Frogger

Enjoy Playing Frogger

I still remember that first time I slid my little frog onto the busy highway—my heart pounding as cars whizzed by and I desperately tried to time my jumps just right. There’s something oddly serene about the simplicity of guiding a tiny green creature across a sea of hazards, yet at the same time, it’s pure panic when you get too close to a speeding taxi or a runaway truck. You’ve got to plan every move and keep your cool, because a single misstep and you start all over again.

Once you clear the road, you’ve got to line up your frog on floating logs and turtles drifting down the river. It’s a bit of a puzzle in itself—figure out which logs will carry you safely to the other side and which turtles might sink just as you’re about to hop off. There’s this satisfying click when you land perfectly on a log, and then that brief moment of dread right before the next leap. It keeps you glued to the screen, coaxing you into “just one more try” until your vision goes all hopped up.

Scoring is straightforward but surprising. Avoid hazards, rescue bonus frogs, grab insects that buzz by for extra points, and all of a sudden you’re chasing that elusive high score you’ve bragged about to your friends. No flashy power-ups or complicated controls—just a simple joystick, a sprinkle of adrenaline, and the goal of filling all those lily pads at the top before time runs out. It’s almost Zen, in a frantic kind of way.

What really sticks with me is how timeless it feels. Even years later, pulling it up again brings back that same thrill of narrowly escaping traffic or misjudging a turtle’s dive. It’s proof that a game doesn’t need bells and whistles to be deeply engaging—just a clear objective, tight mechanics, and the endless temptation to beat your own record.