Editor's note: Gabriel waxes nostalgic about the Street Fighter series and its influence on his life. I can't believe that Street Fighter 2 is nearly 20 years old now! -Brett

Both players are down to the end of their energy bars. One more hit and they're down, so they're both being cagey. They're hanging back at opposite ends of the screen, waiting for the other guy to make the first move. Leo takes the initiative. He sends off a fireball to force Theo into blocking, then jumps in with a flying kick to knock Blanka's green head off. But as he's moving through the air he hears a soft tapping.... This is the split second before game over."  -Alex Garland, The Beach

Over the last 30 years, I have played thousands of video games. Shooters, fighters, role-playing games, sports games, puzzle games: there isn't a genre I haven't tried and enjoyed. From the highs of Fallout, River Raid, Ninja Gaiden, and Ikari Warriors to the lows of Time Killers, Wet, and E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, games have entertained me, scored me dates, and in one particular instance gotten me arrested. But no one series has stayed with me as long or had as much of an impact on my life as Street Fighter.

I remember the first time I encountered a Street Fighter 2 cabinet. The year was 1991, and I was in the midst of yet another family reunion in Panama City Beach, Florida. As a misanthropic, cynical, and depressed 15-year-old (is there any other kind?), I seized the first opportunity to get away from wholesome extended family bonding and play some games.

The nearest condo with a decent game room was a bit of a hike, but it was worth it. Once I arrived, I noticed a small crowd of kids around one particular machine. Along the bottom edge of the screen rested a row of quarters, something I had never seen before. On the screen itself, a muscular man in a white gi was throwing blue balls of energy at what looked like Frank Frazetta's interpretation of Sonic the Hedgehog.

After waiting for my turn, I dropped in my quarter and chose the soldier with the high-top fade. I was beaten mercilessly in a matter of seconds. I dropped back and watched the kid who had beaten me, noticing the combinations of button presses and movements he made. My second time around I managed to eke out a victory by the skin of my teeth.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Fighting games existed before Street Fighter 2. Games like Karate Champ, Karateka, and the original Street Fighter had paved the way, but it wasn't until Street Fighter 2 that the genre was officially established. With cutting-edge graphics, a variety of different characters, and an innovative control scheme, Street Fighter 2 redefined what made a great arcade game. It also spawned a wave of imitators, some worthy (Samurai Showdown, The Last Blade) and some not (Killer Instinct, Pit Fighter, Mortal Kombat).

But I reserved my affection for Street Fighter 2. When I got my first car, its primary mission was to drive me to the mall in the next town over to play it at the arcade. In those days fighting games were a social experience. You went wherever the arcade cabinets were located. Over the course of a couple of years, the people I played the game with at the local arcades ended up being my core group of friends.

In college, Street Fighter helped me forge other relationships. At a late-night radio shift, I met a group of DJs who invited me back to their apartment to play Street Fighter 2 on the Super Nintendo. I started out by throwing a jab sonic boom as Guile and following it into the opponent for a suplex. At that point, one of the guys said, "I think we're going to be friends." Everyone in that apartment back in 1993 attended my wedding five months ago.

I ended up in Taiwan in 1997. The age of the Japanese-style sit-down arcades was in full swing there at the time. At those arcades, I had my first experience playing with incredibly hardcore players. My American friends and I were good, but these guys were obscene. They humored me and practiced their English, and they became my new group of friends.  

Unfortunately, that marked the end of the golden age of fighting games. I returned to an America nearly devoid of arcades. The advent of more powerful home consoles reduced the allure of arcades. Why drive to an arcade when you can play the same game at your house? Occasionally you would see a lonely Street Fighter 3 cabinet surrounded by the giant crane machines at Dave and Buster's, but that was the exception, not the rule.

With the death of arcades, Street Fighter seemed to die as well. I bought versions of it for every console I owned, but they were usually just collections of older games. Gamers demanded more as three dimensional games like Virtua Fighter, Tekken, and Soul Calibur came into vogue.

It seemed that the halcyon days of two dimensional fighters were over. Then, in 2007, Capcom surprised everyone by announcing Street Fighter 4. The faithful met the ensuing game with baited breath. Would it hold up to previous Street Fighters? Would the basic controls remain the same? Would the series be as glorious as we all remembered? Thankfully, for most of us the answer to all of those questions was yes.

I still missed the social aspect of the game. Being able to pick up and play any time with people around the world is a wonderful thing.  But being around a group of people and playing was an altogether different experience. There was a sense of community and respect that seems to be lost in the anonymity online.  (At the very least you could smack the guy beside you if he was being an ass)

On April 27, Super Street Fighter 4 comes out, almost 19 years to the day since I first played Street Fighter 2 in that Panama City Beach condo complex. I'm quite sure that after I pick it up, I'll be fireballing and chain comboing long into the night. There are many series that I've enjoyed over the years, but none that have stayed with me like Street Fighter.

Here's to another 19 years, Capcom. Well done.