The first Sega console
When Japan’s video games industry officially recounts its own history, the story most often begins at one of two points: Either the 1978 debut of Taito’s Space Invaders (the arcade phenomenon that turned an entire nation onto gaming, permanently) or the July 1983 launch of Nintendo’s Family Computer (the console that would extend its dominance into the U.S. as the Ninten- do Entertainment System). This is a reductive and inaccurate way to look back at history, of course, but even the CESA’s official “history of games” display that appears each year at Tokyo Game Show presents its story along these lines.
Arcade games existed in Japan prior to Space Invaders, of course, and Famicom was far from the first console to go on sale there. It’s just that these two events loom large in the country’s collective memory, crowding out creations that failed to make much of an impression—things like the Pong clones of the mid ’70s, Bandai’s oddly named TV Jack 5000 system, or Epoch’s Cassette Vision console. But it could have gone a different way. Although Japanese consumers who went to the electronics store on July 15, 1983 saw the Famicom and its launch games lining shelves for the first time, that system didn’t arrive alone. Sitting on those same shelves and debuting the very same day, an equally enticing device from a company with even greater arcade clout than Nintendo appeared: The SG-1000 console from Sega (aka Sega Game 1000).
In many respects, the SG-1000 would be a more aggressive and enticing platform than Famicom in their first year on the market. Famicom saw a total of nine games hit shelves between July and December. The SG-1000, on the other hand, enjoyed more than twice that many: Sega published nearly 20 SG-1000 games in 1983 alone. Not only that, but the SG-1000 also came in a family-oriented variant called the SC-3000 (Sega Computer 3000), a home computer using the console as its core. Nintendo called its system the Family Computer, but that wouldn’t be truly accurate until the 1984 launch of the Family BASIC set with its keyboard and Data Recorder [see NES Works Gaiden Vol. I]; Sega, on the other hand, sold its platform as a proper computer from day one. SG-1000 owners could even convert their console into a de facto SC-3000, Family BASIC style, with an add-on keyboard peripheral called the SK-1100 and a data cassette deck called the SR-1000. These add-ons granted Sega fans access to a growing library of productivity and education software. While the computer didn’t meaningfully boost the system’s capabilities the way Coleco’s long-delayed Expansion Module 3 promised to transform the American ColecoVision console into an ADAM home computer, its keyboard opened up new possibilities for computing and even supported a few titles specifically presented as SG-1000 releases.
The resemblance to Coleco ADAM doesn’t seem entirely coincidental. Internally, the SG-1000 hardware shared almost completely identical tech with the ColecoVision, all the way down to Zilog Z80 processors running the same clock speed and the exact same Texas Instruments video chip. The internet offers a couple of conflicting stories about the commingled origins of the SG-1000 and ColecoVision. Some accounts suggest that the console enjoyed a brief test-market run in 1981 before being shelved for two years, while others suggest that Sega had approached Coleco about distributing the ColecoVision in Japan before simply copying the other company’s design for their own home-grown console. The latter theory seems far more likely, if only for the profound unlikelihood of two manufacturers on opposite sides of the world independently arriving at an identical console architecture spec at the same time. Whatever the truth, Sega and Coleco seemed to have maintained a friendly enough relationship, with the former licensing a number of its arcade titles to the latter, resulting in U.S. home versions of Sega hits (such as Turbo and Carnival) that curiously didn’t show up on Sega’s own SG-1000.
Back in Japan, however, Sega and Nintendo’s systems couldn’t have been more different from one another. The SG-1000 boasted less impressive graphics than the Famicom; its hardware lacked support for smooth scrolling and could only render monochrome sprites, while Famicom offered hardware-level scrolling at the pixel level and could push around four-color sprites. However, what the SG-1000 lacked in power it more than made up for with a tremendous software library and flexible use options right from the outset. Consumers who wanted a pure console experience could choose from nearly a dozen games at launch, while those who wanted a little more functionality from their investment could go with the computer option and add-on external storage, a printer, and more.
What Nintendo had in its favor, at least on day one, was name recognition and clout. The Famicom led with its strongest hand: Cartridge conversions of three of Nintendo’s most recent (and most impressive) arcade titles, with a near-simultaneous port of its new coin-op release Mario Bros. following shortly after. Sega, on the other hand, hadn’t yet scored an international hit on the level of Donkey Kong [see NES Works 1985 & ’86], and its launch-day port of Kong clone Congo Bongo was nothing to brag about. It would be a while before SG-1000 saw ports of some of the company’s more recognizable arcade releases like Monaco GP, Flicky, Zaxxon, or Choplifter.
Where Sega did hit the mark, however, was in its licensing choices. The SG-1000 was the first console in the world to see a conversion of Namco’s 1981 mega hit Galaga, programmed by Namco’s own developers. It sported an early port of Doug Smith’s Lode Runner, and adapted a popular Japanese media property through a game based on the long-running Golgo 13 manga and Big West’s Super Dimension Century Orguss anime.
In short, the SG-1000 got off to a strong start despite its technical disadvantages to Nintendo’s system. By all accounts, it performed well above Sega’s expectations in its first year on the market. Nintendo took a while to fully capitalize on the unique strengths of its hardware; the Famicom would eventually accommodate much more ambitious games than the simple arcade ports it hosted in 1983, but that didn’t begin to happen until 1985 or so. In the early days, Nintendo’s business advantages counted for more. For starters, the company already had intimate familiarity with the home market, having been a toy company for the previous 20 years or so. A big part of their business in the years leading up to Famicom’s launch had centered on standalone consoles and the Game & Watch line. Sega, on the other hand, knew the coin-op industry inside and out but had little knowledge of the consumer market. Nintendo also opened the Famicom platform to third-party publishing, which attracted heavy-hitters like Hudson and Namco; Sega insisted on publishing everything for SG-1000 under their own label, retaining the lion’s share of profits.
But, contrary to the all-or-nothing attitudes of console warriors, the video game business is about earning a profit rather than dominating the competition. The SG-1000 made money, and its variants would serve as the backbone of Sega’s home business for more than half a decade, until the Mega Drive launched; even then, the Mega Drive used the SG-1000’s Z80 processor to drive its sound hardware, providing hardware-level backward compatibility with the company’s 8-bit family. At the time of SG-1000’s debut, no Japanese corporation had managed to land a genuine console hit; even Epoch’s groundbreaking Cassette Vision failed to hit the million-unit mark. The SG-1000 didn’t outpace the Famicom’s sales, but it sold well enough that Sega decided to extend its efforts more permanently into the home console space. The Famicom pulled ahead of the SG-1000 in the systems’ second year on the market and never looked back, but Sega kept plugging away.
While decidedly flawed—the hardware would mutate into the Mark III and Master System through a succession of design corrections—the SG-1000 gave Sega the experience, presence, and confidence it needed to become a major force in console gaming through the remainder of the 20th century. Admittedly, Kazuma Kiryu rarely dabbles in this particular area of Sega gaming history… but, without the company’s first console, would there even be a Kazuma Kiryu?
