During our most recent episode (#184), we discussed some of the best and worst EGM covers. This was the image that a couple of us were using for reference during that talk.

Well, it’s not the exact image. Some time ago, someone compiled the original image and posted it online, but it only contained covers for the issues up to #232 (the Soulcalibur IV issue). I took it upon myself to edit the image to include the remainder of EGM’s original run as well as the “lost” issue and the two different covers for the reborn EGM.

The gimpy Street Fighter III cover that I mentioned can be seen on the fourth row down, eight over from the right. Just to the right of the Twisted Metal cover (click on the image for a proper view).

On July 26, 2009, Andy Baran, former EGM/EGM2/Expert Gamer editor passed away from pancreatic cancer. He was 35 years old. This episode of the podcast is filled with stories about working with and knowing Andy from CJ, Phil and Greg, as well as voicemails from other past colleagues. Thanks again to all who helped contribute to this episode: Terry Minnich, Ken Williams, Dan Hsu, Kraig Kujawa, Dan Leahy, Mark Hain, Jennifer Whitesides Gavigan, Crispin Boyer, Chris Baker, David Siller, Jeanne Kim Trais, James Mielke, Joe Funk, Mike Vallas and Tracy Baran.

Running time: 1:44:35

Andy Baran’s 1UP blog
Bitmob: RIP EGM’s Andy Baran
VGEvo: R.I.P. Andy Baran of EGM
The Early Days of EGM Part 1
The Early Days of EGM Part 2
Kotaku: EGM Writer Passes Away
Bitmob: In Memory of Andy Baran
“Double Dragon” by The Minibosses

Direct download: 08_03_09-Episode145.mp3

[Note: This is a continuation of the story that starts in this post. You may want to read that before going on.]

I don’t know if you’ve ever had to go into your boss and say, “hi, I’m overworked, can I get a little help here?” but when you’re 17 years old and the guy at the top is a lot older than you and already doesn’t like you, it can be a harrowing experience. I’d already been on Ed’s shit list. In one issue of EGM2 I’d used black and white photos of a little Sega PDA/toy device because it was the only assets of it available at the time. I’d written the article, dropped in the pictures and everything was cool–the issue was signed off and went to the printers. But when it came back, I got yelled at for using black-and-white anything in the magazine–even though he (Ed) had supposedly signed-off on those very same pages just a week or two earlier. Surely this was something he saw and could’ve brought up then? Getting yelled at by Ed was the worst part of the EGM job. He had this way of making you feel like you’d committed an unbelievable atrocity for which there was no forgiveness. Something inhuman, immoral, and that your own mother would disown you for. Ask anyone who’s worked for him and you’ll hear similar tales.

But I thought that this meeting would go differently. It had to. After all, Ed had a son/stepson in high school himself and would surely understand. And when you think about it, I was getting paid hourly at that point and didn’t have Sendai’s health insurance benefits or anything, so–what was the harm? Less hours means they wouldn’t have to pay me as much. It’s win-win…right? So I went in, asked if I could have a moment of his time, and began talking. I explained that I was 17, and that since I was going to school full-time, maybe I could cut down on some of the amount of work I’d been assigned (3 sections, 2 magazines, plus special features, deadlines every 2 weeks). By that time I had also been recruited to help Todd Mowatt with a lot of his work as well, so I felt I had a justifiable reason to beg for leniency. If I could offload one section or not need to be Mowatt’s monkeyboy then everything would be fine. Just a little mercy. Please?

EGM2 Issue #2

I could tell just by the expression on his face that my argument was not falling upon receptive ears. But I didn’t know how extreme the backlash would be. It came swift: “Are you telling me that you can’t do your job?” No–that wasn’t what I was saying at all. I can still do my job, just…I’d like to do a little less of it for a while so I could…oh, I dunno…finish high school? “What I’m hearing is that you don’t want to do your job.” At that point the “I can’t believe what I’m hearing’s” began. While my memory’s blurry on some of this, I remember that he insinuated that I was bringing down the magazine and they couldn’t have someone that didn’t pull their weight, and at one point stormed off to get Sendai’s legal counsel guy so I could apparently announce that I was not able to perform my job to someone else. It was not going well. When he couldn’t find that guy, he stormed back in and told me to say that I didn’t want to do my job into a tape recorder. (Probably so he could listen to it in his car and laugh maniacally–or maybe I’m just imagining that.) I refused. After a little more arguing and apologizing on my part, it was made clear that I would do my job and maybe get one small project that I’d been doing for Mowatt taken off of my shoulders.

When I left the office that evening I’d more or less decided that I didn’t want to work at EGM anymore. The pay was good and I loved games and my friends were jealous, but the hours and the people (except for a small few) just sucked beyond all imaginable bounds of suckitude. I’d spent three-plus months there and had only recently received a shitty Mac to do work on at my ramshackle desk and the people I worked with were a-holes. Why would I want to spend any more time there? I talked it over with my parents and made up my mind.

I decided that instead of telling Ed I was leaving and open up another can of worms, that I’d go straight to the top and tell Steve first. I figured–he’d hired me, if I’m going to leave I should break it to him my own way (especially so he didn’t hear any stories of how I “can’t do my job, blah-blah-blah”). So I dropped by his office, handed him a letter that I’d typed saying I was quitting–effective immediately. I stuck around and talked to him for a bit about a few of the reasons why. He understood. He was sorry to see me go. But he also left it open so that if I wanted to come back anytime, I could. And that part cheered me up a bit. Maybe I could come back sometime and do some other work for Sendai that didn’t involve working with Ed. That’d be nice.

Since I didn’t leave any real personal belongings at the office anyway, all I had to do was pick up my backpack and go. I had quit EGM.

TO BE CONTINUED…

[Note: This too is a repost of an entry I did for my personal blog some years ago. One of the things I enjoyed working on the most during the time I was at EGM was the April Fools jokes. I grew up reading EGM and fondly remember things like the Simon Belmont in TMNT2: The Arcade Game for NES or Sheng Long in Street Fighter II. I'm happy to say that I was behind such memorable April Foolin's as the warehouse of Sega Neptunes, Sonic & Tails in Super Smash Bros. Melee and the Dead or Alive Beach Volleyball nude trick. But anyway, this blog entry is not about those -- it's about the one April Fool's joke that wasn't. Enjoy.]

Originally posted June 28, 2004 — I must confess that I don’t know all the details of the story I’m about to tell you about here. I wasn’t working at EGM at the time this happened. But I did catch wind of the aftermath. So I’ll tell you what I know here, and if someone else knows the rest, they can e-mail me and I’ll gladly add it (anonymously, if they’d like). Anyway, on with it:

If you’ve read EGM for any length of time you know that every April issue brings with it an April Fool’s joke. That’s just how it is. EGM…April issue…there’s a joke. But not in April 1994.

And I can almost understand it. When you’re working on a magazine, after a while the deadlines kind of mush together. Sometimes you’re usually not even cognizant of what month it is (what, it’s December already?). You’re especially not thinking of something as small and insignificant as April Fool’s Day. I mean, it’s not even a postal holiday. And in 1994 when the staff was working on the April issue, everyone forgot what month it was and that there was supposed to be a joke in there. Even the editor in chief, Ed Semrad — the guy who had been there for years and you would think would remember ‘cuz it’s tradition — forgot.

I’d like to imagine the staff was completely oblivious to it until they opened snail mail letters with people guessing what the April Fool’s joke was. “You almost had me there — those Babalities in Mortal Kombat II have got to be fake,” “Handheld Genesis? What kind of an idiot do you take me for!” or even “I believe that ad in your magazine is a joke. No company would ever call their game ‘Plok.’”

But what I do know is that upon the discovery of this royal f-up, Ed called everyone into a big meeting where he proceeded to yell at the staff for a long time. Tears were shed (by him, if I remember the story correctly), people were blamed, fingers…pointed. Evil eyes…given. It was a bad scene. But what’s done was done.

Now…the best joke would’ve been to admit that there wasn’t one; that readers had spent time looking for a joke that wasn’t there. Now that would’ve been funny. Instead, it was damage control time. A decoy was acquired — a typo on the April cover. While EGM of that vintage was often a hotbed of typos and grammatical errors on the inside, this time one had broken free and somehow worked its way onto the magazine’s front. Thank god for that li’l cock-up, eh? Thus, “STREEETS OF RAGE 3″ (with an extra “E,” ‘case you missed it) became the “joke.” In the next issue they passed it off as such, proudly pointing out the typo as if it was deliberate. A brilliant gag, huh?

If you have the May 2004 issue of EGM handy (#178, MGS3 cover), flip to page 57 and you’ll see the first public acknowledgment that this “joke” was actually just a mistake and a close-up picture of the typo. But that piece doesn’t go into too much detail. It’s such a funny story that it was one I’d tell any new staff member come April Foolin’ time.

TO BE CONTINUED….

—–

There’s more talk of EGM April Fools jokes at this Wikipedia page (btw anyone remember what the 1996 joke was? Did they forget that year too? It’s not listed here).

And when I was a guest on EGM Live (the 3/26/07 episode) we talked about April Fools jokes a bit.

[NOTE: This is a repost of a blog entry from my old personal blog.]

Originally posted June 26, 2004 — Now’s a good time to take a moment and talk about one of EGM’s mainstay characters — Sushi-X. While other people can probably tell this story better than I can from the beginning, I’ll take a stab at explaining some of what I know about this mysteriously pseudonymed character.

The way I figure it (and I’m guessing here, since he appeared in EGM before my time), the Sushi-X persona was inspired by Famitsu’s Taco-X, a reviewer often dressed as a ninja. Since EGM’s Review Crew style is a direct rip-off from Japanese gaming magazine Famitsu’s review style, this hypothesis of mine probably isn’t too far from the truth. The Sushi-X that most EGM fans know and love was the one that was a master of fighting games, hated Game Boy titles just because he could, and was often the “swing reviewer” who would pan something the other guys liked. The guy who played Sushi-X for the longest amount of time was Ken Williams. (Ken now helps run video game site vgevo.com with Trickman Terry.) Ken had been Sushi-X for a good long time before I started in 1994. And his personality was exactly that of the Sushi-X in the magazine — he loved fighting games and had a passionate disdain for anything Game Boy or that involved turn-based role-playing. When a new fighting game would come into the office he’d spend hours on it — whether it was an upright machine or something that could be plugged into the office’s Super Gun. While I was working there, Super Street Fighter II Turbo arrived and the guy went nuts on it, practicing combos, refining his technique — it was insane to watch. I never considered myself very good at fighting games, but I did get schooled by Ken a couple times. And I mean…rocked. Some of his techniques and skills would show up in the magazine as strategy guides or in special fighting game guides that EGM would publish from time to time. EGM did print a picture of Ken at one time semi-hinting that he was Sushi-X. At one of the early ’90s Consumer Electronics Shows, the Sendai booth had a Street Fighter machine set up where people could challenge a staff member. I forget which issue it was, but there is a picture of that scene in the magazine. Of course, no one figured that the white guy with the EGM jacket playing against them was Sushi. Most thought Sushi was a Japanese guy, which had never been the case.

But at some point later (after I’d already left EGM the first time ’round), Ken Williams departed the magazine and started working on Sendai’s pre-Gamespot deal/Videogames.com web-project, a site called NUKE. He gave up his Sushi-X duties, and soon everyone else on staff was taking turns playing Sushi-X (much like I described the middle-days of Quartermann in the first entry of this blog). And that’s where things derailed as far as Sushi maintaining a consistent personality. Suddenly he liked a couple GB games and RPGs. He was still generally played as the harsher reviewer but it was definitely different.

When I came *back* to work on EGM part-time in 1996 (issue 88), the Review Crew had changed. It was now Dan “Shoe” Hsu, Shawn Smith, Crispin Boyer, and Sushi-X. Continuing to do Sushi at this point was like beating a dead horse, but we did it because readers were attached to the character. During this era, a guy named Scott Parus played the part of Sushi (although a different guy had dressed up in the ninja suit for pictures), but sometimes others would chime in too. Some of those Sushi reviews were written by other members of the Crew, who’d already written their own reviews of the same title as themselves, trying to reflect the Sushi-X persona (which would also give one an anonymous chance to rail on a particularly crap title).

Then an interesting thing happened. Ken Williams returned to EGM as Managing Editor in October of ’96. So suddenly, the old Sushi-X was back. (Nothing was said in the magazine about this though, since technically, Sushi-X had never left.) If you’re keeping track, that means that issues 89-104 have the original Sushi doing reviews again. Of course, when Ken left Ziff-Davis in March of ’98, the dead-horse beatings began anew.

As we were planning the drastic redesign of EGM that was scheduled to hit with issue 120 (July 1999), the entire staff made the decision to axe Sushi-X from the Review Crew for good. The concept of the character had long since worn out its welcome, and as a staff we wanted to move the magazine in a different, more mature, direction. One without pseudonym characters giving opinions. When that issue reached readers, they replied immediately with: “What happened to Sushi-X?” A fair question, and one we got several hundred times. After all, they’d gotten to know him over the course of many years (even if he was but a weak imitation of his former self by now). So he was brought back to answer questions in a Letters section sidebar called “Ask Sushi.” (Written by Che Chou.) But it didn’t last and a few months later the character slipped into the mists of time and disappeared.

That is…until another Ziff-Davis magazine, GameNOW, brought him back in early 2003. For those of you who missed checking out GameNOW when it was around, the thought was that EGM would be the games mag for the older crowd, and GameNOW (rising from the ashes of Expert Gamer/EGM2) would service the younger readers. So resurrecting the Sushi-X character in GN made perfect sense. This new Sushi was a bit different (and more hip with the street lingo) but he still loved a good fighting game and not much else. Sadly, GameNOW closed in late 2003, thus closing the book for good on Sushi-X’s tale.

But who knows, maybe this gaming legend will be back someday…

TO BE CONTINUED….

—-

Little post-script to this entry. A few months after I posted this I got an email from David Siller, one of the founding editors of EGM who later went into development and worked on Aero the Acro-Bat and Maximo: Ghosts to Glory. Here’s the email:

Sushi-X was not originally Ken Williams…Sushi-X was created by David Siller and did those game reviews until issue 22. It ended there after he and Steve Harris had a major falling out. Siller also created Sam Mori and Terry Aki. It was also Siller’s idea to put the Famitsu style Review Crew into the magazine. Harris didn’t like the idea originally, but later relented. Sushi-X in name was indeed patterned after Taco-X which referred to [the Japanese word for octopus], not a Mexican taco. All of the early International Reviews and Japanese game news scoops were done by Siller as well after his travels to Japan. His writing style was and continues to be copied long after he stopped writing magazine articles combining wit with humor and style. Mr. Williams as well as others have written as Sushi-X. Mr. Siller also wrote on occasion the “Quartermann” gossip articles or contributed news bits to them. Steve Harris later granted David Siller the rights to use Sushi X in an actual video game, and that will come to reality in the near future.

I’ve no idea about the “rights” to Sushi-X, but there you have it.

Sega-16 has an interview with David Siller that talks a little bit about EGM and Sushi-X.

As a reader, I’m a James Mielke fan. When the guy is covering a game or a developer that he’s interested in, he generally does a fantastic job at it. He’s truly passionate about certain games, and it comes through wonderfully in his writing. I’ll even admit that he’s far better at covering the games he likes than I probably ever was, or ever will be. I also thought that the final issues of EGM – the ones under his direction – were fabulous. He managed to inject that kind of passion and enthusiasm throughout the entire magazine, even though he liked to pat himself on the back a bit too much in his editorials.

Even on a personal level, I like the guy. Whenever I would take trips out to our San Francisco office he was always friendly and helpful, fun to be around, and just an all-around good guy.

That’s probably why, when he chose to fellate himself for about 11,000 words on his weblog, it didn’t really bother me for the most part. I rolled my eyes at a lot of it, because despite some real accomplishments during his career, it’s hard not to see the whole thing as one massive ego stroke where his apparent greatness is more than a little exaggerated.

And that leads me to my third relationship with James Mielke – as a co-worker. As a co-worker, I had a real problem with the Milkman. And normally, I’d keep that kind of feeling to myself. But two paragraphs in his recent blog post misrepresented the then-crew of EGM so badly – a group of people I love and respect – that I feel like I need to defend them (and myself) publicly.

I’m going to quote the two paragraphs here in their entirety; just to be sure I’m not accused of taking anything out of context. I apologize for the length.

During my early years at EGM, it was interesting. I was, being the only EGM representative on the West Coast, always in meetings with PR people, who found it a relief that they didn’t have to fly out to Oakbrook to show EGM a game. I’d do the meeting, get the assets, write the preview. Of course, many people still did fly out to see the guys, but it wasn’t as mandatory any more. The magazine that really suffered at the time was Game Informer, since they were usually only visited if a PR person was already in the area to see EGM. It wasn’t easy to get to where they are based. This was, of course, back when their circ was only in the 115k range, before they got bought and became what they are now. But, I remember a couple of the guys I’d worked with thinking I was always freeloading, since I was usually AFK in a demo meeting, and not responding to AIM all day long. It actually became harder for me when Dan Hsu came back (he, who I voted for when we were asked to pick between him and Simon Cox to be the new EIC of EGM when John Davison left to be EIC for OPM) because the gripers suddenly had a sympathetic ear. “Milky’s just having free lunches,” and “Milky’s never around when you need him” were the common misconceptions of those who shall remain nameless, but John Davison put an end to that. He saw just how hard I was working, whether it was meeting with publishers for demos all day, or fulfilling various off-site TV appearances on CNN for the marketing department, or working overtime on Gamers.com V2 (which Ziff acquired for a bit after Gamespot was sold to CNET) with Sam Kennedy, or staying late to help freelancers and former Gamers.com alumni Christian Nutt and Shane Bettenhausen into the office. I usually had to show those guys where to store previews and screenshots that we’d taken onto the servers, which were abysmally slow, since the downloads we put on the server in San Francisco actually were routed to the East Coast, before being bounced back to Chicago. It literally often took something like a 2 meg zip file almost 3 or 4 hours to upload to EGM’s server.

But it was John Davison who –in the two weeks he spent in San Francisco a month– saw how much work I was doing — and getting no credit for. He set the record straight about my contribution, and shortly after the entire Ziff Davis Game Group were moved out to San Francisco. It didn’t get easier for me once they moved out, though. Sam and I were used to being the only console guys in the office, along with the CGW crew, who enjoyed our loud music and good natured ways. The EGM guys were used to much quieter working conditions, which I totally didn’t get, since we were in the entertainment business. People would holler at me to turn down my music, and they would play games with headphones on. I distinctly remember John Davison asking me to turn my music up. The EGM staff needed to loosen up, was his (and my) opinion. Games are using surround sound, or 5.1, live a little, guys. We’re lucky enough to work in the entertainment industry. I thought “How can we make a fun product if we’re not having fun?” Anyway, I didn’t mesh well with the suddenly-relocated formerly Chicago-based staff of EGM, and I often clashed with Shoe over random things. He’s a very detail-oriented, anal kind of guy, which is great, because EGM under his watch was an immaculately finessed publication. I, on the other hand, didn’t like some of his cover choices, the politics of which I won’t go into, but I probably could have handled things better myself too and been a little more discreet in my reactions to certain things. I chalk it up to being younger. But veterans like Jeff Green used to pull me aside and tell me “You’re the best thing they’ve got going for them, why is he giving you such a hard time?” With Jeff and John Davison in my corner, I always managed to get through the day, but the guy who would prove truly pivotal in my career at Ziff was perhaps my least-expected ally. Enter: Simon Cox.

Throughout the entire, 11,000 word history lesson, James tends to represent himself as some sort of misunderstood or undiscovered genius. And if that’s how people saw him (or how he saw himself), that’s fine by me. But this “early years at EGM” story paints the crew as some sort of lynch mob who would rather pick on him and tear him down than thank whatever god they prayed to that they were lucky enough to be in his presence. It’s a bit oversimplified, definitely one-sided, and absolutely unfair.

As early as the second sentence, it seems like James’ massive ego has altered his memory. James wasn’t the “only EGM representative on the west coast” at all. Within three months, Ryan Lockhart was out there as well, and after him Che Chou. The service of both, apparently, have been lost to the ravages of time, as James states that he and Sam Kennedy were still the only two console guys on the West Coast when us Midwesterners eventually showed up and ruined the party.

In fact, I’m going to go ahead and say that Sam Kennedy was originally hired as an EGM rep, as well, before John Davison moved to OPM and recruited him as that magazine’s newshound. At least, that’s how the hirings were explained to us at the time.

As for the “couple of guys who shall remain nameless” thinking James was freeloading, and who got a “sympathetic ear” in Dan Hsu…well, that just ain’t the case. What is true is that James wasn’t communicative at all. We would never know where he was, due to his apparently busy schedule and bad tendency to roll into the office sometime between noon and 2pm most days (something he was still doing during his GMR tenure, when I left), which translated to us not being able to reach him until around 4pm in Chicago.

I’m sure he was working hard, but his increasingly bad reputation was based on other problems – missed deadlines; simply disappearing during important times of the day and month; tantrums; “issues” with personal game requests from publishers; problems with west coast coworkers; reviewing games without telling us his name could also be found in the credits; the list goes on…
Yes, James definitely liked to do things his way, and sometimes that’s to his credit. But in an environment where everyone relies on everyone else to deliver, and deliver on time, or else everyone’s workload increases, he was a liability a lot of the time. And this was despite the great things he brought to the table, such as generally representing the magazine really well and assisting in some cover and exclusive preview deals.

But he did get credit for all of that good stuff, even if his fragile ego didn’t allow him to see it. Maybe it was the fact that everyone else on the magazine got the same amount of credit for putting together a kick-ass publication every month? I don’t really know.

The part of this blog that’s really upsetting, though, is the insinuation that the relocated EGM crew wouldn’t put up with his loud, obnoxious ways because they were somehow out of touch with the entertainment business – apparently too uptight to have fun while working in a fun industry.

Now, let’s have a little perspective here, before we swallow what James is shoveling during this part of his story. At the Chicago offices of EGM, we had pretty much daily game nights; we had the cone of violence; we flushed GBAs down the toilet in the name of research; we had pantsless NFL Blitz tournaments; we set up Big Mouth Billy Bass on top of urinals just to scare the shit out of whichever poor, unfortunate soul simply wanted to go pee; we chucked Frisbees at each other down dark corridors in the hope hitting our prey in the neck; we set Crispin belly down on a motorized skateboard and used him as a battering ram on a pile of whatever we could find around the office that night; we did untold amounts of property damage with our antics; we had regular scooter races around the cubicles until “the man” confiscated our wheels; I came in one day to find a plushy beaver wearing a maple leaf hat hanging from a VGA-cord noose above my cubicle; we blasted some of the most obscene songs we could find at 1 in the morning just to keep the mood light during deadlines; we watched Crispin paint a wall with soy sauce after succumbing one too many times to Jon Dudlak’s ridiculous skill with a sniper rifle in Halo; we all laughed when an overly-affectionate Jeanne Kim fan sent nude photos of himself to her attention. And so on.

Clearly, we’d lost our ability to have fun doing this work.

But we also respected each other. If we were under a particularly strained time crunch, and we knew some (or all) of us were working our asses off to make that deadline, or needed a bit of peace in order to get their job done properly, we understood that and acted accordingly.
James never seemed to get that. And things weren’t nearly as bad as he’s saying in his story. I only remember one time that he was “hollered at” to turn down his music, and it was during a particularly bad deadline (the Vice City issue, I believe – the first issue after the big move), and following a lengthy amount of time where all of us had put up with his loud music and game play without any complaint.

It bothers me that his complete disrespect for his coworkers at the time is somehow translated publicly to his coworkers being total squares who just didn’t recognize that he was trying to save us all from ourselves. I don’t know if he really feels that way, or if he’s simply representing the situation that way to make himself look better in the eyes of his readers while relaying his personal history. All I know is that, in my eyes, it required a bit of perspective from those of us who worked with him at the time.

[NOTE: This is a repost of an entry I originally wrote for my personal blog, which is horribly outdated and is not even worth going to anymore (oh god, the layout...it's like I was blogging in 1998 and using Lynx to browse the Internets). I'm going to move those entries over here piece-by-piece and at some point close down the other site. I'll probably post an entry from there every day or two. And this is the first of those! Enjoy!]

This is the first issue of EGM that I worked on (uncredited).

Originally posted June 24, 2004 — It was ten years ago this month that I was first hired at Sendai Publishing Group to work on Electronic Gaming Monthly.

When I was originally hired at Electronic Gaming Monthly (EGM) I had just turned 17, and it was the summer of 1994, between my junior and senior years of high school. I’d been doing a fanzine called Paradox for about three-four years before that and had sent copies of it to EGM in the hopes that one day, they’d give me a job. During the ‘zine days, I’d talked on and off with Sendai’s then-grand pooba Steve Harris about the magazine and the game industry — though really, I was a wide-eyed kid with a passion for games and mediocre writing ability that wanted a job. So when he offered me one, I was ecstatic. All that blood, sweat, and tears doing a ‘zine with some friends at my own expense had finally paid off. My starting “Associate Editor” salary was $16,000/year — not bad for a high-schooler still living with his parents.

I remember my first day, and my first assignment, vividly. At the time, EGM2 had just started up and both magazines had a single staff. Because it was the last day of a deadline, I was told that my first duty would be to help out with the Quartermann column for the premiere issue of EGM2. I thought, “great. I get to pow-wow with Q-Mann, talk rumors; this will be great.” But as a longtime EGM fan I was ill-prepared for what I found out a few seconds later: THERE WAS NO QUARTERMANN (dun dun dunnnnn!) There was in the beginning; one person wrote Q-Mann (and apparently got an awful lot of his information from the staff of a certain west coast game store that would later start its own magazine) every month for a couple years and that was that. But the “old” Q-Mann didn’t have time to do it anymore, so it was up to various members of the staff to pick up the reigns. And because I was the newbie, it was my turn to do it. I was given a sheet of paper with some minor (read: crap) rumors on it and was told to write Gaming Gossip as my first assignment. To me this whole thing came as a shocking revelation. Here it was, my first day working at the North Pole and I find out that there is no Santa Claus–or rather, that I am Santa Claus.

So during that first summer I worked at EGM, I did about 5-6 installments of Gaming Gossip across both EGM and EGM2. To differentiate the two columns I eventually had to come up with another pseudonym for the EGM2 version. That experience would later haunt me for years to come when I came up with a ridiculous pseudonym that everyone on EGM would soon constantly tease me about — “Secret Turtle.” But the name that made it into the final product was “X-BERT.” Yeah, both are pretty lame, huh? In addition I did the Interface: Letters to the Editor (letters), Press Start (news), helped with the arcade sections, and did other odd-jobs and special features. And because one staff did two magazines, deadlines were every two weeks.

While working at EGM was a dream for me at the time, there was a slight catch that made that first summer…well, a living hell. The catch was that Steve Harris had hired me without consulting EGM’s editor-in-chief Ed Semrad. Ed had wanted somebody else instead — Canadian games reporter Todd Mowatt. Yet, while Ed was on vacation Steve had gone and hired me. So I started at an incredible disadvantage — my boss’ boss had gone over my boss’ head and hired some 17 year-old kid that did some fanzine. Not good. And because of this, I suffered. For the first month I worked at EGM, I had no cubicle, no computer, no phone, no game systems, no TV, and nowhere to sit. And no one — least of all Ed — was in any hurry to get me these raw materials. Instead, I used another guy’s area while he was on vacation. When that guy came back, I would wait for people to go to lunch or until after 5 p.m. and get on their machines and work. And because this was a time before fileservers or the Internet, I had to borrow other people’s optical discs to be able to do anything and hope my stuff didn’t accidentally get corrupted (which happened to those discs all too often).

The other problem about being persona non grata with the boss was that no one else on EGM liked me much, either. I had a few friends — Mike Vallas, Tim Davis, “Trickman” Terry Minnich and John Gurka among them — but the rest of them didn’t like me, and took a certain pleasure in watching me suffer. Eventually I got a hand-me-down computer and a “desk” (an old door laid across two filing cabinets) so I could get some work done during the day. But I sat far away from the real “EGM area” and still had to borrow an optical drive so I could get any work done. And the computer I had couldn’t take game screenshots, nor did I have any game systems or a TV to play on so I had to use other people’s stuff for that still.

A few weeks later, Sendai expanded to take up a whole floor of the small office building in Lombard and EGM was scheduled to move to the other side of the building. I figured that this was going to change everything. I’d probably get a cubicle and sit with everyone else. Maybe I’d even get a real desk (GASP!). One day the entire EGM staff had a meeting and we all went over to the new area and Ed laid down a small map of the place which had it marked where everyone would sit…except me. Somehow, someway, they had forgotten a place for me. This honestly pissed me off. I’d been working there for a solid two months or more, and yet it was if I didn’t even work there. Todd Mowatt, who had eventually gotten hired to EGM after I was, had a place on this floorplan. I was the only one who didn’t. So when EGM moved to this new area, I was squeezed into a tiny walkway with just enough room for my table-on-two-filing-cabinets desk. And because I was nowhere near any electrical outlets, I had to use an extension cord that was plugged into someone else’s outlet. And they enjoyed flicking the switch, cutting the power to my computer every now and again.

By this time, it was August and a new school year had started. For a while, I’d go to high school during the day and then go into work at night. The problem soon became that even though I was technically working part-time now (and was paid via time card), I was still expected to do all the sections I’d worked on when I was salaried. For both magazines (remember–deadlines every two weeks.) Unless I quit high school (which I wasn’t gonna do) I had to somehow lighten my load. I could not keep working these crazy hours — school from 7:45 in the morning until 3:10, then EGM from 4-10:30 at night, every day plus working on weekends. So I went in to talk to Ed. I explained the situation and that I needed to have a few things taken off of my plate or at least given some help…

TO BE CONTINUED…

——

And some of the comments left to that original post…

Hey CJ,

In a comment to how you were percieved way back when- You were sort of set up as a bit of opposition to us old guys. Certain members of the staff made well and sure to show us what special treatment you were supposedly given. As a result, there was some animosity towards you. Over the duration of time, I realized how much a real gamer you really were. It was because of the office politics that I was shunted away from someone who I honestly could have considered a friend. Hell, we had so much in common- why not?

My real lesson learned during my years at Ziff was to avoid the politics. Unfortunately for me, I gained a stigma as someone who hated all of the new guys no matter what I did. You were always cool to me.

And we’ll always have Japan. You were a part of one of the most magical experiences of my life. That nugget of memory is something I’ll always carry with me.

Andy Baran | 07.17.04 – 9:12 pm

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You are an ungrateful SOB. Many people took you under their wings to give you experience and try and help you along.

The fact that you were given the opportunity to work at EGM would be enough for most people.

Your ungrateful attitude and biased recollection of the events that took place showcase your inability to be satisfied with anything.

You still have no college degree and you think you know everything.

I tried to teach you a few things to help you out with your work and with life, but it seems as though you haven’t learned anything!

Accept the fine art of being bitter!

Todd Mowatt | 07.31.05 – 3:52 am

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(This next comment is one I wrote to that last post…)

I’ll have to go back and read to where you’re finding the part about me being ungrateful. I am extremely grateful to people like Steve Harris, Joe Funk, John Davison, etc. They gave me real opportunities and I will always hold those people in high esteem.

CJ | 07.31.05 – 9:07 am

No game talk this week. Instead, we dedicate the whole episode to talking about EGM’s closure and the 1UP layoffs in the wake of Hearst/UGO’s purchase of 1UP.com. In addition to regular hosts Chris “CJ” Johnston (ex-EGM News Editor) and Phil Theobald (ex-EGM editor and former GameNow Reviews Editor), we welcome a couple more ex-Ziff guests to the program: Kevin Gifford (ex-1UP editor and gaming magazine expert/Magweasel), Greg Sewart (ex-EGM Previews and Reviews Editor), Greg Ford (EGM Managing Editor), and Andrew “Skip” Pfister (ex-EGMer, GMRer and 1UP.com Reviews Editor/Podcast Producer).

Thanks for listening! You can leave us a voicemail comment by calling 713-893-8069 or you can send a comment via MP3 to our email address, playeronepodcast@gmail.com. Don’t forget to join our forums if you haven’t already!

Running time: 1:54:27

This week’s links:
Andrew “Skip” Pfister on Twitter
Andrew “Skip” Pfister’s page on 1UP.com
Greg Ford’s page on 1UP.com
RebelFM
Eat-Sleep-Game.com (RebelFM folks)
Talking Orange (ex-1UP Show folks)
Magweasel
GSW: Opinion: Print Game Media – [Still] Not Dead, [Maybe] Getting Better
GSW: Game Mag Weaseling
Greg Sewart’s WordPress blog
Chris “CJ” Johnston’s Twitter
Phil Theobald’s page on 1UP.com
Joystiq: Future Publishing experiences increase in gaming mag sales
PaidContent.org – Ziff Davis Gets Out Of The Game
NeoGAF: Listing of 1UP/EGM folks’ blogs and Twitters

Direct MP3 download: http://media.libsyn.com/media/playerone/01…-Episode116.mp3

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Show blog: http://www.playeronepodcast.com