Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round for a nostalgic trip to the days when baseball video games were more about pixelated jocks than sleek graphics and realistic physics. Welcome to "Bottom of the 9th '99", where your batting average may rival how many puns I can pack into this review! Spoiler alert: It's a lot!
Imagine it’s the bottom of the ninth, your team is behind, and you’re facing the prospect of tackling this 1998 gem for PlayStation. You have the choice of six playing modes – which sounds like an overreach considering the complexity of leaning back in your couch to mash buttons. A bit of good news: the game has an impressive roster (for its time) with around 700 players. That’s enough to form a baseball squad or fill a small country! Unfortunately, the actual experience comes across like an awkward first date—lots of flailing about but no real connection. The batting mechanics are reminiscent of trying to hit a piñata… blindfolded… while riding a unicycle. Expect a healthy mix of joy and despair as you wrestle with controls that feel like they’re in an eternal struggle to exist.
If you’ve ever wondered what a baseball game would look like through time-warped 1990s spectacles, look no further! The graphics might make your eyes hurt more than an actual home run to the forehead. Players have the same charm as those weird dolls you find in thrift stores—uniquely ugly but hard to look away from. You may think you’re watching a baseball game, but trust me, you’ll be questioning whether you invested in an avant-garde film about overly buff potato sacks playing catch.
In conclusion, "Bottom of the 9th '99" is like that friend who always shows up to the game clad in last year’s jersey: it has potential, desire, and an enthusiastic spirit, but ultimately, there are better options available. While it’s perfect for those days when you can’t decide between cleaning your room or playing a sports game that feels like a chore, there’s a reason modern athletes look better: they've been through boot camp… this game simply went through a Simon Says session. If you aim for nostalgia with the added risk of frustration, give this one a swing. Otherwise, you’re better off not stepping to the plate.