Opening Blades of Steel on that long-ago Christmas morning, I was taken aback. I didn't care for hockey, I wasn't into sports, and it seemed so random. The next game I opened was Taboo, in fact, leading me to believe that my Grandmother selected games by going to Toys R Us, slamming a martini, and then throwing a dart.
Blades of Steel wasn't a hockey game as much as it was a theater of everything awesome about the NES. It was a cart that said its name when you turned it on. "Blades... of STEEL!" It didn't take crap from anyone. In a time before the difference between the arcade and simulation wasn't as important, Blades of Steel fell into a new category: badass.
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