In case you hadn't noticed, the world of physical video game retail – as in, games sold in boxes in brick-and-mortar stores – is on its knees at the moment, especially in the UK, where Time Extension is based.
The country's final specialist video game retailer, GAME, has just entered administration (again) and announced the closure of all of its dedicated shops in the UK, which means, outside of a handful of plucky independent stores, there are no more high street stores devoted solely to the sale of interactive entertainment.
Given that video gaming has increasingly become an online-focused industry with the rise of digital downloads and streaming, this shouldn't come as a massive shock – but as someone who grew up in the '80s and '90s and is accustomed to the magical process of actually visiting a shop to purchase a video game, I find it very sad that the world's biggest entertainment medium is no longer well-supported with physical shops.
GAME's disappearance from UK high streets leaves Computer Exchange – or 'CeX' – as pretty much the sole remaining option for anybody who wants to buy physical games, and even then, it only sells second-hand products.
I've written about my love of CeX in the past, and it's always worth pointing out that, despite its less-than-ideal reputation in 2026, this chain was once one of the biggest importers of Japanese and North American games and hardware in the whole country.
CeX is still going strong, by all accounts, but a recent visit to Birmingham – the UK's second biggest city and the location of Ready Player One's 'real world' shoot – delivered a heartbreaking revelation to me on a personal level: they've actually buried my favourite CeX store.
Let me rewind a bit here. Back in the late '90s, CeX only had a handful of shops and wasn't the nationwide behemoth it is today. It all began in 1992 on London's Tottenham Court Road, when the outlet made its trade selling PC components and, eventually, imported video games. The Birmingham store, located on the city's busy Corporation Street, was part of the company's gradual expansion.
It was also the store closest to me, and it quickly became my go-to haunt when it came to buying the latest and greatest video games. My first purchase was a PAL copy of Mischief Makers for the N64 in December of 1997, but I soon began to avail myself of CeX's gargantuan import section, which included PlayStation, Saturn, Super Famicom, Mega Drive and much, much more.
A visit to CeX was almost a weekly occurrence back then, and, thanks to the fact that I've (rather pathetically, it has to be said) kept the majority of my till receipts, I can trace the dizzying volume of games I purchased over the next few years.
Thunder Force V (October 1998). F-Zero X (November 1998). Strikers 1945 (April 1998). Princess Crown (July 1998). Marvel Super Heroes vs. Street Fighter (March 1999). King of Fighters '96 (also March 1999). I also picked up a WonderSwan, Neo Geo Pocket, Neo Geo Pocket Color and Japanese Dreamcast from the same store, with the latter requiring me to trade-in my entire Japanese Saturn collection (including Radiant Silvergun, which at that point hadn't reached the status of eBay darling). I must have picked up thousands of pounds of stuff from there, mostly relying on the store's part-exchange scheme to fund my next purchase.
After finishing university and starting a family, my trips to Birmingham dried up, and by the time this particular brand of CeX closed its doors, it barely registered with me – by that point, the retailer had transitioned away from selling imported games entirely, which massively diminished its appeal in my eyes.
I still occasionally visited the city, and would always make a point of taking a pilgrimage to the empty Corporation Street store – which, on a previous visit just a handful of years ago, still had all of the signage in place. However, my most visit trip to Birmingham brought a shock – the CeX has literally been buried.
You see, the store was located below street level, and, back in the '90s, was accessed by two walkways from the street and an underpass which literally ran beneath the junction of Corporation Street and Bull Street.
The underpass was filled in many years ago, leaving CeX in an odd position – it could not be seen from the street level and therefore had to rely on a big logo placed on the building directly above (which, back in the 1990s, was a Virgin Megastore, if memory serves).
However, it seems that around 2022, the complete lower level was filled in to widen the road, presumably encasing the empty CeX store in concrete. A replacement store can be found just across the road, but, as I've already established, the retailer is a shadow of its former self.
I've always been a keen believer that physical, real-world locations can be a powerful trigger when it comes to nostalgic memories, and that's certainly true of this particular CeX store.
When I think of all the games I bought there, the animated chats with knowledgeable store staff and the sheer excitement of walking through the door and simply not knowing what Japanese gem I'd find waiting for me on the shelf – those are memories that will live with me forever, and I'm actually kinda sad that the physical place I made those memories is now hidden from view, buried in the name of improving traffic flow.
Did you ever visit the Corporation Street CeX? Perhaps you have a similar tale of woe regarding your own favourite gaming store? Let us know your memories by posting a comment below.