Intro –

Replaying video games, according to us gamers, can be wildly intoxicating and eye-opening. Replaying a game can mean that it holds a special place in the gamer’s heart. For others, a replay might be necessary to discover something as simple as whether the same strategies still hold up. For me, if I’m going to replay a game, it’s usually a combination of both.

When I used to replay Chrono Trigger after beating it for the first time, I didn’t just return to it because the game held a special place in my heart. I replayed it because I always felt like there was something else to learn. When you love a game, you can give it your undivided attention from start to finish.

But loving a game doesn’t necessarily mean immediately starting it all over again. Sometimes you finish something you love and deliberately put some distance between yourself and the experience before returning to it.

I remember plenty of games I’ve finished that left me completely satisfied, but if I was ever going to do another run, it was going to be somewhere in the distant future. For me, that decision can depend heavily on the game’s length and how much recovery time I need after finishing it.

Sometimes a game gives me everything I wanted, and even if I loved the experience, I’m simply not ready—or interested enough—to immediately do it all again.

Completing a game once is often enough to prevent yourself from getting overly burned out, especially when you’re dealing with something as massive as Elden Ring or an RPG like Skyrim.

That’s why I come before you today to make the argument that not every game deserves a second playthrough. Sometimes it’s enough to experience a game once, appreciate everything it gave you and simply be done with it.

Replay’s Return on Time Investment –

The first playthrough is usually an “I’m on a mission” experience, whereas the second playthrough can become more about cleanup and experimentation. If I’m going to invest another 40–45 hours into a game, I better get something out of that replay. Give me a treasure map leading to a hidden weapon cache, access to another difficulty, a new ability or something else that allows me to keep playing while wielding power I might’ve used sparingly—or desperately needed—during the first run.

I also love the idea of testing new strategies or deliberately going after things I missed the first time. For example, if I come up with a new strategy involving the shrines in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild that I’m dying to try, that gives me a reason to take the game through the rinse cycle again, so to speak. I’m no longer simply repeating the same adventure. I’m going back because I have an experiment waiting for me.

I’ve found that replaying a game your way, or discovering your own path through it, can make you appreciate the experience even more because there’s rarely only one way to play. Whenever I replay Super Mario Bros. 3, for example, I’ll sometimes tackle certain stages in my preferred order. When I’m in Pipe Land, I always play 7-5 and then 7-4. In Ninja Gaiden Sigma 2, I might replay the game specifically to experiment with what else my weapons can do, such as using the Howling Cannon against the searchlights in South America during Chapter 12. It goes back to something I’ve always believed about games: there’s usually something else to learn.

But there’s a double-edged sword to that logic. A second playthrough doesn’t automatically become worthwhile just because the game gives me a new ability, super weapon or New Game+ reward. Those rewards can have limitations of their own, and sometimes the novelty wears off quickly. Yeah, infinite ammunition for a Grenade Launcher sounds fantastic—but if I’m one-shotting practically everything in sight, that’s eventually going to get old.

Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection gives me another example with the Armormend ability. Something like that can provide an incentive to continue playing, but by the time I’m pursuing or using a reward during another playthrough, I still have to ask whether that reward meaningfully changes the experience enough to justify everything required to get it. If the replay itself has become more demanding while the reward isn’t fundamentally changing what I’m getting out of the game, the incentive starts losing its luster.

That’s ultimately what I need from a second playthrough. Don’t just give me something new.

Give me something that makes playing again feel new.

Love It Then Leave It Alone –

Now, I’ve played and beaten over a thousand games throughout my lifetime, and I’ve usually known which games I would replay and which ones I wouldn’t.

For me, I normally made it a rule that once I played through a game, it was done and I moved on. However, there are certain games that have such a powerful hold on me that I’ll throw that rule completely out the window. That doesn’t happen often, though.

I don’t really consider a game’s ending a reason for me to go back for another playthrough. That motivation lies with me alone. One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that becoming too familiar with a game—reaching the point where there aren’t any surprises left—can turn enjoyment into monotony pretty fast.

I experienced that when I was playing through many of my PS2 games back in the day. Eventually, as much as I hated admitting it to myself, I realized it was time to move on. By then, I felt ready for the PS3 and whatever came afterward.

The replay experience itself isn’t inherently good or bad; a lot of that comes down to the gamer’s interpretation. Sometimes a game gives you so much, takes just as much from you, and then practically leaves you with a “congratulations on barely crawling away.” Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection is a prime example for me.

That game tested my patience and practically every genuine piece of time I gave it. That doesn’t mean the game was bad. It means that after everything the experience demanded from me, I didn’t need to immediately experience it again.

Everything I got out of that playthrough was enough to sustain me for years to come. Maybe I’ll eventually return to it, but there’s no urgency because I already got what I needed the first time.

And that’s something I’ve learned to respect.

Sometimes being satisfied with a game is the very reason I can leave it alone.

My Time vs. The Replay Counter –

Over the years—and even in the present day—I’ve accumulated a lot of games, and that’s not changing anytime soon. But if I had to make a distinction between new games, old games and games I’ve deliberately put on the backburner, I’d look at them differently.

New games bring excitement. Something like Dragon Quest III HD-2D Remake gives me an opportunity to try an experiment I’ve already been thinking about: taking the Hero through the adventure alone.

Old games can bring nostalgia, but they also give me opportunities to revisit strategies I’ve learned over the years—something as simple as using the Rocket Launcher against the circle of cultists in Salazar Castle in Resident Evil 4.

Then there are backburner games: games I haven’t necessarily abandoned, but ones that started doing too much and made me decide I needed a break.

Something like the stage length in New Super Mario Bros. U Deluxe can make me stop and ask myself whether I actually want to finish the game right now or come back when I’m ready.

At that point, I’m weighing the opportunity to learn something new against analyzing strategies I’ve already perfected a million times. Naturally, my ongoing goal of being—and staying—good at games requires me to continue learning everything I can, especially when I can eventually pass that knowledge down to somebody who needs it.

As far as nostalgia goes, that matters most when I believe there’s still room for me to become better at a particular game rather than simply treating that game like a leper in a colony. Looking back at my Ninja Gaiden Sigma days, I was okay at the game—but I wanted to be better.

Sure, I could’ve spent that time playing something new, like one of the Atelier Ryza games. Instead, I wanted to become as good as I possibly could at Ninja Gaiden Sigma, so I replayed it several times. Eventually, I achieved that goal. I didn’t keep returning simply because the game made me nostalgic.

I returned because I had a purpose.

There needs to be an equivalent exchange if I’m going to replay a game of my choosing. If I replay Wild Arms 5, there needs to be something left for me to learn beyond what I already know.

Maybe that means finding a better approach to preparing my characters for Ragu O’ Ragula instead of stripping them of their badges and levels just to get them ready.

The same applies to something like earning the Platinum trophy in God of War on PS4. During my first run, I already defeated the Valkyries.

If I replay the game specifically for the Platinum, fighting them again becomes optional rather than part of the objective I’m pursuing. I need to know what I’m getting out of another playthrough before I invest myself in it.

When the choice comes down to revisiting an old game or playing something new, though, I’ve learned to listen to my instincts. If I’m thinking about a particular game for longer than ten minutes—or even an hour—and I can’t focus on what I’m currently playing because something else keeps beckoning me, I make it a point to answer that call.

I’ve spent enough time ignoring what I genuinely wanted to play.

Ignoring that call isn’t an option anymore, and I no longer make it one.

Conclusion –

To wrap up, a game ultimately becomes worth replaying when I know I can take something meaningful from another experience with it. Going back to my Wild Arms 5 example, maybe that means finding a way to prepare for Ragu O’ Ragla without sacrificing levels or stripping my characters of their gear.

With Ninja Gaiden Sigma, I had another motivation entirely. It was one of the hardest games I’d play on PS3, and I didn’t want to merely be decent at it.

I wanted to be great at it.

I had a goal.

At the same time, I’ve learned that forcing myself to replay a game simply because I feel like I have to isn’t going to change how I feel about it. It won’t magically make me ready to return, nor will it change when I believe it’s time to play through that game again. Play through a game because you value the experience, not because the second experience has to overshadow the first.

Ironically, sometimes loving a game and then leaving it alone can be more than enough to capitalize on everything you got from that original experience.

For me, constantly replaying the same game can eventually cheapen what made that experience special, along with the time I originally invested in it. Sometimes you have to know where to draw the line.

And if you eventually decide that a game deserves another playthrough simply because you want to experience another side of all that hard work—maybe that’s experimenting with a different strategy, pursuing something you missed or getting access to a special New Game+ reward in something like Star Wars Jedi: Survivor—that’s cool too.

Just make sure you actually want to commit that time again.

Remember what you invested in the first run. Remember what you got out of it. Then ask yourself what another playthrough is going to give you that makes returning worthwhile.

Because a great game doesn’t automatically deserve another playthrough.

Sometimes the greatest compliment you can give a game is knowing it gave you everything you needed the first time.

Continue the Adventure –

Gaming doesn’t end when the credits roll.

Sometimes a game earns another playthrough. Sometimes it becomes something you remember fondly and leave alone. And sometimes the experience sticks with you enough that you want a little piece of that world sitting on your shelf, hanging on your wall or even riding around on your head.

But whether I’m investing another 40 hours into a game or spending money on something representing it, I want that investment to mean something.

That’s why I put together my Benable list:

https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/15-gamer-essentials-worth-adding-to-your-gaming-life