This is the perfect portable card game. Nobody did it better before this, and nobody’s done better since. It’s more a party than a game, really; a joyous celebration of everything SNK and Capcom have ever done, each side bringing their very best to a pair of nigh-identical Neo Geo Pocket Color carts (and now happily ported to various modern formats).
The card game sitting at Clash’s core is extremely simple when compared to Magic: The Gathering, Yu-Gi-Oh, Shadowverse, Hearthstone, or pretty much any other collectible card game available these days (pretty much any other CCG full stop, if I’m honest), but that’s just one of its many charms. This simplicity is the reason why it’s always been such a great fit for its pocketable battery powered home, and the reason why it’s always been so easy to dip into for a quick, casual, game or three. Much as I love sifting through a huge stack of cards and building an unstoppa-OK, decen-hmm, let’s just say functional deck in a “real” CCG, here I can just throw some extras into the pre-made decks the Capcom and SNK characters start with and have a bit of fun. It’s been designed to be picked up and put down as often as I please, the game even automatically (magically, if you ask me) suspending itself whenever I turn my NGPC off, and so as long as the cart stays in I’m merely seconds away from getting back into a card fightin’ clash.
This simplicity can be found in every aspect of the “ring”, as the game calls it—the field the cards are placed on. I can put one card in the ring per turn. My opponent can do the same on their turn. We each get three functionally identical places to place our cards. And that’s it. There are no side decks to consider. No pauses to fuss over the differences between exiles and discards and graveyards and banishments. No special little null spaces for passive effects or equipment to sit in. No flipped cards or tapped cards or tokens to generate and then keep track of.
Every other aspect of this intense card-on-card battling is just as easy to grasp. A card’s health is also its attack power (officially referred to as BP: Battle Power), and attacking is virtually a case of pushing two cards together, like a child playing with action figures: one person declares which of their cards will attack, the other chooses who will block them, if they choose to block anything at all. That’s pretty much the basics covered.
Although that doesn’t mean there’s no strategy or nuance to Card Fighters’ combat.
Many cards have interesting skills attached to them, making them more powerful than their numerical weaknesses might imply—Oro for example automatically gains 100BP whenever my opponent draws a card, and that allows him to perform “hit and run” tactics, perhaps attacking or defending, then sitting out for a little while to recover and come back as strong (or even stronger) than before. Anakaris erases everyone’s skills (including his own) the instant he enters the ring, completely shutting down even the sneakiest foe’s tactical planning—for a short while, at least.
Whoever ends up in the ring, all cards have to take a one turn rest after attacking, so I always have to consider if it’s better to maximise the amount of damage I dish out in a single turn, or if I should hold back a little for my defence’s sake. And if I do attack, should I have my cards stand alone, spreading their damage more widely, or should I spend some Soul Points to bring them all together for a piercing Unite attack, using their combined might to plough straight through whatever stands in their way and hopefully deal some damage to the opposing player sitting behind the cards in the process?
Whatever I decide to do, I at least know it’ll leave a lasting dent on my opponent as all damage taken, no matter how insignificant, is permanent. A measly 100BP attack hurled against an intimidating 1000BP card will still help to make that titan just a little bit less damaging next round. I might even want to destructively fling a weakling at my enemy, their obliteration leaving their slot in the ring free for a fresher card with more power or a helpful skill behind it to take its place.
Or, if the other player refuses to take the bait, what I might be able to do instead is reinforce a card that’s already in play, using a compatible ally sitting in my hand to bolster their strength. These combinations are just another way for Card Fighters’ Clash to celebrate the rich gaming history it draws on, and bring these cards to life. Of course Street Fighter‘s Ken will support Ryu. And who else would help Metal Slug‘s Marco other than Eri, Tarma, and Fio?
Famous faces like these are generously scattered throughout the game’s 300-strong library of cards, with less familiar characters treated as a chance for the game to honour the old and the forgotten, rather than drag out the time between the beginning of the game and me finally seeing someone like Kyo Kusanagi or Claire Redfield turn up in a deck.
Out of battle these games are, if anything, even more of a fan fest. The atmosphere is less “deadly serious card tournament” and more just people just hanging out in fun SNK/Capcom themed places and maybe playing a card game if both sides are in the mood for a match. The structure here—what little of it there is—is simply to earn 5 special coins by defeating the “boss” of each themed area, granting access to the official tournament and the finals beyond. Unlike other similar collect ’em ups split into two slightly different releases (in truth there’s not even a double-digit quantity of cards exclusive to each version), there are no mandatory gauntlets of fans or other developers to battle through, and I can go wherever I like, when I like. I can even walk straight up to Shinji Mikami in the Resident Evil themed mansion and challenge him within minutes of starting a brand new game. This freeform fighting gives the game a lovely, relaxed, feeling. I can just play cards with some friends (or foes), it doesn’t have to be a big deal, and although it’s always nice to win, it doesn’t matter if I lose.
Thanks to this freeform fighting I’m free to enjoy all the sweet little references packed in here at my leisure. Capcom’s gigantic Dust Dragon statue (Forgotten Worlds). A King of Fighters arcade cabinet. A quick peek inside a crane machines stuffed with toys and trinkets. I can’t actually use any of these machines or even see exactly what’s inside, but in the moment I can almost imagine my face pressed against the glass, trying to win a cute Nakoruru plushie or Lilith keychain.
The game’s so very proud of all that it represents, and I adore its heartfelt enthusiasm in the face of bleak reality. Examining one arcade machine in Joy Joy Land leads to this rather optimistic bit of dialogue: “It’s the Joy Joy Kid! A well known puzzle game”, which is a short sentence nobody has ever honestly uttered when discussing Joy Joy Kid. But just for this little moment I can almost believe these two developers are the most important gaming forces in the universe, that in this alternate reality Joy Joy Kid really is as big as Card Fighters’ Clash insists it is. In this wonderful land everyone has a Star Gladiator main, the NGPC is the most popular handheld on the planet, and maybe, just maybe, with enough passion and courage from all sides, things will work out just fine for developers who really love making games designed for enormous, prohibitively expensive, cartridges or can’t wait to unleash their latest action platformer, a decade too late for it to catch on.
None of the above ever came to pass (and some of it was overly optimistic even when Card Fighters’ Clash was new), but I’ll forever be grateful for this pocket-sized peek into paradise.
Kimimi The Game-Eating She-Monster 