When it comes to Konami's Ganbare Goemon, I'm a huge fan. I'm probably one of the biggest
Goemon fans in the world, really—and if you know me, you know that's not hyperbole.
I've done my fair share of videos talking about its various Japan-exclusive entries,
and am an avid collector of all things Goemon. I have a complete set of the 30+ games in
the series, and while Ganbare Goemon was never slapped onto as much licensed merch as a Mario
or a Dragon Quest Slime, there are still many cool collectibles for the series, big and
small. There are even a few Goemon titles that were never made available at retail,
one of which I actually own—and no, I'm not talking about the infamous pachislot machines.
Rather, it's something little more obscure and with a bit more history—the Ganbare
Goemon medal game from 1997. Now, before we get into the details of this
particular medal game, I think it's best to briefly go over what a “medal game” actually
is first. At Japanese arcades, of course you'll find the fighting, shooting, rhythm games,
etc., that you'd expect, in addition to those vapid purikura photo booths that have infected
the game center scene like a disease, but often times there will be a section dedicated
to pachinko, slots, and other gambling machines, and its here where you'll most likely find
classic medal games as well. They're redemption style games that come in many different flavors,
but the most common and well-known one is the “pusher” type, where the player drops
coins onto a raised platform in hopes that a mechanical broom will push more coins down
further and ultimately over a ledge at the bottom, thus earning more coins and maybe
even triggering some kind of bonus mode. Outside of Japan, you'll typically see these pusher
machines at fairs or arcades that cater to children. The currency used in a vast majority
of medal games isn't hard cash, but rather metal tokens called, you guessed it, “medals,”
which can be obtained by exchanging real money for them at a machine. Although they simulate
gambling, unlike pachinko, which exploits a loophole in Japan's gambling laws to offer
real cash rewards, there are no monetary gains to be had from playing medal games. In fact,
a majority of arcades these days don't even offer up any real prizes at all for all the
medals you earn, and instead the only thing you can win is more medals, which can be counted
and recorded on a slip of paper so you can play with them again at the establishment
sometime in the future. So when you think about it, it's kind of the real world equivalent
of an awful, casual mobile game...just there to pass the time, time that you'll never get
back and certainly regret wasting so frivolously.
Video game-themed medal games were abundant throughout the 80s and 90s, not just because
of their appeal to children, a big demographic of medal game players, but also because it
was generally video game companies who manufactured the machines, so it was easy to use their
own established properties to ensure business was good. Ooh, Adventure of Valkyrie, that's
a great game as I'm sure you already know. Something you definitely know is that Goemon
and friends would also find themselves plastered onto a medal game over a decade before the
much maligned Konami Pachinko Years™. Simply titled Ganbare Goemon, this isn't a pusher
style medal game, but something that resembles a simple arcade title featuring an even simpler
one-button gameplay setup, accompanied by the great 2D art style and sounds fans of
the series would have been accustomed to in the mid-90s. In arcade game tradition, the
instructions are presented in-game as it waits for players to insert their coins, but are
naturally found on the arcade marquee as well. Pressing the big red button found on the front
of the machine will cause Goemon to throw his koban coin forward, aiming to hit a target
in order for the user to gain medals. The targets consist of classic Ganbare Goemon
power up items as well as Seppukumaru's henchmen from Ganbare Goemon 4 on the Super Famicom.
Yae, Sasuke, Ebisumaru and the Wiseman also appear in the game, but striking any of them
results in a game over. Goemon will use a trampoline to leap high into the sky to reach
his targets, and each friend, enemy and item is found on a different level of a castle
roof. Numbers between 1 and 20 are displayed beside each target, and scoring a successful
hit means you earn the amount of coins equal to that number. It can be difficult to gauge
exactly what constitutes a hit or not, but basically, try for the center of a target,
and the greater the number on the target, the smaller the hit box. I've tried many times,
but my aim has never been true when going for the senryobako and its 20 medal reward.
You can insert up to three medals at a time to increase the size of Goemon's koban coin,
which acts as a multiplier. Anyway, here's the game in raw action...
Ahem, let's try that again...
That's more like it, give me them sweet medals.
There's really not much more to say about the game itself...it was designed as a fun
diversion for Goemon fans to potentially experience some cheap thrills and win some medals...but
more often than not lose time as well as money. But anyway, let's take a look at the outside
and inside of the machine itself for a minute—as you can see, its a little bulky, standing
at about 1 meter, or a little over three feet, and because it uses a CRT display, it's pretty
heavy...thankfully, it comes on wheels that make it easy to move around. As you probably
noticed earlier, the screen is unfortunately plagued with CRT burn in, and a faint ghost
image of Ebisumaru explaining the game rules can be seen whether the set is turned on or
off. There's a lot of wear, tear and fading on some of the stickers, but the serial number
is still intact and looks fine. Overall, while its apparent that this unit saw a lot of action
when it was in its prime, it's still in pretty great shape considering all the kicks, punches,
and general abuse it must have received from pint-sized, unsupervised brats throwing temper
tantrums over the years. I have a set of keys for this medal game, thankfully, so we can
take a look at its guts as well...ah, now isn't that lovely. Here on the other side
of the door is all the mechanical wizardry responsible for moving medals and activating
credits—up to 600 coins in the hopper and 1600 in the overflow tank can be stored at
any given time. There are some wooden compartments that I assume were designed to hold some tools
or extra medals, and in the very back of the interior is where the computer board is mounted.
It's kind of neat to see the ludicrous amount of wires that connect to the display, speaker
and other mechanisms. The lower section is home to the master power switch, money counters,
and three buttons—pushing the top one will add one credit to the game, handy for those
times a player had to call over an arcade employee when the machine ate their medals
or the game glitched out. Holding down the lower button disperses coins, and the middle
cycles through various screens that allow the user to run tests, tweak game settings,
run sound checks, and most interesting of all, view the various records related to the
game, including hit ratios for targets, payout rates, and just how many medals have made
their way to the unit. Damn, this particular machine made Konami quite the amount of green
over the years. An operator's manual was included that contains all the standard instructions
for setup and maintenance, but also shows the various components that make up the unit.
Well, that's a look at the Ganbare Goemon medal game from 1997. It may not mean much
to the average person, and might even seem like a waste of space to most, but for a Goemon
fan in love with the series and its history, this is an awesome thing to play and own.
Seeing it up close and in action is like taking a trip back to a better time for Goemon, right
when the series was arguably at the top of its game. If you're really lucky, you may
just be able to find one of these units still in operation at some old shopping mall out
in the Japanese country side, but barring a miracle like that, they're pretty hard to
find, especially in working order. However, once in a while one will pop up for sale on
sites like Yahoo Auctions, and usually for a pretty reasonable price. I managed to snag
this one for about $75, the only downside being that shipping was just a hair more expensive
than the machine itself. Anyway, I'm glad to have this in my collection, and to all
the Goemon fans out there, if you're ever around the Hapa Home, feel free to give it
a try—medals on the house, of course. But until that time comes, thanks for watching
Import Gaming FTW Chibisodes, and take care.