Kicking Tricky Kick Is the Trickiest Thing About It

Tricky Kick is not a new game. Tricky Kick is not a notable game. And yet Tricky Kick is the only game I’ve played in almost a week, spending a few hours on it every night after dinner, after watching a movie, after going to an Atlanta United game. Tricky Kick has become my regular companion, the nightcap I leisurely enjoy at the end of every day, and a reminder of why I’m doing this job in the first place.
Tricky Kick is an obscure Turbografx-16 puzzle game from 1990.
I fell back into Tricky Kick honestly. One night I got drunk and wanted to play Devil’s Crush. Nobody who’s ever played Devil’s Crush or tasted bourbon and Red Rock Ginger Ale would fault me for any part of that sentence. Despite my endless appetite for Satanic video pinball, I eventually felt the need to move on to something else. And since the Turbografx-16 was already plugged into my TV (a 4K deal, and let me tell you, you can see every K when you’re playing Turbografx on it), I grabbed a handful of games off one of the three stacks of Turbografx titles on my bookshelf. Between the shooters and platformers and whatever the hell J.J. and Jeff is sat a copy of Tricky Kick, a game that I hadn’t played in several years, and a game that I may now never escape.
If you haven’t played Tricky Kick before, which is probably true of 99.9% of the people who have ever read an article at Paste, it’s a fairly simple sliding block puzzler with a few structural elements that make it unique. Every single-screen puzzle is littered with blocks that resemble various animals and characters. When I kick one of those blocks it slides across the screen until it hits the wall or another block that’s in its way; if it hits another block of the same pattern, both disappear. The puzzle is solved when all the blocks are gone; a five-minute time limit presents a hard stopping point, and a reset button ends a game but immediately restarts at the beginning of the same puzzle. There are only two other mechanics eventually introduced into the puzzles: a four-sided spring block that sends any block that’s kicked into it ricocheting backwards, and arrows on the ground that force any block that touch them to slide in that direction. Other than that the rules established in the very first puzzle are pretty much all I had to worry about throughout the 60 puzzles in the game.
Those 60 puzzles aren’t a straight line. They’re split up in groups of 10 that each feature a different protagonist and a unique setting. The six characters have their own intro and final cutscenes which bookend their 10 puzzles with the barest framework of a story. In one an elf is trying to rescue a fairy, in another an Ultraman-style hero is fighting off massive monsters invading the city. They’re clichés and stereotypes with barebones storylines that are mostly just a pretext for whatever kind of background art was chosen for each track of puzzles. When I’m stumped on a puzzle for one character, I’ll jump to the next one on the list, solving their puzzles until I’m stumped again and then moving on to the next.
Yes, I just spent 318 words describing an unknown 1990 Turbografx puzzle game. Yes, it’s still 2019.