Last year, I worked my first E3. Rocking my own case of convention flu, I did a Walgreens supply run for a suffering colleague, helped someone else back to their hotel room after one too many, saw some amazing Final Fantasy VII Remake cosplay and, as I waited to play Monster Hunter: World – Iceborne, stood mere feet away from the wrestler Asuka. Drinks, meals, germs, and perhaps too much else were shared.
I’m still nostalgic about vicariously experiencing past E3s from afar as a bairn, of grainy stage demos both amazing and awkward in equal measure, and of a general failure to manage expectations. Before I acquired my professional immunity to hype, I dreamed of what could be possible on next-generation consoles in five years time, in ten years,…
