Earlier this month, my friend Sam Borofsky passed away. For those unfamiliar with Sam, he played a pivotal role in creating and shaping the videogame industry. Between growing Atari’s business to extraordinary heights and introducing the Nintendo Entertainment System to America, Sam Borofsky is an absolute legend. In light of his passing, I wanted to write a tribute celebrating a man whose personality was as addictive as the games he helped sell, and whose hard work and creative thinking undoubtedly influenced several generations of gamers.

One of the best things about writing non-fiction is that occasionally you’ll be contacted by someone who you hadn’t even realized was part of the story. This is an experience wholly unique to journalists (J.K. Rowling, after all, isn’t getting calls from random wizards claiming to have the inside scoop on Harry P.) and not only do these out-of-the-blue, I-was-there-too experiences make a non-fiction writer’s life easier and more exciting, but they also serve as welcome reminders that stories truly are infinite. Endless details, limitless perspectives and hidden characters around every corner. And in the case of writing

NOA's original NES sales rep Sam Borofsky.

Console Wars —a book whose success hinged on connecting the dots of Detail, Perspective and Character—I will forever be grateful to have been contacted by a source, who soon became a good friend, named Sam Borofsky.

Our relationship began in early 2013 when I received the following email:

From: Samuel Borofsky

Subject: hi!i'm nintendo's original rep

Date: Wed, Jan 2, 2013 at 9:32 AM

hi blake,

ron judy asked me if i was in contact with you.

thus,i'm contacting you now.

for those that know, i was nintendo's secret weapon.

i had represented atari previously to encouraging

nintendo to enter a devastated video game mkt.

set up the new york mkt launch and thereon

have pix,reports,pr etc

if you are interested in please give me a call

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX

regards

sam borofsky

Secret weapon? Pix, Reports and PR? Damn! This Borofsky guy certainly knew the key to a writer’s heart. And his timing could not have been better.

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At this point in the Console Wars writing process, I had done just about everything except for, well, write. I’d spent nearly two years researching Sega and Nintendo, interviewed over 200 people and had just sold my book proposal to HarperCollins. So what was holding me back from getting started? Writers block? The addictive ease of doing research versus the writing? A crippling fear that because I’d never written a book my words wouldn’t possibly live up to the greatness of those who I’d be writing about? Sure, all of those things were at play. But those neuroses would persist throughout writing the entire book, so it had to be something else. And I discovered that missing ingredient the following day when I drove out to Long Island and met with Nintendo's secret weapon.

I can’t say for sure if love-at-first sight really exists, but within minutes of meeting Sam I was sold on the idea of instant and immediate friendship. I imagine this happened a lot with Sam - it was just hard not to fall in love with the guy. The man moved with heavy-handed sense of power and grace, traits that easily could have veered towards pretention or arrogance had his every word and gesture not so blatantly exuded curiosity and respect. A gentle hand to your elbow, or a tell-me-more look with his piercing blue eyes, always served as a reminder that he greatly cared about what those around him thought, did and said.

“Thank you so much for coming,” he said, waving me into his study. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you,” I said, taking in his magnificent residence in Long Island. It was one of those regal-feeling, expansive places where the mind can’t help but replace the word “house” with “estate.” Was that a fake bookcase in the corner over there? Were those tennis courts I had noticed through the window?

Borofsky understood the power of "First!"

“Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat or drink?” he asked again, always eager to put those around him at ease, but I barely heard the question because I couldn’t stop ogling everything around me. Wait, were those baseball cards encased in the crown jewel of his study? Where the heck was I? And who was this guy?

As if reading my mind—a real talent of his, I would soon learn—Sam asked me if anyone had mentioned his name before. “I don’t think so,” I said, trying not hurt his feelings, and then hoped to cushion the statement even further by explaining that it was quite possible I had simply forgotten.

“Nah,” he said, as we sat down to chat. “There’s so much out there about the history of Nintendo, but I’ve never seen anything about the role that I played.”

“Well, actually—”

“Please understand,” Sam said, vigorously tapping a finger to his chest, “and I’m sorry to cut you off, but please understand that I am not asking you to write about me.”

“No, I know.”

“Alright good,” he said, bobbing his head. “Please though. Please understand that I’m not looking to have my name in the headlights. I know what I did. My family knows. Look at this, look at my life; it’s because of these things. So it’s not about that. I just thought that since you’re writing this book, it’s important to give you some context. Because, you know, there’s all these other books out there—”

Now it was my turn to cut him off and finish what I had wanted to say earlier. “So about that,” I said, “that’s actually what got me started on this whole thing.” I explained to Sam that the reason I had wanted to write Console Wars was because I was shocked by how little had been written about the videogame industry. And although there were a few books out there, and some internet articles as well, what I had started to discover was that much of those things were just regurgitated histories. In most cases, the writers hadn’t spoken with the people themselves, so it was all just second-hand stories that were multiplying and dividing over and over. “I mention this, though, not because I’m trying to pat myself on the back, but because I don’t want you to think there’s some malicious plan to keep you out of the history books. But I consider it my job, in a way, to try and set the record straight. So let’s see if that’s something I might be able to do.”

Before we got down to business, however, Sam wanted to hear more about my experiences. Where had I grown up? What was my family like? Was there anyone special in my life? After sharing my life story, I asked that Sam return the favor and he happily obliged; a corner-creased smile enveloped his face, a portrait of happiness that I’d come to recognize any time that he spoke about his family.

“ Not only was he the first to introduce products from LG and Samsung to the United States, but he was also the first to represent pocket calculators, pagers and, of course, videogames.

A Toys 'R Us Flier promoting the US launch of the NES.

Atari, the first commercially successful videogame company, had a variety of sales reps around the country, but SBA (Sam Borofsky Associates, Ltd.) was the biggest and best; at one point responsible for generating over 30 percent of Atari’s sales. With a percentage that high, Sam deserved to be proud of his firm’s work –and he was, believe me, he loved those heady times—but what made him even happier was the second-hand pride he felt to see that success on the faces, and in the pockets, of his employees. There were about a dozen or so, mini-Borofskys; fast-talking, quick-thinking, loyalty-driven sales reps. Between this army of protégés, his loving wife, and the joy he felt in becoming a father (he had a daughter, and made it a point to always be home for dinner with his girls), life was good. It was great. It was everything he ever wanted.

And then the videogame industry crashed.

And things became tough and complicated.

And everyone was reminded that life and business were always uncertain.

But love is not. Love is not uncertain. And through those tough times Sam remained grateful for his wife, his daughter and his employees, and then hope sprung once again when he fell in love with something called Nintendo.

In 1983, Nintendo had introduced to Japan an 8-bit home videogame system called the Family Computer (Famicom). With better games and better graphics than any console that had come before, the Famicom was an enormous success in Japan. Naturally, the company’s U.S. subsidiary, Nintendo of America (NOA), wanted to introduce it in the States. But because of that videogame crash, and all the jobs and money that retailers had lost, nobody on the business-side had much interest in videogames. NOA was aware of this and hoped to circumvent those pre-conceptions by dressing up the Famicom in a way that didn’t resemble the failures that had come before. This logic led to, first, to the Nintendo AVS system (which looked more computer than console) and then to a clunky, lunchbox-looking contraption called the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES). That’s right, this wasn’t a console like the Atari 2600 or ColecoVision, but rather an Entertainment System that just so happened to play games. That was the logic, at least, but it was still hard to find someone willing to buy it (figuratively, yes, but very much literally as well). Few retailers were willing to take a chance on Nintendo, that is until Sam Borofsky stepped in.

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“ Video games were over. Trust me.

“I lived it, Blake,” Sam said. “Video games were over. Trust me.”

Intellectually, I had always known these facts, so it wasn’t too hard to trust him. There were financial records of these things, and with the personal computer revolution supposedly on the horizon, I could genuinely believe that video games really did seem like a fad whose time had passed. What I had a harder time believing, however, was that this man was somehow the key that had unlocked Nintendo’s destiny

He seemed to sense my skepticism and, first and foremost, pointed out that the success of Nintendo’s test launch in New York and the inevitable roll-out nationwide was not just because of him. It was a team effort every step of the way, ranging from his own employees to several great go-getters at NOA (people like Gail Tilden, Howard Phillips, Don James, etc.). But without bragging –because in all the time I knew him, that was something that he truly never did—his point was that even if he himself wasn't “the key” he had certainly played a key role in Nintendo resurrecting the video game market.

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He had lived through the Atari crisis, knew the video game retail business as well as anyone out there, and felt confident that if given another chance he could help build an industry that would stick around indefinitely. “Because the thing was,” he explained, “yes, there was this big crash. But that was a business thing. The kids, though, they didn’t have any idea. And now it was time for that younger brother, the kid who had watched his older brother play Atari, now it was his turn to ride the wave.”

I wanted to believe Sam, everything he said was making sense, but I still wasn’t fully convinced. At least not until the following week when I returned to his house and he shared with me some letters that he had saved from all those years ago.

“ This... confirmed for me some of what I had heard about Nintendo’s heavy-handed tactics during this era.

Perhaps I had already known this on some level, but through my relationship with Sam I began to understand this on a level that made sense intellectually, emotionally and anecdotally. And hearing it from Nintendo’s “secret weapon” gave me the clarity I had been looking for to finally start writing the chapters for Console Wars.

Although those reading this story won’t have the benefit of Sam’s anecdotes and wisdom to accompany the materials that follow, I will try my best to provide some context where it makes sense.

* * * * *

The first letter Sam shared with me was one that he had sent in February 1985 to Bruce Lowry, Nintendo of America’s VP of Sales at the time. This was eight months before the NES was introduced in the United States:

[Please note that for ease of reading, the below letters have been abridged]

February 5, 1985

To Bruce Lowry

Dear Bruce:

I’ve now had some time to think about marketing conversation last week. I’m now going to discuss my thoughts openly with you. Some of them may appear to be negative from your point of view, but they aren’t, because if anyone can sell your product at any price, it is us. However, you do know that “we are only as good as your product.” We cannot create demand – that is the factory’s job. Once there is demand, we will get more than our share (at one point in time, we represented 30% of Atari’s business).

The $169.95 price point troubles me. Especially since the Commodore 64 has been reduced to $149.95 due to poor sales (profits 90% off) in the 4th quarter…Unless you have revolutionary and breathtaking innovations enough to bring back turned off gamists and create new ones, very ambitious numbers will be very hard to meet.

Stability, features, profit, hyped demand and the image of allocation are the keys to stimulate business…As we’ve discussed often, retailers are shell-shocked over high cartridge inventory (many are still selling inventory which is years old). They will be reluctant to carry any new video game or cartridges without complete protection. Protection not against price, but inventory. This I can assure you of. We must create a “buy in, pull through and take out” inventory program. For instance, retailers buy in with a 90-day window; at the end of 90 days, they are stock balanced for titles, dollar for dollar (we could set requirements such as 1 ad per month). This gives them the assurance they need. This, however, puts a great responsibility on you. You must not over-produce.

I could go on and on. You’ve given me such inspiration…

The next thing Sam shared that really caught my eye was a press release that Nintendo had issued on June 2, 1985 announcing the upcoming launch.

Redmond, WA – A major fourth quarter advertising and promotional campaign for the Nintendo Entertainment System will be staged in the metropolitan NY area, it has been announced by Ronald J. Judy, Vice President of Marketing for Nintendo of America Inc.

Key elements of the campaign include a $2.5 million broadcast and print media advertising push, to be launched in mid-September lasting through the holiday sales season; a series of merchandising support programs for retailers; and a public relations effort directed at local and national New York-based press outlets.

According to Mr. Judy, Sam Borofsky Associates, Ltd., based in Roslyn, New York has just been appointed as the sales representatives firm for the Nintendo Entertainment System. Formerly, the firm represented Atari’s game and computer products for over eight years, and offers solid expertise in the Metro New York consumer electronics marketplace. Their current accounts include Jensen Audio and Phone-Mate.

The Nintendo Entertainment System features the world’s only interactive Video Robot, plus two controllers and one robot game. Affordably priced at under $130 suggested retail, the system will be in stores first week of October.

The next thing that really dazzled me was a snippet from a letter than Sam had sent to Ron Judy, Nintendo’s Director of Marketing, on September 20, 1985:

I know ’85 will be successful for us. The close teamwork has been extraordinary and should continue even though Nintendo will become a much larger company. After 8 years with Atari on an intimate basis from Warner on down, I’ve seen it all and done it all. I can assure you. I will not let Nintendo make the same mistakes and miss the same opportunities. Ron, the challenge excites me! Together we can sew up the country especially coming off a recent success in New York by March 1st building to a crescendo in the 4th quarter of 1986.

As a lover of Nintendo’s marketing from the 8-bit era, I was particularly thrilled when Sam found the invitation from Nintendo’s launch party for the NES, as well as newspaper ads from around that time:

(Click either image for a high-res version)

As Nintendo began to succeed, the goal was no longer to simply to stay in business, but to grow that business as large as possible. I particularly enjoy this excerpt from a letter that Bruce Donaldson, NOA’s VP of Sales, sent to “All Nintendo Regionals Reps and WOW Sub reps” (dated May 11, 1987) because it seems to signify that shift, as well as clearly depict Nintendo’s opinion of third-party games during this era.

“ Third party software for NES is competition, just as Atari, Sega and anyone else might be.

That letter signified a noticeable shift in tone, as does the memo below, which provides a glimpse into Nintendo’s legendary “control” from the NES days. This memo is dated June 16, 1987, and comes from Randy Peretzman, a former employee of Sam’s at SBA who left to become NOA’s Eastern Regional Sales Manager:

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Subject: WOOLWORTH

…it is criminal for Woolworth to be at $19.99. This is especially amazing considering the major profit discussions that we have had with Peter Donahue based upon his management direction in the last few months. I also can’t quite understand this happening after you had some major commitments from Don MacMillans after the last problem ad. As you know, I certainly cannot suggest any type of retail pricing, but can still voice to you my strong concern over the profitability at Woolworth. This concern continues to be magnified since that account itself has voiced similar reservations on the profitability of our category.

Sam, I would rally appreciate it if you could get back to me on what the “new” direction at Woolworth might or might not be.

The final letter that I’ll publish was also Sam’s favorite. In fact, he liked it so much that he read it out loud to me.

September 29, 1987

To Peter Main, VP of Marketing and Bruce Donaldson, VP of Sales

Dear Peter & Bruce:

Hope this letter finds you in the best of circumstances.

“ To take R.O.B. away now is to put Nintendo in the same competitive rat race as Atari, Intellivision, Sega, and probably, next year NEC.

To take R.O.B. away now is to put Nintendo in the same competitive rat race as Atari, Intellivision, Sega, and probably, next year NEC. We should not give up our uniqueness. Though we sell many pieces of hardware because of our great titles…we must not lose our edge…I still believe that when you mention Nintendo to a customer they think of R.O.B. Ideally we should develop or offer incentives to our licensees to develop software for R.O.B.

The other point that will upset the retailer is that you will be taking away his more profitable item. One of he other things I stated in 1985 is that we must keep the profitability in the product. Instead the retailer’s margins have been eroding each season.

It scared me when Atari was basically a one product company until too late and it scares me now should this move be made. The more choices we can offer a consumer, the more packages (sku’s) we can put on a retailers shelf, the more dollars we can use up from a retailers open to buy – the fewer competitive products we will share shelf space with.

Sam stopped here to sigh and mutter the word “Sega.” He then continued:

Should Nintendo make this move to discontinue the deluxe system we will lose shelf space and some importance, believe it or not, to our competition. From a psychological point of view we cannot show our customer or consumer that Nintendo is abandoning a product. What about all the people who bought deluxe sets already? The way to go is forwards not backwards.

A popular marketing book states that “Getting the enemy to eat it is the key objective of offensive warfare. The morale factor can be decisive. The emphasis should be on destroying the morale of your opponent.” Killing off the deluxe system will be increasing the morale and opportunities of our competitors.

The reason we brought out the two systems was to cover both ends of the consumer buying spectrum. We had the mid to high end customer who wanted all and could pay for it but we were also concerned for the less affluent customer. The strategy was brilliant and it worked. Now is not the time to fix something that doesn’t need fixing.

“ How do we know how our customers and consumers minds will react to the death of ROB?

Inside every human being is a little “black box.” When a human being is exposed to our advertising or sales claim, that person looks inside the box and says “that’s right” or “that’s wrong.” The single most wasteful thing we can do in marketing today is try to change a human mind. Once a mind is made up, it’s impossible to change. What is truth? Truth is the perception that’s inside the mind of our prospect. It may not be your truth, but it’s the only truth we can work with...I want to see Nintendo remain in the minds of all as the technology and value leader. Without R.O.B./Deluxe we may be perceived just like anyone else.

I hope this letter is taken in the positive vein it was written. Nintendo has been a “baby” I’ve watched grow from its birth in NY. It’s become the foundation of my business. I must say what’s on my mind and in my heart. As always, I will accept any decisions and do my utmost to he the best.

Thanks for your indulgence. I welcome your response.

Sincerely,

Sam Borofsky

“ ...if they’d kept that stupid robot, I don’t think Sega would have ever come around.

We’ll never know if Sam would have been correct, but if that had been the case—and if Sega had never crashed Nintendo’s party—then I never would have set out to write Console Wars and had a chance to cross paths with Sam Borofsky. And that, I can assure you, would have been a damn, damn shame.

I miss you, my friend. Very much so. Thank you for taking me under your wing and for letting me join you for all those strolls down memory lane.

Blake Harris is a freelance journalist and author of Console Wars: Sega, Nintendo, and the Battle that Defined a Generation. You can follow him on Twitter at @blakejharrisNYC