Tony Hawk: A Game from an Era Nobody Really Knew How to Play Well

13 Ago Tony Hawk: A Game from an Era Nobody Really Knew How to Play Well

The Tony Hawk series enjoyed massive popularity ever since the first game launched at the end of the last century, boosted by the name of the most famous and celebrated skater of the time. Tony Hawk wasn’t just a recognizable face—he was a seal of quality and excellence during the golden era of skateboarding. While many of us played the various games in this franchise as kids and teens, the truth is, no one really knew how to play them properly. Beneath their arcade-like exterior, these games hid a shockingly demanding simulator component.

We thought we knew how to play Tony Hawk, but we had no idea what we were doing. Here’s one player’s experience, then and now. “It had been a long time since I played a Tony Hawk game, and since Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4 was added to Game Pass, I decided to give it a go. Within just a few minutes of playing, I was horrified—this wasn’t at all how I remembered the originals. Two key reasons: the control system and the high level of difficulty.

This entry is a compilation of two remakes—Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3 and 4—much like Pro Skater 1+2 did back in 2020. What I expected to be a lighthearted session with a dose of nostalgia quickly turned into hell. The character bails with astonishing ease, which makes pulling off tricks much harder. “This can’t be happening,” I thought. “I can’t be THIS bad,” I kept telling myself as I struggled to complete the tutorial. Eventually, I caved and turned on all the assists the game offers: perfect balance, unlimited special meter, never fall off the board… A complete disgrace. I felt dirty for needing those crutches.

Back when I played the original games with friends on PSX, I didn’t remember the controls being so brutal—requiring such a high level of precision based on the character’s position and the environment. And that’s the main issue with these games: their theme and aesthetic seem aimed at a general audience—or at least people curious about skateboarding. But they demand hours and hours to truly master the controls, aligning more with hardcore gamers, who typically aren’t into sports games.

I remember that because we didn’t really know how to perform advanced tricks, when I played versus matches to see who could score more points, I would just spam grinds on the endless rails and ledges scattered around the levels. It was a reliable trick, easy to do, and didn’t require balance. It got so bad that my friends literally banned me from grinding to keep matches fair.

I’m not here to bash the games or call them “bad.” My takeaway is that nostalgia blinds us. Like many players, I had great memories of these games—but in truth, I had no clue what I was doing. A few grinds or manuals here and there, nothing too fancy, and as a result, pretty low scores. I didn’t realize this until more than twenty years later, when I returned to play the remakes.

Maybe that’s where the magic of Tony Hawk lies: they were games that made us feel skilled, even when we weren’t. They let us believe we were mastering an extreme sport from our living rooms—when really, we had no idea. Now that I’m playing them again, with a bit more age and perspective, I can see that the depth was always there. We just didn’t have the knowledge or skill to appreciate it.

Instead of chaining tricks to rack up points, we spent time goofing around in the levels, trying to crash the character in the most painful and hilarious ways possible. That’s why these remakes aren’t just time capsules that take us back—they also force us to confront our own limitations as players. The real question now, having escaped Plato’s cave, is whether I’ve got the skill—and the patience—to 100% the game.”