Rad Dolphin in the Loft: My First Gaming Memory
Alright, let’s set the scene. It’s around 1986’ish. I’m five or six years old. And like every curious cave-kid, I stumble across something mysterious stashed away in the loft. No, not a fossilized mammoth tusk, even better… a video game console.
In my little walnut brain at the time, I was convinced this incredible machine was called the Rad Dolphin. I mean, come on, tell me that doesn’t sound like the most awesome, gnarly sea beast ever? Sadly, grown-up me eventually discovered the real name was the Radofin Tele-Sport IV. So close, yet tragically off by one syllable and a full mental image of a flippered friend.
To this day, I’ve got no idea why the console lived in the loft. My best guess? Either my brother (who owned it) was hiding it from his destructive little sibling (me), or my dad was trying to save our delicate eyeballs from turning into squares thanks to prolonged CRT exposure.
Either way, access was rare. Loft climbing had to be initiated by an adult, usually my brother or dad. And when that glorious dusty machine came down, it was PONG time. Not the real Pong, mind you. A knockoff. A glorious knockoff.
Pong, Orange Sticks, and Joy
There was also a basic racing game in there, vague memories of pixelated blobs pretending to be cars. But Pong? That was my jam. It was so simple, so hypnotic. Just bouncing a little square ball back and forth, it captured my tiny imagination like nothing else.
The controller was a chunk of retro magic, a slouchy orange joystick with one matching orange button. I swear, the stick didn’t even center itself. It just flopped there until you gave it purpose.
And give it purpose I did… for hours (well, what felt like hours). I was in love.
The Sad Fall of the Orange Stick
Tragically, joy turned to devastation. One day, those beloved orange stick tops snapped clean off. I can still picture my dad with the glue, mumbling frustration while trying to fix what clearly wasn’t fixable.
From that day forward, the Radofin was never quite the same. The controllers kept breaking, and playing became more of a gamble than a game. You never knew if the stick would survive another match.
I also remember the front of the console had an array of mysterious switches and buttons. What did they do? No idea. Did I care? Not a chance. I just wanted to blast that square ball across the screen like a Neanderthal version of Wimbledon.
Lost to the Ages
Sadly, the Rad Dolphin (I’m calling it that forever, by the way) didn’t make it out of childhood. My mum was big into car boot sales, and many of my toys mysteriously disappeared in those wheeling-dealing fields. I’m betting the Radofin was sold for pocket change to some lucky punter.
Still stings a bit.
A Few Fun Radofin Tele-Sport IV Facts
- Made in the late 1970s/early 1980s, this bad boy was part of a line of “Pong-style” consoles that competed in the golden age of home video gaming.
- The Tele-Sport IV came with 4 built-in games: Tennis, Football, Squash, and a Motor Cycle racing game (hey, maybe that was the car game I vaguely remember?!).
- Some versions even let you switch between black & white and colour… if your TV could handle the tech!
- Radofin wasn’t a gaming juggernaut, but they did also manufacture some Mattel Intellivision consoles in Europe. Respect.
I found a Radofin Tele-Sport IV on eBay and oh look, the orange joystick top is missing from one of the controllers. At least it wasn’t just me being Neanderthal handed with them.
If you had a Rad Dolphin of your own, I’d love to hear about it (or the weird names you gave your childhood gadgets). Leave a comment, let’s talk broken joysticks and square balls!