When I was 7 I had swimming lessons every Saturday morning. Afterwards my Dad would give me 20 pence to play Final Fight (or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or WWF Superstars but mainly Final Fight). My 1 credit would always get me as far as the first level boss, Damnd. He would sit on the wall, whistling for his henchmen to beat me up and occasionally leaping in to kick me in the face when I was unawares. How could I have beaten him? I was all tired from swimming widths of the pool, plus my hair was wet and I smelt of chlorine. I had no chance. Not with just 20p.