by 
Sonic is one of the most recognisable characters in popular entertainment, rivalled only by Mario and Mickey Mouse in terms of global fame.
It's odd, then, to be able to vividly recall a time before the character existed, and even odder to have witnessed first-hand his meteoric rise to superstardom.
Simply put, I was the target market for Sonic when he made his debut back in 1991; aged 11 and a card-carrying Sega fanboy thanks to my beloved Japanese Mega Drive, I joined the stunned millions around the world when the first screenshots of the game appeared in magazines.
For the longest time, the Mega Drive felt like it was crying out for a 2D platformer that could go toe-to-toe with Nintendo's Mario. I'd tried Alex Kidd in the Enchanted Castle, but it didn't quite hit the mark, and while Magical Flying Hat Turbo Adventure and Castle of Illusion fared better, they still felt inferior to the likes of, say, Super Mario Bros. 3.
Now, I'm not for a moment suggesting that the original Sonic the Hedgehog (which turns 35 on June 21st) is a match for Mario's best 2D adventures, but it certainly looked like the future when I first laid eyes on the game's title screen in an issue of UK multiformat magazine Mean Machines.
Subsequent coverage ramped up the anticipation, with the magazine's ultimate review awarding it a handsome 92%. Even before this all-important critical analysis had dropped, I knew with every bone in my body that I had to own this game; I imagine every other Mega Drive owner was having the same thought at the time.
Sonic was unusual in that it launched in Europe (where I'm based) before North America and Japan, a real oddity back in the days when Europe often had to wait months if not years to officially get the latest games.
Taking this into account, it's easy to understand why I felt such extreme whiplash upon entering the Leicester branch of Toys 'R' Us and spotting a copy not long after Mean Machines had issued its glowing review. I wouldn't be able to get my grubby hands on the game until I traded in some older titles at my local indie game store, and even then, I had to plump for a pre-owned copy to keep the price down – but it was worth the added effort.
When I booted up the game and heard that iconic "Sega!" shout, I knew I was in for something special. While Sonic lacks the depth of, say, Super Mario World (a game I had yet to play at this stage – the SNES didn't arrive in the UK officially until 1992), the visuals remain fantastic – and 35 years ago, they were simply head and shoulders above anything I'd seen on any home gaming system.
The speed, too, was a revelation; for years I'd been trained to think that platforming was all about taking methodical leaps, yet here was a game that rewarded you for throwing caution to the wind and pelting through its stages at a blistering pace.
For the remainder of 1991, Sonic utterly consumed me. I became obsessed with drawing pictures of Sonic at every available opportunity, and I even went so far as to record the soundtrack on cassette tape using the Mega Drive's 3.5mm headphone jack, forcing members of my family to listen to it on repeat.
What's unusual about all of this is that I fell out of love with Sonic almost as quickly; Sonic 2 was good, but not nearly as inventive as Mario's sequels, and because I didn't own a Mega CD until much later, I missed out on Sonic CD at launch. Sonic 3 and Sonic & Knuckles bypassed me almost completely; I had purchased a Super NES by that point and was devoting more and more of my gaming time to that system.
Sonic pretty much sat out the 32-bit war (with the exception of Sonic Jam and Sonic R), so I was ready to rekindle my love affair with the Blue Blur when he arrived on Dreamcast in Sonic Adventure – a title that delighted and frustrated me in almost equal measure.
Since then, I've been a casual follower of Sonic rather than a diehard fan, but I'll always have a special place in my heart for that jaw-dropping 1991 debut – a system-seller in every sense of the term.
