Tim Walz, the current governor of Minnesota and the Democratic vice-presidential nominee, has a personal history that stands out among his political peers.
The Washington Post reported that unlike the typical pastimes associated with prominent politicians, such as sailing or hunting, Walz was notably obsessed with the Sega Dreamcast console during his 30s. This unusual hobby offers a glimpse into a more personal side of a man who has otherwise been defined by his public service.
Walz's fascination with the Dreamcast was not a passing interest but a deep-seated passion.
According to those close to him, he would spend hours engaged with the console, to the point where his wife had to intervene.
On one occasion, she unplugged and hid the Dreamcast, a testament to the hold it had over him. This obsession may seem peculiar for a man who would later rise to such political prominence, but it also underscores the impact that the Dreamcast had on those who appreciated its unique place in gaming history.
The Sega Dreamcast was released in North America in September 1999, marking the last console Sega would produce. It arrived at a pivotal moment in gaming history, entering the market just before the release of Sony's PlayStation 2, a console that would go on to dominate the industry.
Sega had been a key player in the video game world since 1983, the same year Nintendo launched its debut console in Japan. The rivalry between Sega and Nintendo was fierce, epitomized by Sega's bold advertising slogan, “Genesis does what Nintendon’t.”
The Dreamcast, however, was a console ahead of its time. It was the first to be internet-ready, allowing players to connect and compete online—a feature that would become standard in future gaming consoles.
The Dreamcast also boasted a lineup of innovative games, including “Crazy Taxi,” “Samba de Amigo,” and “Jet Set Radio.” These titles were unlike anything available on other platforms and contributed to the Dreamcast’s cult status among gamers.
Despite its innovations, the Dreamcast struggled in the market. Its launch was overshadowed by the anticipation of the PlayStation 2, which used CDs, a medium that had already started to reshape the industry in the mid-1990s. Sega's console, while groundbreaking in many ways, could not compete with the marketing power and brand loyalty that Sony had cultivated with the PlayStation.
In a last-ditch effort to save the Dreamcast, Sega released a game called “Segagaga” on March 29, 2001. The game itself was a meta-commentary, allowing players to take on the role of a Sega employee tasked with making the Dreamcast a commercial success.
Unfortunately, this creative approach was not enough to turn the tide. Just two days later, on March 31, 2001, Sega officially discontinued the Dreamcast and exited the video game hardware business.
The Dreamcast's failure marked the end of an era for Sega, but it also cemented the console's legacy in the annals of gaming history. For many, including Tim Walz, the Dreamcast represented a time when video games were beginning to explore new possibilities.
Its innovative features and unique game library left a lasting impression on those who experienced it, even if it did not achieve commercial success.
Walz's devotion to the Dreamcast is a reminder of how technology and culture intersect in unexpected ways.
While other politicians might be remembered for their more conventional hobbies—Calvin Coolidge’s collection of exotic pets or John F. Kennedy’s passion for yachting—Walz’s engagement with the Dreamcast speaks to a different kind of cultural engagement, one that resonates with a generation of gamers who grew up during the console wars of the 1990s and early 2000s.
The story of Tim Walz and the Sega Dreamcast is more than just an anecdote about a politician’s unusual hobby.
It is a reflection of the broader cultural shifts that were taking place at the turn of the century, as video games began to emerge as a dominant form of entertainment and a significant part of popular culture. Walz’s obsession with the Dreamcast underscores the console’s lasting impact, despite its commercial failure.
