For some, the arrival of the Xbox One means finding room for it in a TV cabinet or entertainment centre, especially for those power-user gamers with multiple consoles spanning generations. For me, it meant putting out to pasture an original Xbox, one given to me by a very good friend.
The following is an essay I wrote about the console in January 2012, after he gave me his games and his old Xbox, something that hadn't been played in about six years. Inspecting the saves on the hard drive led me to a different understanding of him at unique time in his life and learning we have even more in common than what already makes us such good friends.
Last night, I left the plugs for the Xbox still in the cabinet, still connected to the TV in case, in a fit of nostalgia, I get the urge to hook it up and play Knights of the Old Republic or TimeSplitters or, MVP Baseball 2005. But with digital editions of Manhunt, Grand Theft Auto III and Vice City available on PlayStation Network, and high-definition re-releases of Hitman also available, it wasn't seeing much use. I was playing the Xbox so infrequently that every time I powered it on I had to reset the clock.
The console is on a shelf in my utility room, next to 16 green cases, some of them the games my friend played. I may have moved the Xbox, but I will never get rid of it.