game loosens up slightly and allows you more freedom over where you go next. Then, once you're Adult Link, maybe the five temples become less rigid in their order. I'm not saying turn Ocarina of Time into Breath of the Wild. Please don't. But giving the player slightly more freedom while keeping the overall structure intact could work really well. Major New Ocarina of Time Story Content — 10% This is where I don't think Nintendo will mess around. Don't substantially change the story. Don't suddenly give us three new Sages and reveal Ganondorf was actually being controlled by Demise's second cousin. Leave it alone. Expand the world around Ocarina of Time rather than rewriting Ocarina of Time itself. That's what I want from this remake. Ocarina of Time Amiibo — 95% Come on. It's Zelda, it's Ocarina of Time, it's the 40th anniversary and Nintendo likes money, so this is practically guaranteed. Echoes of Wisdom somehow didn't get one, which still feels like such a missed opportunity, but there is absolutely no way Nintendo looks at a massive Ocarina remake and doesn't see the potential. We already have a few OOT-themed Amiibo already with the specific Link one, and technically Young Link and Sheik from Smash Bros, but there is a chance for so much more. The Sages are highly likely, especially if they are given a bigger role in the story, or even just become more fleshed out characters. I fear for how my wallet will be looking at me if these figures do get announced. Ocarina of Time Special Collector’s Edition — 80% Same again. This is too big a release not to get some sort of collector's edition. Steel book, art book, little collectible, whatever Nintendo wants to throw in there. But there is one thing I particularly want inside of it. Ocarina of Time Physical Soundtrack — 75% Give me the soundtrack. If this game is receiving a fully orchestrated soundtrack based on Koji Kondo's original work, then treat that music with the respect it deserves. Ocarina of Time has one of the most famous soundtracks in gaming history. Give us a CD, put it in the special edition or sell it separately. I don't care. Gimme. Ocarina of Time Release Date — 100% This is actually so obvious that I somehow forgot to predict it originally. We're getting the release date. With the game expected this year, this surely has to be the moment Nintendo finally tells us exactly when we're going back to Hyrule. Considering everything else I'm predicting — the console, Amiibo, special edition and massive marketing campaign — I'd expect Nintendo to have a very clear launch plan ready to go. I'd be amazed and probably raging, if we leave this Direct still being told simply "2026". Zelda 40th Anniversary Nintendo Music Celebration — 75% While we're talking music, this feels like another easy win. Nintendo could use the anniversary to go much bigger with Zelda on Nintendo Music. Add more soundtracks from across the series throughout the anniversary. Give us special playlists. Put together a 40th anniversary collection. And when the Ocarina remake releases, get those new arrangements on there too. Zelda's music is such an enormous part of the franchise's identity that I'd actually be quite disappointed if Nintendo doesn't do something with it over the next year. Zelda Switch 2-Themed Console and Controllers — 100% This one has unfortunately been spoiled somewhat already, but it is what it is. I fully expect Nintendo to officially reveal the Zelda-themed Switch 2 console alongside Ocarina of Time. The artwork for the direct matches the theme of the leak which makes it a certain bet, and that’s a good thing, I really like the look of it. What I really want is for Nintendo to sell the joy-cons separately. Please don't make me buy another entire Switch 2 just because you've drawn some Triforce on the controllers. If not, the Pro Controller that was leaked alongside will have to do…sigh. Such a shame I can only spend £100 instead of double that. The Next 3D Zelda Is Mentioned — 90% There is an important distinction here because I absolutely think Aonuma will mention the next Zelda. Something along the lines of: "I, Fujibayashi and the Zelda team are currently hard at work on the next adventure in The Legend of Zelda series. We hope you will be patient for a little longer." That's it, and that's enough. We all know it's being made. Just acknowledging it during the 40th anniversary celebration would be nice. We’re not seeing it though. I’ll eat my shoe if that happens. Zelda Symphony World Tour — 50% And finally we reach my hopium. Please, PLEASE, bring back The Legend of Zelda: Symphony of the Goddesses. I'm a relatively new Zelda fan. Well, new-ish. I was obviously alive when the previous concerts happened, but I wasn't a Zelda fan then, so I completely missed them. And now I'm desperate for another one. There is so much music Nintendo could use that wasn't even around during the previous tours. Breath of the Wild, Tears of the Kingdom, Echoes of Wisdom, Link's Awakening on Switch and the new Ocarina of Time soundtrack could all be involved. Combine all of that with 40 years of Zelda music and take it around the world. Zelda has arguably the greatest soundtrack collection in video game history, and it deserves to be celebrated properly. I'm giving this 50%. Maybe I'm expecting too much, but if this gets announced tomorrow, I will pop off harder than almost anything else in this Direct. Sorry neighbours in advance. So, How Much of This Will Actually Happen? Probably nowhere near all of it, but that's the fun. Thirty minutes is actually quite a long time for a Nintendo Direct, and we could easily get ten completely different announcements in that time. Aonuma, merchandise, LEGO, Age of Imprisonment DLC, Twilight Princess on NSO, movie casting, a movie teaser, Ocarina of Time, Amiibo, special-edition hardware, Nintendo Music and a Zelda Symphony could all realistically fit. Maybe even Zelda Maker. There is so much potential here, and obviously 30 minutes will still fly by. We'll sit down, Aonuma will appear on screen and somehow it'll be over five minutes later. After 40 years of The Legend of Zelda, we're about to find out what Nintendo has in store for the next 12 months of one of the greatest franchises in gaming history, and I am like a kid on Christmas Eve here waiting.

Avro vs Lower Breck. 28th April 2026. Photo by: James Costello. Transfer deadline day has just recently come and gone. It is arguably one of the most chaotic, frantic and exhausting days to be part of a football club. Whether you are a player, fan or at the helm of a transfer to or from your club, it is a massive day on the football calendar. Personnel scramble for phone numbers, recruitment teams work tirelessly to get deals done, whilst we supporters have the agonising task of waiting for news to arrive. The good news for most people involved is that they can dedicate their entire day purely to these negotiations, no matter how big or small. It is their job, their source of income. So what happens when it isn't? What happens when you are having to scramble around whilst simultaneously doing another task on the side? Andy Whing experienced just that. The former Coventry City and Brighton & Hove Albion defender was managing National League North side Banbury United when, on deadline day in 2023, he was trying to sign players whilst simultaneously working his full-time job in a warehouse. “I was wrapping sofas and trying to sign players at the same time; it’s beyond impossible to be honest!” Whing said. Once the working day was finished, there was little opportunity to switch off, as Whing would return home, see his wife and children, get changed and go straight back out again for training. Whing’s experience highlights an extreme example of the harsh reality of juggling two jobs at once, especially ones that you are highly responsible for, but the circumstances behind it are commonplace throughout semi-professional football. For thousands of people operating further down the English pyramid, football is not necessarily the job. It is another job that somehow has to fit around everything else. A compact working week The world of professional football has evolved enormously in terms of maximising player performance. A lot of time during a typical week is spent recovering from the game before, then proceeding to plan ahead to the upcoming game. Training, nutrition, recovery, sleep and injury prevention are all closely monitored by teams of staff, analysing and structuring almost every aspect of a player’s week to prepare their body for the upcoming match. Semi-professional footballers don’t have that luxury. Training sessions usually take place during evenings because players and staff have spent their day elsewhere, while midweek fixtures can mean travelling after completing a shift at work. There are still matches to prepare for and bodies to recover, but considerably fewer hours in which to do it. A typical timeline on a matchday for a semi-professional footballer. Graphic made in Canva by James Costello. Players do not always have the luxury of adequate recovery time, particularly after long journeys and late finishes when work is waiting the following morning. I experienced that first-hand following Avro's dramatic NPL West play-off semi-final against Lower Breck in April 2026. After a 93rd-minute equaliser had taken the game to extra time, Avro eventually recovered from falling behind to draw 2-2 before winning 4-3 on penalties. When I spoke to striker Kyle Hawley after the match, the celebrations were already having to compete with the reality of his working life. Hawley told me he had to be awake for work in around five hours, cutting short his opportunity to celebrate reaching the play-off final. He joked about having to keep his celebrations quiet with his neighbours already asleep and, while a victory in normal time might have earned him considerably more sleep, progressing to the final made the sacrifice worthwhile. Avro's post-match celebrations after their penalty shootout victory against Lower Breck. 28th April 2026. Photo by Milo Mason. Academic research describes athletes combining high-level sport with employment or education as having a ‘dual career’. A 2026 systematic review examining research into athletes who work alongside sport identified financial need as the most frequently reported reason for doing so. Conflicting schedules and physical or mental tiredness from combining the two were among the most common barriers. The research also identified planning and prioritisation as important skills for working athletes, while supportive and flexible employers repeatedly appeared as one of the most significant external resources available to them. For a semi-professional footballer, therefore, choosing what to do between matches can become almost as important as what happens during them. Former Trafford player Andy Lundy experienced that balance through two different careers. During his first spell with the Greater Manchester club, Lundy worked full-time as a football coach in primary schools across the North West. By his second, he had retrained as a driving instructor. Both careers offered something particularly valuable to a non-league footballer: flexibility. Lundy explained that the nature of the two jobs allowed him to train and play alongside work and, with no children at the time, he was also able to dedicate significant time towards competing at that level. Not every player has this luxury. Some jobs cannot simply be moved to accommodate training sessions and games. Some employers do not care about a Tuesday night fixture, and annual leave can become something used not for a holiday, but to pursue what ultimately remains a passion for the player. At Avro, there is a particularly simple example of what happens when the two worlds collide. When work wins On 13 September 2022, Avro travelled to Burscough looking to respond to a defeat against Congleton Town. Manager Alex Frost made four changes to his starting XI, but one regular member of the squad was nowhere to be seen. Kyle Jacobs wasn't injured or suspended, but instead, he was working. Avro's own match report listed Jacobs as unavailable because of work commitments, forcing Jack Worrall to move from his customary right-back position into central midfield. Avro eventually won the game 3-1 courtesy of three goals in the final 15 minutes, but Jacobs' absence represents something that would be almost unimaginable higher up the football pyramid. Imagine Everton announcing that one of their midfielders was unavailable for Saturday's Premier League fixture because they couldn't get the shift off. At this level, however, football cannot always win the argument. For all the commitment required to play semi-professionally, another occupation may still provide the player's primary livelihood. Training sessions and fixtures have to be fitted around that reality, and sometimes the two simply cannot coexist. Whing described similarly difficult circumstances after Banbury's promotion increased the amount of travelling required. Four or five hours on a coach on Saturday could be followed by another lengthy journey on Tuesday night before work again on Wednesday morning. It is why the word ‘part-time’ can sometimes feel misleading. The football may technically be part-time, but the hours surrounding it can make the commitment feel anything but. When sport isn’t the only career This balancing act is something plenty of people have to manage in their daily lives, and semi-professional athletes outside football are no different. During my time with Widnes Vikings, I encountered perhaps one of the more unusual examples of a semi-professional athlete’s working life. Widnes winger Ryan Ince spends his days away from rugby league as a beekeeper. What initially began through somebody at his previous job has developed into a full-time business, with Ince explaining that he now has around 150 hives producing honey, which he sells himself, online and through local businesses. The career became particularly important after he moved away from full-time rugby. Ince initially completed an apprenticeship after leaving the full-time game but admitted the work was not something he particularly enjoyed. By the time he finished, however, another opportunity had quite literally been growing around him. “I had about 60 hives at the time, and I thought, why not? I’ll just full-time the bees,” Ince said. His working day now bears little resemblance to that of most professional sportspeople, especially around the busy spring and summer months. He has to prevent colonies from swarming, maintain his hives, extract and jar honey and manage the commercial side of the business. “I didn’t really enjoy my old job that I had,” he said. “Now I do this all the time and I’m quite happy.” Despite being in the world of rugby league, Ince's situation demonstrates the same broader challenge faced by athletes throughout semi-professional sport. Training sessions, matches, media duties and other sporting commitments have to coexist with the occupation providing another source of income and a life outside the game. Developing a different career path can offer more than simply another way of making money. It can provide independence, another identity and, perhaps most importantly, an avenue for the eventual moment when an athlete has to hang up their boots for good. The double cost of the double career These things all come with a price to pay, however, as maintaining both requires considerable effort. The 2026 review of research into working athletes found that physical attendance at both sport and employment was among the most frequently identified demands, alongside meeting performance standards in one or both environments. Conflicting schedules repeatedly appeared as a barrier, as did the physical and mental tiredness generated by combining sport and work. Those findings are particularly relevant to football. A semi-professional player cannot simply arrive at work exhausted every Monday because they played 90 minutes the previous afternoon, just as their manager is unlikely to accept consistently poor performances because their player has endured a difficult week at work. Injury creates a different complication altogether. Rehabilitation is part of a professional footballer’s occupation. Even during an injury spell, they are still paid, offered first-class treatment and rehabilitation to get them back fit as soon as possible. The situation can be very different for those who have other livelihoods away from the game. For semi-professionals who rely on being physically active and capable for their job, an injury whilst playing can affect both careers and create financial worries if they are unable to perform their job. Fatigue can create another difficulty. After combining employment, training and matches, opportunities for adequate rest and recovery can become limited. Time is not something handed to them, either. Evening training, midweek fixtures and Saturday matches coexist with employment, relationships, children and everything else that fills an ordinary week. Professional footballers undoubtedly have commitments away from the game themselves, but their principal occupation remains football. A typical recovery after a matchday for a professional versus a semi-professional. Graphic made in Canva by James Costello. But their full-time commitment relies on their football, as they wouldn’t have these opportunities without it. For semi-professionals, a supposedly part-time commitment can still demand huge amounts of time and effort, making flexibility particularly valuable. The systematic review found supportive and flexible employers were among the most frequently reported resources available to working athletes. Work that can accommodate football offers a very different dual career from one governed by rigid and inflexible shifts and no opportunities to change. The relationship between sport and work is therefore pivotal to semi-professionals' lives and careers. The two have to coexist, and it is the player's task to make that relationship as seamless as possible, preventing one from interfering with the other despite the sacrifices required. From fast food to the Premier League For a small number of players, however, there remains another reason to keep balancing the two: the possibility that one day they might not have to. Former Everton striker Beto knows that better than most. Long before leading the line in the Premier League, the Guinea-Bissau international was attempting to make his way through Portuguese football whilst simultaneously working in a fast-food restaurant. Everton have since described his journey as one from balancing part-time football and fast-food work to wearing the club's number nine shirt. Beto training in an Everton shirt. Photo credit: Everton YouTube. It is an extraordinary trajectory and one which makes Beto an exception rather than the rule. Thousands of semi-professional footballers will never receive the opportunity to make football their only occupation, regardless of their commitment to the game. Beto has spoken about the hurdles that could have prevented him reaching the Premier League and the mentality required to keep progressing. His journey eventually took him through Portuguese football to Udinese in Serie A before Everton brought him to England in 2023. For a player leaving work and heading straight to training tonight, stories like Beto's provide evidence, however unlikely, that the gap between the two worlds is still possible to cross, however unlikely that journey may be. The person serving food, driving a van, teaching a class or working in a warehouse today could still be a footballer at the same time. Why do it? It is understandable to ask why players continue to put so much time and effort into something unlikely to make them rich. Money will inevitably form part of the answer. At a time when living costs remain a concern for households across the country, even modest football earnings can provide tangible benefits alongside another salary. For others, the possibility of progression remains alive. But progression cannot explain everybody. Most semi-professional players will never make it to the Premier League or even the EFL. Some careers will remain within the lower tiers, where football is required to coexist with everything else. Enjoyment, competition, identity, teammates and a simple love of playing the game therefore become just as important. There can also be advantages to developing a life outside sport. The 2026 systematic review found that working alongside an athletic career could assist the eventual transition away from sport, with greater employment experience potentially providing more sustainable opportunities afterwards. One career does not necessarily have to wait for another to finish, and examples like Ryan Ince demonstrate why. It is easy to look at semi-professional football and focus on what separates it from the professional game. There are smaller grounds, fewer facilities and smaller wages, but perhaps the biggest difference of all is time. Football is not the working day; it has to work around it.

To the naked eye, football is just a game. For many people growing up in the UK, chances are they will have kicked a football at some point in their life. Whether at school, college or the local park, or eventually at a match on the weekend, football can become part of everyday life. But football in 2026 is much more than that. It is a business, a lifestyle, a career, a vocation and, for thousands of people, a destination. There is far more surrounding the game than simply a foot and a ball, much of which can go unnoticed by those unfamiliar with the industry. Winning is not just about the satisfaction of victory; results can influence sponsorship, revenue and the wider direction of a club. At the top of English football, players can dedicate almost every waking hour to their profession. Where a Premier League footballer might spend the morning after a match focused entirely on recovery and treatment, thousands of players further down the English pyramid have something rather different waiting for them on Monday morning: another working week. Semi-professional football is fundamentally the same game, but the wider picture surrounding it can look completely different. It is a world where training sessions take place after work; Tuesday night away games can follow an entire working day, while many of the people running clubs do so alongside careers and commitments of their own. For six months, I experienced part of that world first-hand while working as a Media and Marketing Officer at Avro FC in Oldham. Founded in 1936 by workers at aircraft manufacturer A.V. Roe, Avro have undergone a remarkable rise through the football pyramid in recent years, reaching Step 3 for the first time in the club's history ahead of the 2026/27 season. It was there that I began to understand just how blurred the boundary between professional and amateur football can become. The players are still paid, signed and released, managers can lose their jobs, and supporters still hand over money at the turnstile before grabbing their pie and Bovril. The fans can be every bit as passionate about players who aren't household names, except at this level, the player they're shouting at might actually know who they are. Spend some time behind the scenes, however, and the differences become enormous. The office at Avro is effectively a shed in disguise, serving little purpose beyond providing somewhere to work and keeping you out of the cold on a winter afternoon. Nearby sits a function room and bar, where players can have a drink after the final whistle. There are no sprawling media centres or multimillion-pound training facilities; the football is the same, but almost everything surrounding it is different. A pyramid much bigger than 92 clubs The Premier League’s 20 clubs and 72 members of the English Football League make up what supporters traditionally call ‘the 92’, but relegation from League Two does not mean falling out of English football. Far from it. For the 2026/27 season, the FA allocated 996 clubs across 48 divisions, 19 leagues and six steps of the National League System. The National League occupies Step 1, followed by National League North and South at Step 2. From there, the structure expands regionally until reaching 33 divisions across Steps 5 and 6. Where Avro FC sit in the English football pyramid. The club compete at Step 3 of the National League System, the seventh tier of English football, following promotion in 2025/26. Graphic by James Costello. It creates a pyramid containing vastly more clubs than the famous 92, yet many remain almost unknown beyond their local communities. Perhaps nowhere is the connection between those two footballing worlds more apparent than in the FA Cup, which offers clubs further down the pyramid the possibility of progressing far enough to face the professional elite. Marine experienced exactly that when the Merseyside club reached the FA Cup third round in 2020/21 and were handed a home tie against Premier League side Tottenham Hotspur. There was only one fairly significant problem: nobody was allowed in. COVID-19 restrictions meant supporters were unable to attend Rossett Park, although a few lucky residents found themselves with arguably the best free seats in football as their gardens overlooked the ground. Tottenham won 5-0, but the significance of the afternoon extended far beyond the scoreline. When I spoke to Marine vice-chairman Dave McMillan five years later, he said the fixture had been a “major factor” in increasing attendances after COVID and was “massive” in raising Marine’s profile. “If you get to the third round of the cup and you’re live against Spurs, live on BBC One, then it’s not gonna do any harm in terms of boosting your profile.” Dave McMillan, Marine vice-chairman, speaking to James Costello The benefits were not restricted to publicity. “The Spurs game gave us the opportunity to reinvest that money in the club facilities,” McMillan said. That investment included installing a 3G pitch, refurbishing Marine’s social club and making further ground improvements, which later became increasingly important as the club climbed into National League North. No wonder they call it the magic of the cup. But occasions like Marine against Tottenham are memorable precisely because they are exceptional. For some clubs, football is an occupation. For others, football has to fit around a different occupation. Clocking off before kick-off No two semi-professional footballers live exactly the same life. Some work full-time from Monday to Friday. Others are self-employed. Some study alongside playing. Whatever the arrangement, football has to coexist with responsibilities that simply do not exist in the same way for Premier League players. Academic research often describes this combination of high-level sport alongside employment or education as a ‘dual career’. A 2026 systematic review of athletes combining sport with work found financial necessity was the most frequently reported reason for maintaining employment alongside an athletic career, while scheduling conflicts and physical and mental fatigue were among the barriers identified by athletes. That can transform the most ordinary parts of a fixture list. A Tuesday night away match might follow an entire working day, while training cannot always be organised around optimum recovery when players have jobs to attend. Injuries can also affect more than availability on Saturday if a player's livelihood away from football depends upon them being physically fit. Where professionals can remain almost permanently engulfed within football's ecosystem, semi-professionals spend their lives bouncing in and out of it. A diagram showing the key differences at face value between professional and semi-professional footballers in England. Graphic by James Costello. More than the starting XI The players may put on the show, but a non-league matchday relies on far more than the starting XI. Someone needs to prepare the pitch, open the ground, operate the turnstiles, provide security, serve supporters and keep those following from home updated. Those jobs exist throughout football, but the major difference further down the pyramid is who carries them out. At the professional level, many of those responsibilities belong to paid employees and dedicated departments. For smaller clubs, volunteers can be the difference between a matchday functioning and not functioning at all. Perhaps nobody demonstrates the strange reality of non-league football better than Avro volunteer Malc Todd. An honorary life member, Todd has filled more roles at the club than most people will have jobs in their lifetime, serving as a kit man, first aider, car park steward, turnstile operator, junior referee, junior coach and vice-president. At a Premier League club, that list could represent half a department directory; at Avro, it represents one volunteer. Former Avro head of media and communications Rob Currell described volunteers as the people who “keep the wheels spinning” at grassroots clubs, with some at Avro providing decades of service. The club’s volunteers have helped with everything from coaching and maintaining the ground to marketing, legal work and media. The Vestacare Stadium, home of Avro FC. Photo by: Gordon Marino. Even Avro’s hospitality operation has an unlikely connection to football’s elite. After retiring, John Brereton began volunteering with the club’s matchday hospitality team, having previously worked in hospitality at Manchester City. It is the same sport and the same fundamental need to welcome supporters and guests on matchday, but a completely different environment in which to do it. Without people like Todd and Brereton, clubs at this level would struggle to function in the way they do. Every supporter through the turnstile matters, as does every pint bought in the clubhouse, every local business willing to sponsor the team and every person prepared to give up their Saturday afternoon without expecting much, if anything, in return. The sums involved might be minuscule compared with those at the top of English football, but their importance can be enormous. Football’s financial divide Fundamentally, the same game is played for 90 minutes at every level of the pyramid. It is everything surrounding those 90 minutes that gives each layer its own distinct flavour. Broadcasting revenues shrink as you travel down the divisions, crowds become smaller, commercial opportunities become increasingly local and national media attention gradually disappears. Yet the objective remains exactly the same: win football matches and get promoted. Concerns over football’s finances are not exclusive to semi-professional clubs. The government-commissioned Fan-Led Review of Football Governance examined the financial problems present throughout the pyramid and identified long-term financial sustainability as one of the fundamental issues facing the English game. It also highlighted the enormous financial gaps that can exist between different levels of the pyramid. For a club such as Avro, which has experienced a dramatic upward trajectory in recent years, promotion represents success. The 2026/27 season sees the club competing at Step 3 for the first time, bringing different opponents, longer journeys and a higher level of competition. Climbing the pyramid can also bring changing demands surrounding grounds, operations and playing budgets, meaning that progression on the pitch has to be matched by progression away from it. That creates an interesting contradiction within semi-professional football. Winning and climbing the pyramid is ultimately what every ambitious club wants, but what happens when that ambition begins to outgrow the resources available to sustain it? Success sounds universally positive on paper, but how much does it actually cost to keep progressing up the football ladder? Fighting to be noticed Money is not the only currency distributed unevenly across English football; attention is another. For clubs such as Avro, that attention often has to be created from scratch. Social media provides a way to keep supporters engaged beyond a few hours on a Saturday, while giving non-league clubs direct control over how they communicate through team news, graphics, interviews, match reports, photographs and live updates. It all sounds remarkably similar to the work being carried out by media departments across the professional game because, in many ways, the expectations are still the same. Supporters want immediate updates, photographs and highlights, while sponsors want exposure and clubs want people coming through the turnstiles. The resources available to meet those expectations are very different. Having spent six months helping to produce that content myself, I saw how much work can sit behind something as simple as a team-sheet graphic appearing on somebody’s phone. At this level, media therefore becomes more than simply documenting what happens on the pitch. Visibility can help attract supporters, promote sponsors, showcase players and keep a club in the conversation for longer than 90 minutes on a Saturday. For clubs fighting for attention in crowded local sporting markets, being seen can become part of being sustainable. A place to start again Semi-professional football can also provide something less tangible than money or exposure: opportunity. For some players, dropping down the pyramid represents the latter stages of a career, whereas for others it can offer the chance to begin again. Young players who don't make it through a professional academy can suddenly find themselves outside an environment that has structured much of their childhood. Non-league football provides another route, offering competitive matches, regular coaching and, most importantly, another opportunity to be seen. Avro in action. Photo by: Gordon Marino. Avro have their own examples of players progressing upwards after developing within the club. Their journeys demonstrate why non-league clubs cannot simply be considered smaller versions of professional ones. They can simultaneously operate as sporting institutions, workplaces, development pathways, community organisations and social hubs. Part-time dreams with full-time needs The English football pyramid is celebrated because, theoretically, every club has another rung of the ladder to climb. No matter how big or small the club, there is always another promotion or success to dream about, but every step of that pyramid needs people and resources to sustain it. Part-Time Dreams with Full-Time Needs will explore the people who make semi-professional football possible: the players clocking off before kick-off, the volunteers and staff keeping clubs alive, the battle for attention away from the professional game and the young footballers using non-league as a pathway towards something bigger. Ultimately, it will ask whether the model underpinning this enormous part of English football is sustainable and, if not, what needs to change for it to become so. The dream of climbing the English football pyramid remains full-time, even when the resources rarely are.

The Vestacare Stadium. Photo by Jamie Ross. When the referee’s whistle goes at 3 o'clock on a Saturday, it signals the start of the main event: the match. For many supporters, that is where their afternoon begins. For others, it marks the moment when hours of work behind the scenes finally become worthwhile, having played their part in making the event in front of them possible. During my time working within Avro’s media operation, I became accustomed to seeing many of the same faces around the Vestacare Stadium. Some worked in hospitality, others maintained the ground, while matchdays brought photographers, camera operators, media staff and countless other roles that supporters could easily overlook, if not for the giant bibs that we all had to wear to signify we were somewhat important. The scale of that operation became particularly noticeable during Avro’s play-off semi-final against Lower Breck in April. An ordinary matchday had suddenly become one of the biggest matches in the club’s recent history, on a late Tuesday night no less. Additional security was present; hospitality had to prepare for the increased demand, and multiple media and camera crews descended on the ground to document the occasion. Yet among the increased attention were many of the same people I had encountered throughout the season. People like Malc Todd and John Brereton, who I had bumped into and spoken with during my time at the club, represent something fundamental about football at this level. These are the people who help ensure there is a functioning football club for the players to represent. The job nobody sees Malc Todd’s CV is one decorated with all things Avro. Malc is an honorary life member who has been involved with the club for many years, volunteering as a kit-man, first aider, steward and turnstile operator. He has also served as club vice-president, refereed junior matches and tried his hand at coaching. All these responsibilities would normally be divided between numerous employees at a professional football club. Here at non-league level, however, one person can find themselves wearing several different hats. Todd was one of the familiar faces I encountered during my own time at the club, as well as John Brereton, another volunteer whose responsibilities have centred around matchday hospitality since his retirement. Brereton previously worked in hospitality at Manchester City before bringing that experience with him a few miles north to the Vestacare Stadium. When Avro paid tribute to its volunteers, a lot of praise was given to John for his approach and commitment to the club, even after doing it for so long. When a supporter comes to a football match, it would be easy for them to dismiss hospitality, car parks, turnstiles and kits as peripheral to the reason people go. None of these will directly alter the scoreline or determine whether a supporter goes home satisfied with the result. Fans could have a brilliant pie, but if their team goes on to lose, chances are they will forget about that pretty quickly. But if you strip all of these features away and the people that help operate them for the fans, staging the match suddenly becomes a lot more difficult. A graphic showcasing the number of people required to make a matchday possible, many of whom will be working unpaid. Graphic by James Costello. Mark Claypole, the club's Grounds and Maintenance Officer, became another familiar face during my time at Avro. I had a number of small conversations with Mark throughout my time at the club and, much like Malc and John, he was always incredibly welcoming whenever I was around the ground. Ground maintenance is another job that can easily disappear into the background. Supporters arrive expecting a pitch to be playable and a stadium to be ready without necessarily considering the work required to get it there. It is only when something goes wrong, perhaps through bad weather or a postponement, that its importance suddenly becomes obvious. Avro chairman Rob Currell has regularly stressed just how dependent clubs at this level are on the people willing to give up their time. Writing during Volunteers’ Week, Currell described volunteers as the “life blood of non-league football”, adding that clubs such as Avro rely on them to play an instrumental role in keeping their day-to-day operations running. It is a reliance that extends far beyond simply helping out on a Saturday afternoon. In another tribute to the club’s volunteers, Currell said they “keep the wheels spinning” at grassroots clubs, with some of those at Avro having accumulated decades of service between them. That contribution does not necessarily require decades, either. When Avro advertised opportunities for people to get involved with the club, Currell argued that “volunteering a few hours a week makes a huge difference to a club like ours.” “Volunteers are the life blood of non-league football.” — Rob Currell, Avro FC Millions of hours for nothing Research commissioned by the Football Association estimated that approximately 1.4 million people volunteer in grassroots football across England every year. Collectively, they contribute around 186 million hours annually. The average league or club official was estimated to dedicate around 12 hours each week to grassroots football, compared with approximately two hours for the average volunteer across other sectors. The scale of volunteering in English grassroots football. Graphic by James Costello. Source: The FA, The Social and Economic Value of Grassroots Football in England (2020) These figures begin to demonstrate the sheer amount of unpaid work underpinning football below the professional game. At Avro, that extends well beyond matchdays. In 2024, the club launched a Volunteers Working Group which met at the Vestacare Stadium every Wednesday during the close of the season. The jobs advertised were hardly glamorous: gardening, painting, litter picking, cleaning and general DIY. Two years later, ahead of Avro’s first campaign at Step Three, the club held another full-day volunteering event to improve its facilities. The work itself was hardly glamorous, with plenty of painting and restoration required to ensure the stadium was ready to accommodate an ever-growing fanbase. But the satisfaction of seeing those improvements, while bonding over a shared love for the club, helped make giving up an entire day worthwhile. The irony is that as results improve on the pitch, operations off it have to grow too. Bigger crowds have to be accommodated, both among home supporters and away fans travelling to matches, meaning facilities need improving as expectations increase. Yet the people responsible for meeting many of those expectations can still be volunteers, not getting any pay. The teacher running the media One of the people I worked most closely with at Avro was Liam Bambridge. When he wasn’t working as a teacher, Bambridge had spent years giving up his free time to work within non-league football media, including eight years with Lewes before joining Avro. When I first met him, I discovered the time commitment involved before I had even properly settled into my role. One of my first meetings with Bambridge came away at Lower Breck in November 2025, as Avro won 3-0 against the then league leaders on a cold, brisk Wednesday night, but the football represented only part of our evening. Bambridge pointed out to me that by the time the work was finished and everyone had travelled home, some of us would not be getting back until around two o’clock in the morning. It was one of my earliest introductions to the reality of working behind the scenes in non-league football. A midweek fixture does not simply occupy the 90 minutes between kick-off and the final whistle. There is travelling, preparation and work afterwards, all while another career and ordinary life continue around it. He regularly spoke to me about Avro’s need for more people within its media operation. There was simply too much work for one person to cover everything expected of a modern football club, whilst his own responsibilities demonstrated the problem at large. On matchdays he operated as the stadium announcer, as well as conducting interviews with players and managers and working across the club’s wider media output. At the same time, he dedicated considerable time towards helping me improve my own work, offering assistance and feedback as I settled into my role. Liam Bambridge during a matchday. Photo by Gordon Marino. He highlighted the contradiction facing those who work in non-league media, as most people doing the jobs were volunteers, yet what they were being asked to produce was often comparable to the demands placed upon people elsewhere in football. The platforms do not particularly care whether the person operating them is being paid. Supporters still expect team news, scores, photographs, interviews, video and reaction, all within a good time frame from the build-up to the game to just after the final whistle. A club’s social media feed does not stop needing content, and in a world where interactions are so important for growth, it cannot stop just because the person running it has other requirements. My own role was primarily focused on giving greater publicity to Avro's women's, Under-18 and Under-21 sides. That meant producing graphics and result screens, writing match reports, conducting interviews and creating social media content around teams which could otherwise struggle for the same attention as the men's first team. Bambridge regularly stressed to me the importance of attracting greater attention through social media and ultimately bringing more people through the turnstiles. If Avro wanted to continue growing as a club, increasing attendances was one of its biggest priorities away from the pitch. The work we were producing therefore had a purpose beyond simply keeping a social media account active. The person posting an interview or operating camera equipment is not necessarily performing an optional extra. Their work can become part of how a club attempts to build its audience and its future. When there aren't enough hands As important as these people are, relying so heavily on volunteers presents its own problems. Clubs still need to find them in the first place, and then somehow convince them to keep giving up their time. Avro's own attempts to do that demonstrate the scale of the challenge. In 2024, the club advertised for somebody to help recruit, support and retain volunteers across its different departments. The estimated commitment was around six hours every week, covering everything from bringing new people into the club to helping keep existing volunteers engaged. There was one rather fitting catch: that role was voluntary too. It almost sums up the reality of operating a football club at this level. Volunteers had become so important that Avro needed another volunteer just to help look after them. The problem was not restricted to finding people to manage volunteers. In April 2026, towards the end of my own time with the club, Avro advertised for a new Media Manager. Despite the responsibility that comes with managing the media output of a football club, that position was also voluntary. It was not the first time Avro had looked towards volunteers to fill gaps within its media operation. The previous summer, the club advertised for a photographer, journalist and programme editor as it looked to increase and improve its output. All three roles were voluntary, albeit with reasonable expenses covered. It reinforces what Bambridge had told me throughout my own time there. The demand for content was growing, but finding enough people with the time to produce it remained a challenge. The difficulty is that goodwill cannot be treated as an unlimited resource. Jobs change, families require attention, and people's circumstances move on. Somebody willing to sacrifice every other Saturday today might not be able to make the same commitment next season. For clubs relying upon those people across hospitality, media, coaching, maintenance and administration, losing even a handful can create gaps that are difficult to fill. The obvious solution would be employing somebody instead, but at a level where every additional expense matters, that is not always realistic. It creates an unusual balancing act. Non-league clubs increasingly want to grow and operate more professionally, but much of that professionalism remains dependent upon people who are not professional employees at all. After the final whistle My own contributions at Avro were a small part of a much wider operation. It takes many hands to operate a matchday and ensure it runs as seamlessly as possible, with the ultimate aim of giving supporters the best experience surrounding the match. On the bigger occasions, all of these responsibilities only become more obvious. The play-off semi-final against Lower Breck eventually finished with Avro celebrating a dramatic penalty shootout victory, but that moment was the culmination of considerably more work than the 120 minutes of football that had just taken place. Security staff had been needed, hospitality had been organised, the ground had been prepared, and several media teams had documented the occasion. Once the celebrations eventually died down and supporters began heading home, there was still work to be done. It makes the term ‘volunteering’ feel slightly misleading. The term says very little about the role itself or the scale of the responsibility involved; it tells us only that somebody is giving up their time. Throughout my time at the club, I saw countless people give up evenings, weekends and hours for a football club they wanted to see succeed. Some had been doing it considerably longer than I had and would continue doing so long after my own role had finished. The players will always receive most of the attention, and rightly so. They score the goals, win the matches and ultimately determine where Avro stands in the football pyramid. But if you remove the people responsible for the jobs that create that matchday experience, there suddenly might not be a match to watch at all.

Sign supporting Avro. Photo by Milo Mason. Here’s one tip if you are a small football club looking for social media engagement. Win big and gain big. That’s what Avro did on the final day of the 2025/26 Northern Premier League West season, when it felt like every refresh of the official social media pages resulted in another graphic saying “Goal!”. They went into the afternoon two points behind rivals Bury in an unlikely title race, needing to win against Darlaston Town and hoping the league leaders would slip up away at Atherton Collieries. By half-time, Avro were 8-0 up. By full-time, they won 13-0. The scoreline completely obliterated Bury’s advantage on goal difference, meaning that even a draw wouldn’t be enough for them to win the title. However, the Shakers eventually won 3-0 to secure the title, meaning Avro’s impressive result ultimately counted for nought. Not if you were part of the social media team that covered the game, though. The day as a whole and the flattering result certainly gathered the attention of plenty of people online. On X, Avro recorded more than one million impressions on the day alone, the highest single-day figure recorded during my six months working within the club’s media operation. Unfortunately, that result was an outlier. Not everyone can win 13-0 each week. There are 10,000 minutes in a week 10,080 if you want to be extra specific, meaning that 9,990 minutes do not contain the centrepiece of the club’s week: the game. The content during those 90 minutes comes from everything the players on the pitch produce. Goals, tackles, controversies, celebrations. It provides the perfect opportunity to write, video, photograph and talk about the game in front of you. A football match only takes up 0.9% of a full week. Graphic by James Costello. So what happens to the 99% of the week elsewhere? My own role at Avro primarily involved generating greater publicity for the club’s women’s, Under-18 and Under-21 sides. I produced graphics, result screens, match reports, interviews and social media posts, often around teams which naturally received less attention than the men’s first team, presenting an obvious problem. You cannot create attention simply by demanding that people become interested. With the men’s first team occupying the Saturday 3 o'clock spotlight, it left all the other Avro sides having to take centre stage on Sundays. Part of my role was ensuring those teams did not disappear from the club’s platforms during the rest of the week. This was easier said than done, as I couldn’t attend every fixture myself, meaning the quality of the coverage I could produce depended upon communication from somebody who was there, such as a coach. As a result, a photograph or video needed to reach me before I could turn it into something worth publicising. When communication was limited, so was my content. It showed the wider difficulties of working voluntarily for these clubs, having to make sacrifices that meant not every hour was spent working on what you enjoyed doing. Not everyone can get to games to cover social media material, and even if they do, there is no guarantee that the content will be good and usable, especially compared to the quality of the main team. It highlighted one of the fundamental differences between clubs at this level and those in the professional game, who can send multiple photographers, videographers, social media producers, journalists and more to the same fixtures, provided the fixtures don’t clash. Further down the pyramid, there might be someone waiting at home for somebody at the ground simply to let them know the score. But when I got good material, it showed through the socials. My experience was far from unique. Corinthian-Casuals Head of Media Dominic Bliss has spoken about similar limitations, explaining that the depth of his club's matchday coverage can depend upon how many volunteers are available and whether the fixture is home or away. Even something as simple as identifying a goalscorer can become difficult. Bliss described the frustration of publishing a goal update before discovering that the scorer was somebody else entirely. It is the kind of mistake that can look careless from the outside but demonstrates the difficulties of producing immediate coverage without the resources available higher up the pyramid. At this level, the expectation remains instant. The information required to provide it does not always arrive quite so quickly. Videos are key In my experience, video was consistently the strongest material for interaction and engagement. It makes content easier for others to share with their friends or followers, promoting a constantly repeating cycle of clicks. During my time with the club, I would be begging for any sort of video capture to be able to post on stories, as that always seemed to perform the best not only in terms of likes but responses too. One example came through Avro striker Harry Salt, who shared one of Avro’s posts containing footage of an Under-21 goal. It was only a small interaction but demonstrated another advantage clubs have online. Players are more likely to share content themselves, meaning it is no longer restricted to the audience already following the official club account. To add to that, these players aren’t media-trained. They aren’t told to act a certain way on social media, or have their own PR person tweet for them, or only tweet when they score, for example. They are just normal people who use their accounts in the same way we do, to interact with others. The more interaction, the better. For the likes of youth and women’s teams, this level of interaction can really make a difference. A supporter who primarily follows Avro’s first team might have little reason to care about the Under-18s, but put a goal directly onto their feed, and the barrier to engaging with them suddenly becomes a lot smaller. Across the period in which I worked for them, the club's X account recorded 4.3 million impressions, an increase of 12%, alongside more than 100 new followers. On Instagram, Avro's videos accumulated over 150,000 views, with more than 1,500 likes and 200 new followers added during the same period. These figures all showcased the size of the audience available to a club playing outside the professional leagues. Those engagements and followers are valuable, but for a club like Avro, the bigger challenge is turning digital attention into something tangible, whether that is greater attendance, stronger recognition or commercial value, and especially generating more money on matchdays. Seeing more people come through the turnstiles because they have previously engaged with the club’s social accounts was and still is the ultimate goal in the football market in this day and age for small clubs like Avro. From a view to a turnstile Avro’s average attendance rose to 284 in the 2025/26 campaign, 93 higher than the previous season. As much as it would be convenient to claim that social media was the reason for the increase, there was no way to prove that. Chart detailing the growth in home attendance for Avro across the 24/25 and 25/26 seasons. Graphic by James Costello. Avro were simultaneously enjoying an excellent season on the pitch, culminating in a last-day decider for the title, before eventually winning promotion via the play-offs. Winning football matches remains a fairly effective marketing strategy. Yet Liam Bambridge regularly stressed that increasing the club’s visibility online mattered because Avro ultimately needed more people coming through the turnstiles if it wanted to continue to grow. The relationship between a social media impression and a paying supporter is far from straightforward. Like a lot of things on social media, people can scroll onto something, like it and refresh the page, and by that point the post has already become a forgotten memory. But another story from a different non-league club has demonstrated what can happen when online attention becomes a central part of its identity. Telling the story Farnham Town chairman Harry Hugo believes one of non-league football’s biggest missed opportunities is not necessarily what clubs achieve, but whether anybody hears about it. Under Hugo, Farnham have placed digital storytelling at the centre of the club’s growth. Their Non-League Diaries give supporters gives supporters a regular behind-the-scenes look at the club, while short-form videos and social content ensure while short-form videos and social content ensure the story continues between matches rather than relying solely on results. Supporters have travelled from places including Scotland and Manchester after discovering Farnham online. Hugo described social media as hugely important commercially and for both fan engagement and brand awareness. “Other clubs achieve remarkable things too but struggle to get the message out and tell their story." “With so many clubs farming for interactions, we knew we had to go to the extreme to rise above the rest in order to drive interaction with other fanbases. Targeting popular football personalities was something that people get easily attached to, and seeing them in other areas would move eyes, and more importantly for us, drive clicks.” The strategy worked! Last year, former footballer Peter Crouch turned up to a game as the club’s mascot, driving social interaction through the roof, as big accounts such as Sky Sports and the BBC reported on the bizarre incident. The club managed to accumulate over 20 million impressions within the first 36 hours of the post going live, alongside a then-record attendance of 2,134. Of course, the stunt worked partly because of its absurdity. Peter Crouch turning up as a mascot stops being remarkable if it happens every week. The transferable lesson is not to find a former England striker, but to give supporters characters, stories and moments worth sharing so that Saturday's result becomes only one part of the club's identity. A lot is made of maximising a non-league club’s local fanbase and encouraging supporters to attend on a Saturday afternoon, particularly for teams competing for attention with bigger clubs nearby. That is what makes creating an identity 24/7 so important, so that the result is only a small part of the ‘engagement’ week. The responsibility of keeping a club visible online does not always have to fall solely on those working behind the scenes either. At Marine, supporters themselves have helped expand the club's presence beyond matchdays through independent fan media. Marine supporter Adam Bretherton is part of The Crosender Way, a supporters' group which has produced YouTube vlogs, player interviews and podcasts surrounding the club. What started as an attempt to increase Marine's presence on social media developed into something with a wider aim of raising awareness of the club and attracting new supporters. It offers another route for clubs without the resources of the professional game. Supporters are no longer restricted to consuming whatever the official account publishes; they can help tell the story themselves. For a club trying to remain relevant throughout the week, an active online fanbase effectively creates another media outlet without adding another person to the payroll. When the audience comes first Hashtag United started from the ground up, but they had a plan. Created by YouTuber Spencer Owen in 2016, they were an amateur football team that filmed and uploaded all of their videos online even before the club entered the English football pyramid. By the time they joined non-league football in 2018, they had more than 350,000 subscribers, a record high for a team that low in the football pyramid. Commercial director Seb Carmichael-Brown said at the time that the club wanted to bring a “fresh set of eyeballs” into non-league football. It went completely against the typical curve of the game, essentially bringing people up to speed with what non-league football looked like from a casual perspective. It gave personality to the team and its players through highlights and extensive behind-the-scenes footage that showed players away from matches rather than solely through a camera filming the game from afar. Hashtag United in 2018. Photo by Hashtag United. Their existence challenges the traditional idea of what a football supporter has to be. Somebody can follow a club as small and low down as Hashtag without living anywhere near the ground and never watching them live. They can know the players, interact with the team and others following it, and buy into the storyline Hashtag were trying to create all through a computer screen. The circumstances are completely different for Avro, who cannot manufacture hundreds of thousands of followers, nor can social media recreate the generations of support enjoyed by clubs like Bury. Bury are themselves unusual at this level, carrying the history and support of a club that spent generations in the Football League before their collapse and subsequent return through the pyramid. On the final day of the season, Avro were competing with Bury not just for the title but for attention too, having to make noise on a day that was crucial for both clubs. Scoring 13 goals certainly helped attract that attention, and even after the full-time whistle confirmed Bury as champions, Avro had still recorded their greatest day for social media views to date. Attention has value It’s all well and good nurturing a strong social media connection with supporters and ever-increasing views through posts and videos, but there is also another important element to growing a social media presence: the financial side. Promoting a strong social audience can help with advertising commercial opportunities to businesses. Its sponsorship material highlights a following of more than 12,500 people across social media alongside the physical exposure available at matches. Sponsors are no longer paying solely for an advertising board on the side of a pitch that a few hundred supporters see. If this branding appears behind an interview, on a graphic, or through video content, it can potentially reach thousands more people who had no part to play inside the stadium. This creates an interesting contradiction within the world of non-league football, as the media operations can contribute towards building an audience that clubs can subsequently offer to commercial partners, while much of the content itself is produced by volunteers working for free. This trend is continuing into the new season for Avro, with the club advertising for a new Media Manager as late as this May, and stating its role as purely voluntary, despite dealing with a lot of financial technicalities and sponsor opportunities. The demand for media is greater than the resources and time many non-league clubs can afford to dedicate to it. Fighting to be noticed For all the millions of impressions accumulated during my time at Avro, most posts did not come remotely close to the attention generated by that 13-0 win over Darlaston. The reality was far more ordinary, with some graphics receiving a handful of likes, and occasionally a tweet or a video would do well and prove that there are people who care beyond the core audience. That does not make the smaller posts pointless. A non-league club cannot rely upon extraordinary scorelines, former England players turning up as mascots or hundreds of thousands of subscribers to maintain attention. For clubs like Avro, it is about constantly finding something worth showing people during the long periods when there is no first-team match to provide it for them. Everything surrounding the first team has a place online and helps keep Avro visible. That battle for attention is only becoming more difficult as football supporters are given more ways to consume games. Avro simply cannot compete with the Premier League for worldwide attention, nor can they rival the established support Bury carried into last season's title battle. What social media provides is an opportunity to remind people that the club is there and give them a reason to care about what’s next. There are only 90 minutes of football on a typical Saturday afternoon, but another 9,990 minutes remain in the week. For clubs like Avro, fighting to be noticed means making those minutes matter too, whether that comes through a goal clip, an interview, a youth-team result or something as simple as reminding somebody that another game is just around the corner.

Avro U18's team. Photo by Gordon Marino. One day, footballer Jordan Lussey was travelling on a private jet with Liverpool’s first team for a Europa League fixture against Besiktas in 2015. He was an unused option for Brendan Rodgers' side at the time, seemingly within touching distance of making a professional debut for the club he had grown up dreaming of representing. That day sadly never came, as a few seasons later Lussey was spending three hours travelling to Blyth Spartans on a freezing Tuesday night. The stadiums had become smaller, the pitches less forgiving and the comforts of one of England’s biggest football clubs had disappeared. For a player who had been at Liverpool since the age of eight, it was an entirely different footballing world. “You’re in a bubble at Kirkby. Being at Liverpool from the age of eight, it was all I knew,” he said. Lussey, from Ormskirk, joined Liverpool’s academy in 2002 and remained there for more than a decade, progressing to the Under-21 side and representing England at youth level. The midfielder grew up surrounded by the facilities, expectations and identity of a club where his ultimate ambition, like so many others around him, was to become a professional footballer. That bubble had unfortunately burst in 2015. Jordan Lussey in action for Liverpool U21s. Photo by Getty Images. The odds of making the transition from academy prospect to established professional are remarkably small. The Premier League acknowledges that the majority of players will leave the academy system without a professional playing career. Among recent graduates, only 16% of those who started at Category One academies had made a league appearance. That figure falls to 9% for Category Two and just 5% for Category Three. Chart showing the percentage of academy players who go on to make a league appearance. Graphic by James Costello. The figures suggest that being released is almost an inevitability for these young players, but the reality is much harsher than it may seem. “The hardest part of leaving a major academy isn’t the drop in quality; it’s losing that built-in security blanket,” Lussey said. “When you’re young, they tell you you’re going to be the next Steven Gerrard, and as a kid, that is all you can think about. You go to school thinking about it, go to bed thinking about it; it becomes an unhealthy obsession for someone so young to think like that. Unfortunately for me, when the contract wasn’t renewed, the safety net that had formed had suddenly disappeared overnight. “You have to learn how to survive in the real football world without the badge protecting you.” Nowadays, the Premier League requires clubs to have transition strategies for released academy players, including a three-year commitment of support for those departing during the Professional Development Phase. That support can include education, career assistance and help with mental and emotional wellbeing. Lussey had none of that at his disposal at the time. “I didn’t have that kind of support when I was released. I had nothing to hold onto; I had to find my way out of the hole that was dug up for me all by myself. “I couldn’t question why I was release. Meanwhile other players I had spent years with and formed good relationships with on and off the pitch were playing in the Football League, and I was stuck waiting for the phone to ring for an opportunity. “I didn’t have the mental support to deal with that harsh reality. It took me to a dark place and I had to force myself to make peace with the path that I had gone down. “I had to keep telling myself that my path was not over, that it had just gone in a different direction, and that was getting me by during a difficult time for me.” That path took Lussey through numerous clubs outside the Football League, including Marine and Bootle, all with different surroundings and cultures, but the same football education he had received as a child didn’t simply disappear when he left Kirkby. Jordan Lussey at Marine. Photo by Marine Football Club. “I didn’t realise how massive the club was until I was on the outside looking in. The standards, the discipline, and the work ethic taught at Liverpool stay with you for life. Even at Bootle or Marine, I still held myself to those exact same high standards because that is how Liverpool had raised me.” Finding a new route back Dropping out of an academy environment does not always mean the professional pathway has disappeared completely. Tommy McDermott experienced his own difficulties when transitioning back into grassroots football as a teenager. Before eventually making his professional breakthrough, Avro provided somewhere for him to play and rediscover his enjoyment of the game. “The biggest challenge I had at Avro was that initial step of coming back from academy football and playing grassroots again,” McDermott said. “It was tough mentally, but with the players and staff we had, I started to enjoy my football again; it became a real team effort where we all pushed each other to work hard as we all wanted to win.” His story subsequently travelled in the opposite direction to Lussey’s. McDermott credits former Avro coach Wes Roberts with believing in him and working tirelessly on his development. Rather than treating his return to grassroots football as a reason to lower expectations, the club regularly moved him above his own age group when the opportunities became available. Tommy McDermott, as part of the Avro Alumni series 2026. Graphic by James Costello. “My time at Avro was everything to me, really. I had a coach that believed in me and worked with me tirelessly, and the club wasn’t afraid to move me up age groups at any chance they got. “The connections I made at the club and the people I got to know ultimately resulted in me getting opportunities I wouldn’t have got if I was elsewhere,” McDermott said. One of these opportunities eventually took McDermott into Port Vale’s youth system, where he made his senior debut for the club at the age of 17 before signing for Burnley. Last season, he gained regular Football League experience during a loan spell at Shrewsbury Town, playing 34 times and scoring once. Tommy McDermott's career progression. Graphic by James Costello. For a player who had once found returning to grassroots football mentally difficult, the step backwards had eventually helped him move forwards. When I interviewed him, I asked what advice he would give to young players in the same position he had once been in: “The advice to the young talents there now is to really put the graft in, as Avro has a lot of eyes and people with connections at the club, and if you’re good enough, word gets about really quickly. There are people who have the capabilities to create opportunities for you at a professional level.” Tommy McDermott in action for Burnley against Reading - 11th January 2025. Photo by Burnley FC. There is no guarantee that following the same route will produce the same result, but McDermott’s journey demonstrates that leaving one pathway does not necessarily mean losing every route into professional football. Building from the bottom Not every football player goes from the top to the bottom before trying to rise back to where they came from. For some footballers, they start from ground zero and have to make the long journey up to professionalism. That is the case for former Avro player Michael Afuye, for whom the club provided an introduction to semi-professional football rather than somewhere to rebuild after leaving the professional game. Afuye made his semi-professional debut for the club after joining in 2021. His pace and ability quickly established him within the side, but Avro resisted the temptation to rush his progression. Michael Afuye signing for Radcliffe in 2025. Photo by Radcliffe FC. When he committed to another season in 2022, then-manager Alex Frost spoke publicly about the danger of talented players moving through the divisions too quickly, arguing that regular football without unnecessary pressure was more important for Afuye’s long-term development. A year later, Afuye joined Rochdale, and since then, his career has taken him through Guiseley and Curzon Ashton before joining Radcliffe, where he continues to play in National League North. Michael Afuye's career progression. Graphic by James Costello. “I look back on my time at Avro with happy memories, as I feel it gave me the foundations to be prepared for non-league football,” Afuye told me. “I still speak to many people still involved with the club and try my best to get down to games. I was celebrating like a fan when we won that shootout to take us to the playoff final. I will forever be a fan because of the amazing time I had here. “While playing for Avro, I met people who genuinely cared about me as a person, not just as a player, people that I could call friends for life, so I really appreciate my time there because along with good playing memories, I’ve met people who have had an impact on my life of which I’m grateful for.” Michael Afuye, as part of the Avro Alumni series, 2026. Graphic by James Costello. Afuye’s experience tells a different story that still results in a similar conclusion to McDermott’s, with both having used Avro as a pathway for further development before progressing higher up the football pyramid and taking what they learnt at the club with them. More importantly, it offers another interpretation of what player development can mean at this level. It becomes easy to measure progression of players through transfers, appearances and the level that they play at. Afuye instead points towards the importance of the environment surrounding a young player and believes that was the crucial thing he took from his time with Avro. “There’s a couple of interesting lessons I’ll carry with me for life so it’s hard to just pick one, but it would probably be the importance of having a good support system in place, having people that really care about you and are prepared to tell you the truth because at that level, it’s what’s needed." For clubs without Premier League-level facilities, strong academy budgets or large teams of specialist coaches in every position, making the best environment possible out of what is available can be seen as one of the most valuable things a club like Avro can provide. It is not just about allowing a player to play the game, but providing somewhere they feel wanted and can continue to develop. A place to start again Football can be a cruel and incredibly harsh sport. Thousands of young players enter academy systems hoping to make football their career, but only a small proportion will eventually establish themselves in the professional game. For those who don't, there is no guarantee that dropping into non-league will eventually lead them back to a professional contract. For every player spotted by a scout and offered another opportunity, countless others will build careers at this level or eventually leave competitive football altogether. However, that doesn't mean everything that came before was a failure. Non-league football can provide competitive senior matches, different coach voices and environments where players are given the time and patience to develop, away from the intense expectations of a professional academy system. For some players, non-league football simply becomes their level. It is where they belong, and they are satisfied with that. Avro celebrating a goal. Photo by Gordon Marino. For others, it is just another step towards getting back to the top. For players who have spent much of their childhood believing there is only one version of a successful football career, perhaps simply discovering that another route exists can matter just as much. Every player’s journey is different, and very few take the easy, straightforward path. Lussey has experienced both sides of that divide. After spending more than a decade developing within Liverpool's academy, his pathway took an unexpected turn into non-league football. The surroundings changed considerably, but the reason he continued playing did not. “People assume that dropping out of professional leagues means the dream is now over, but as long as you’re playing, football is a game of opinions. It only takes one performance in front of the right scout to turn things around. “For me, the love for the game doesn’t change just because the stadiums get smaller; in the right environment, the love can increase.”

Avro celebrating their promotion. Photo by Jamie Ross. When Avro’s players walked off the pitch at Stalybridge Celtic in May, they had achieved what the club had spent an entire season chasing: promotion. A 4-2 victory in the Northern Premier League West play-off secured Avro’s place at Step Three of the National League System for the first time in the club’s history, moving them another division closer to the professional game. Time will tell if they ever make it further, but it was a momentous occasion to be a part of. For the players, supporters and countless volunteers who had followed the club, it was the perfect ending. But promotion does not simply mean changing a few logos and opponents on the calendar for the year ahead. Not only will the new season bring challenges in terms of stronger opposition, but it also comes with longer journeys and greater expectations. Away from the challenges on the pitch, clubs also have to ensure that the facilities and infrastructure surrounding them are capable of moving upwards. Success doesn’t come for free in this sport. Winning is just the beginning The further a club climbs through the National League System, the greater the requirements for the football ground it calls home become. The FA operates a Stadium Accreditation system covering the different steps of the pyramid, with each step having to match the corresponding Grade requirements. These standards cover more than just the pitch itself. Things like floodlights, covered accommodation, seating, hardstanding, dressing rooms, medical facilities and media provision can all form part of these specific requirements that clubs must be aware of and manage in case of a promotion. These rules have to exist for games to even take place, as bigger teams mean larger crowds that require grounds that are better equipped for spectators’ safety and enjoyment. How the demands change after a club's promotion. Graphic by James Costello. For an ambitious non-league club that wants to progress up the footballing ladder, it means that the club as a whole has to improve, not just the 11 players on the pitch. It creates an unusual situation where success can be monitored in more ways than just results. Football is not just the game on the pitch anymore, and everything around it plays a crucial role in how a club performs. Success could mean improving club and ground facilities so that, for a potential promotion, they have everything in place to sustain the level that the club has reached. Growing with the team In January 2021, Marine FC hosted Tottenham Hotspur in the third round of the FA Cup. The match was played behind closed doors because of the COVID-19 pandemic, but more than 32,000 virtual tickets were sold as supporters around the world backed the non-league side. The result was predictably one-sided, with Spurs winning 5-0, but simply hosting José Mourinho's side represented an enormous opportunity for Marine, who benefited hugely from the event. “The Spurs game gave us the opportunity to reinvest that money in the club facilities,” Marine vice-chairman Dave McMillan told me. “Putting a 3G pitch in, refurbishing the social club, and further ground improvements that we needed to do since we got promoted to National League North.” Marine has since said that around £800,000 was invested into the club following that period, including the pitch and renovations to its bars and function rooms. This investment coincided with some extraordinary growth, as average attendances increased dramatically, going from around 350 to 1,400, while Marine achieved two promotions and reached National League North for the first time in the club’s history. It showed how investment on and off the pitch can work together, ensuring that when success arrives on the football side, the infrastructure is capable of following it. Where does the money come from? Marine’s Tottenham tie represents the sort of financial opportunity most non-league clubs could never include in a business plan. More than £300,000 was raised through virtual ticket donations alone, while the wider cup run provided Marine with a level of national exposure that clubs of their size rarely receive. The game was broadcast live on BBC One, where millions could tune in to watch for free, even if they lost comprehensively in the end. The benefits continued long after the fixture, with Marine later spending more than £500,000 installing its artificial pitch. Cup competitions can therefore offer something beyond the possibility of lifting a trophy. Prize money, gate receipts and national exposure can provide clubs with resources capable of changing their trajectory. McMillan highlighted the financial significance when discussing Marine’s FA Trophy run last season. “There’s a financial aspect, certainly in terms of prize money and gate shares,” he said. “I think Spennymoor last season made in excess of 100k just on the final itself.” For the overwhelming majority of clubs, however, there will be no big Premier League team arriving in the FA Cup and no enormous financial windfall waiting around the corner. Growth instead has to come through the less glamorous sources that keep these non-league clubs functioning every week. More supporters can mean more income, which is why attracting attention online matters. Greater facilities can create new revenue streams, but somebody has to operate them. Promotion can increase interest in a club, but it can also increase the demands placed on players and volunteers who already fit football around the rest of their lives, as the higher a club climbs, the harder it is to juggle their part-time dreams with their full-time needs. When the ground cannot follow Infrastructure can eventually become more than an inconvenience. FA regulations require clubs to obtain the appropriate stadium accreditation for their level. Failure to achieve the necessary standard can affect whether a club is eligible for promotion or even able to remain at its existing step. The football pyramid therefore contains an unavoidable tension. Clubs are encouraged to dream about climbing it, but if that ambition cannot be supported sustainably by the club's finances and facilities, progression becomes considerably more complicated. Marine have already had to confront this issue themselves, with plans in place to develop a new 5,000-capacity stadium and community facility at Edge Lane. Their current Rossett Park home has developed alongside the club, but further expansion there has been deemed unviable, meaning continued progression would require something more substantial. This proposed development would include a 3G pitch, a community hub, classrooms, a gym and health and wellbeing facilities. But there is perhaps no greater demonstration of the financial pressures created by progression than Hashtag United. After three promotions helped take the club from the tenth tier to Step Three, Hashtag took the extraordinary decision in March 2026 to request voluntary relegation regardless of where they finished at the end of the season. The decision was not initially driven by results. The club described competing at Step Three as financially “unsustainable”, instead believing that dropping back to Step Four would create significant savings and allow money to be redirected towards its long-term future, including investment in a new ground. Hashtag eventually finished in the relegation zone anyway, making the requested demotion unnecessary, but its intentions provided a remarkable example of the dilemma facing ambitious non-league clubs, raising the question of what happens when a club's ambitions begin to outrun its ability to sustain them. For most teams, promotion is positive, but Hashtag had reached a point where moving backwards was considered the more sustainable way of operating the club. The work begins after promotion For Avro, those demands are no longer hypothetical. Promotion last season took the club to Step Three for the first time in its history, an extraordinary rise for a side that was still competing at Step Seven as recently as 2018. Avro's rise through the footballing pyramid. Graphic by James Costello. The celebrations following the play-off final therefore quickly gave way to preparations for an entirely new level of football. In the programme for Avro's first Step Three fixture against Quorn, the club acknowledged that “a lot of work and maintenance” had taken place at the Vestacare Stadium during the summer. Much of that work again fell upon the same kind of people who have powered Avro's rise away from the pitch. Committee member Lynsey Mellor organised another volunteer day in July, while chairman Rob Fuller and vice-chairman Chris Kennedy were specifically thanked for their hands-on work throughout the close season. Plenty of work took place over the summer to ensure The Vestacare Stadium was ready for the step up. Photo by Jamie Ross. It creates an interesting consequence of success. Promotion might be earned by the players over 90 minutes, but preparing a club for what comes afterwards can involve weeks of work from people who never kick a ball. Eight years ago, Avro were a Step Seven club. Now they are competing at the highest level in their history. Every step upwards has required the operation surrounding the first team to grow with it. What is success worth? It would be easy to look at the financial demands of progressing up the football ladder and decide that for every success comes a boatload of problems that need solving to get there, and that is not worth the hassle. That could not be further from the truth. Clubs want to have these problems, because the game is what makes it all worth it. No club would enter a competition if they didn’t want to win it, no matter how big or small their chances are. For supporters, players and volunteers, these moments are the reward for everything surrounding them: the long, harsh evenings spent training after work, the unpaid hours preparing a ground ready for matchday, the multiple journeys across the country and the countless Saturday afternoons in every weather condition braving it out for three points. McMillan understood that when Marine found themselves within touching distance of Wembley during their FA Trophy run. “But even if you didn’t make a penny out of it, for a club of any size to get to Wembley is a once-in-a-generation opportunity really,” he said. The finances matter because without them the dream cannot remain sustainable. Facilities matter because clubs need somewhere capable of hosting the level they aspire to reach. Volunteers, players, media teams and supporters matter because without them there is very little club left to progress. But none of those realities removes the reason people become involved and fall in love with the sport of football in the first place. Success may create challenges, but that is the whole point. “But it’s all about allowing the fans to dream, isn’t it?” McMillan said. “You want your team to be winning trophies and get promotions.”

Grassroots football clubs across Merseyside and the UK are increasingly relying on university students to support media, marketing and matchday operations. Local clubs such as Avro FC in Manchester and Liverpool FEDS are community-driven organisations that depend heavily on volunteers for matchdays to function, from pitch operators and fan directors to club staff and media teams. Many clubs are becoming more reliant on younger students to help modernise social media and digital content strategies both on and off the pitch. Building pathways into football The BUCS Emerging Club Leaders (ECL) programme was created to give university students hands-on experience within grassroots football clubs and provide practical pathways into sport and media careers. The initiative, run by British Universities and Colleges Sport (BUCS), launched during the 2024/25 season with 31 students involved across clubs nationwide. The pilot programme generated more than 1,250 volunteering hours across grassroots football clubs. This season, 55 students participated across more than 20 clubs nationwide, with over 3,000 volunteering hours recorded. The programme continues to expand rapidly, with more than 100 students expected to take part next season. Graphic showing amount of hours contributed in both years of the BUCS Programme. Graphic showing increase in students year on year for the BUCS Programme. Sean Lofting (right) presenting the BUCS Graduation 2026. Picture by James Costello. Sean Lofting, National Football Development Manager at BUCS, praised the opportunities available for the “next generation” of sports media professionals. He said the initiative was designed to “make volunteering in football a viable pathway for development” for young people. “We know the importance of students getting hands-on experience whilst at university,” he said. “The BUCS ECL programme has massively helped students get real-world experience that is hard to come by these days.” Lofting added that the programme acts as a “stepping stone into the world of working in football”, helping students experience club operations both on and off the pitch before, during and after matchdays. Universities such as Liverpool John Moores University have been among those involved in the programme, helping students gain practical experience within football and sports media environments. https://www.tiktok.com/@jcozziesport/photo/7641849314045644054 Inside an Avro FC matchday Avro FC was one of the clubs involved in the programme, offering students practical experience within a non-league football environment. Students were placed into roles across media, marketing and matchday operations, helping clubs improve both their online presence and day-to-day organisation. At Avro, responsibilities ranged from filming matchday content and managing social media output to capturing the atmosphere around the club on matchdays. From filming warm-ups pitchside to capturing fan reactions after goals, the placement provided a first-hand insight into how much work takes place behind the scenes at non-league football clubs. Much of the work also took place away from the pitch, with content planning, editing and social media preparation often completed before and after matchdays. Inside an Avro FC matchday. Photo by James Costello Live updates, post-match content and short-form video clips have become increasingly important for non-league clubs looking to improve audience engagement and attract younger supporters online. Avro FC media officer Liam Bambridge previously said the experience of working in non-league football mirrors the professional game, particularly within media and communications roles. "What makes us stand apart at Avro was the community, locals that turn up at 3pm each Saturday are the ones that help us survive. "Running a non-league club so close to professional ones (Oldham, Manchester United/City), means that those who want to be there and help really want the club to succeed." The close relationship between supporters, volunteers and club staff creates a different atmosphere to the professional game, with many volunteers contributing alongside full-time work or education. Social media has also become increasingly important for grassroots football clubs looking to grow audiences and improve engagement within local communities. Platforms such as TikTok, Instagram and X allow clubs to reach younger supporters through behind-the-scenes content, matchday footage and short-form video clips. For many non-league clubs operating with limited budgets, student volunteers are helping modernise online content and strengthen digital engagement. Richard Neal from The Football Association also highlighted the importance of younger volunteers within grassroots football, particularly within media and communications roles. He praised the desire students have to make an impact within clubs, adding that younger volunteers bring fresh ideas and modern media knowledge into football environments. “Young people bring fresh ideas and energy into football clubs, especially within media and communications roles." Neal also stressed the importance of younger volunteers within football clubs from an FA perspective, particularly as clubs continue adapting to changing media landscapes and audience habits. Richard Neal at Wembley. Photo by James Costello. From grassroots football to Wembley The programme concluded with an event at Wembley Stadium involving students and clubs from across the country. The Wembley event also gave students opportunities to network with clubs, programme organisers and football industry representatives from across the country. For many involved, the experience reinforced how volunteering opportunities within grassroots football can lead to wider pathways within sport and media careers. Sport England estimates that 10.5 million adults volunteered in sport and physical activity across England last year, although volunteering levels remain below pre-pandemic figures. Sport England research has also estimated volunteering within sport contributes billions of pounds in social value across England. While Wembley represented the conclusion of the programme, placements at clubs such as Avro FC reinforced the continuing importance of volunteers within grassroots football. As the programme continues to expand, grassroots football clubs are increasingly turning to students not only to support matchdays, but to help shape the future of football media. FA Trophy Final, 18th May 2026. Photo by James Costello.

I like the Super Mario Galaxy Movie. Ok, ok, before everyone comes at me with their pitchforks, let me explain myself. No, I don't think it is a perfect adaptation of my favourite video game of all time. I understand most of the criticism surrounding the film, and I honestly agree with most of what has been said. The pacing is relentless, the emotional moments barely have time to land, and much of the quiet melancholy that made the original so special and beloved feels completely absent. Despite all of that, there was still something magical about seeing this world brought to life on the big screen. Hearing themes I have spent nearly 20 years listening to, seeing Rosalina and the Comet Observatory in full cinematic detail, the Lumas making their trademark sound effects, and one swearing and all, awakened something in me that immediately took me back to the feelings I got playing this game for the first time at 5 years old. What surprises me, however, is that there is one aspect of the film I rarely see discussed properly, despite it being one of the most important parts of both the game and the movie, even if they look completely different. Gateway Galaxy. The Movie's Gateway Galaxy is an Airport in Space Ironically, the movie doesn't ignore the Gateway Galaxy at all, unlike other galaxies that got snubbed. In fact, it practically revolves around it. It's the place where we see Fox McCloud for the first time, R.O.B, Mario fumbling Peach, and it's where Daisy appears in the post-credits. The galaxy serves as the central hub for characters travelling the 'Galaxies', feeling like an airport in space, with multiple spaceships at the Flight Deck, including Samus' Gunship and the Arwing. There’s a whole sewage system that somehow takes you to a Super Mario Bros 2. Themed casino with Odyssey’s Jump Up Superstar playing. There is a lot going on in the movie’s version of Gateway Galaxy, and this is all in the main area of the Galaxy. We don’t even explore the other 90% that the Galaxy has to offer. We see on the main promotional material that it could be a place of residence for some people, or maybe a playground. For what it is, it’s a terminal at an airport. I’m just surprised there was no overpriced JD Sports or a Conkdor holding a Starbucks, or a Pianta having an airport pint. I wonder what pint they would choose, I mean, from Isle Delfino, you would think a fruity cocktail, but who has an airport fruity cocktail? Anyway, that’s besides the point. I Hate the Movie's Version of Gateway Galaxy And to understand why, we have to compare it to the original and why I love that so much. Super Mario Galaxy's Opening Still Feels Unmatched The opening to Super Mario Galaxy is something previously never seen in a Mario game before at that time, cutscenes one after the other showcasing the bombastic-ness of the star festival, quickly turning into a hijack from Bowser and his airships, having a UFO help take the castle and raise the whole thing out into space. Mario clings on for dear life before Kamek and his PlayStation buttons destroy the half-detached land he’s on and flings him into the depths of space. It’s the most ambitious and alive opening I’ve ever experienced in a Mario game. It sets the intentions off straight away about the scale and scope, with the music in full force, some we hear in the movie too, it tells you this ain’t your ordinary Princess rescuing. We’re in space now. And then…the game just…stops. The Quiet Sadness of Gateway Galaxy People go on and on about the quiet sadness of Mario Galaxy, and no place does it better than the Gateway Galaxy. A small planetoid with merely much to do apart from a few meteors, a warp pipe and small patches of grass. The sense of thrill, excitement, adrenaline from the opening goes away in an instant, and you are left feeling feelings of quietness, loneliness, like you’re not meant to be here. It’s empty, not eerily, it's comforting though. You have these three bunnies keeping you company. Mario doesn’t know where he is or what these bunnies are, but they offer comfort after he’s been nearly killed trying to save Peach. The one word I use to describe Gateway Galaxy is safe. No enemies, no sound effects, no sense of urgency, no nothing. You can chill there and play hide-and-seek for as long as you like. There is something so soothing about experiencing the spectacle of the opening for it to come crashing down to an emotional standpoint. There’s a feeling of loss, but discovery. Calmness, but Peach has been kidnapped, you’ve got to get moving. The music tells you, no, you don’t have to right away. It’s like recovering after having an accident or an illness. Recovery starts slow, you can’t jump back into action right away, you’ve got to let that breath and settle. And that’s what the game does so well. You’re in space as Super Mario for crying out loud, it’s meant to take you by surprise. It eases you into the space gimmick so well, a playground as such for the gravity mechanics, running around the small planetoid, doing nothing but chase around the lumas as bunnies. The Movie Loses the Wonder of Space And that’s where the movie goes wrong. It loses that appeal of wonder, quietness, and mystery. Sure, I enjoyed the vibe of it, and FOX MCLOUD, but I would have rather they turned Sunshine Airport into a Galaxy, as opposed to stripping Gateway from its core identity. Going from one of the most quaint, peaceful, serene locations in the entire Mario franchise to the hustle and bustle of references overload was a slap in the face to me. It’s not just that, the movie also loses the appeal of space as a large vacuum of nothingness. No quiet reflections, apart from maybe Mario and Luigi talking on the Mandibug, it lost that sense of quietness, loneliness and emptiness that made the original game and Gateway Galaxy so special to me. The movie doesn’t slow down, when the game it’s based on does it within the first 5 minutes. I would have loved it if Mario and Luigi had a one-on-one moment, maybe later in the movie, on a galaxy akin to Gateway, with this music playing. Maybe similar to Sonic and Shadow on the moon in Sonic 3. It doesn’t have to be much, just a reflection to show these characters are real. That they doubt themselves, maybe have Peach have this when she’s realising how hard it is to find Rosalina. GIVE THEM EMOTIONAL PAYOFFS. We don’t see that in the film at all, not for Peach, or for Mario, or for Bowser or for anyone. The movie doesn’t slow down enough for any emotion to land. I didn’t mind this in the first movie, but you cannot have the same approach for the SUPER MARIO GALAXY MOVIE. You know, the one that’s core theme is about creating emotion through space, through its music, through the storybook. Stillness Creates Attachment The only emotions I got from watching Mario Galaxy were happiness and disappointment. Nothing else. I didn’t have the time to think of anything else, to feel anything else. Stillness creates attachment. When you spend time in a quiet space, you start projecting emotions onto it. You remember how it made you feel. I remember when I first passed my driving test and got into the car for the first time. I drove to the beach, just because I wanted to feel something. More importantly, Gateway Galaxy serves as the meeting point for Rosalina. She’s introduced in the best way possible. No big music or cutscene, just melancholic and sombre, like who she is at heart. The emptiness of the area makes Rosalina feel mysterious, but she’s not scary or intimidating. She’s a comforting figure, someone you need in a time of mystery. The emotional connection you form with her from the off sticks with you and matters so much later when the game starts revealing more about her through the storybook. There is nothing I feel about the character of Rosalina in the film. She’s a plot device who is kidnapped solely because one of her Lumas snuck out of the library. There is nothing about her character that evokes the same feelings we had in the game, which is such a shame for a talent and fan of Brie Larson to feel like she didn’t contribute anything meaningful to the plot. Why Gateway Galaxy Matters The movie’s modernised Gateway Galaxy will be remembered for its references, for its lively nature, and for being the temporary residence of Fox McCloud, which still feels surreal saying that as a Star Fox junkie. But emotionally, it’s empty. The original Gateway is memorable FOR how empty it is. The identity of the original has been totally lost in the new updated version, and for what its worth, I like the scenes it’s there. It just shouldn’t have been adapted this way, left for some other place else. It no longer understands what made the original so cherished and beloved in the first place. It’s the smallest Galaxy in both games, but it has such a strong impact on me that it remains one of my favourites. The new one isn’t the Gateway Galaxy I remember, but that’s ok, because I don’t think it was meant to be. This place means something to me and so many others emotionally, and so what if the adaptation doesn’t understand why? Because I know I can always come back to the place whenever I want.