Why One Player Gave Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom a Second Chance in 2026
A critic revisits The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom years later and finally experiences the joy of experimentation that previously eluded him.
In 2026, as the games industry barrels toward yet another packed holiday season and fans debate whether the upcoming Zelda film will capture the series’ magic, one critic decided to revisit a game that has haunted his personal backlog for years. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, Nintendo’s 2023 masterpiece, was supposed to be the crown jewel of that year’s releases. Yet for this seasoned reviewer, it never quite clicked. Now, with no pressure to rank it against the year’s best, he’s dived back into Hyrule — and something has changed.
Back in May 2023, the launch of Tears of the Kingdom felt monumental. The sequel to the revolutionary Breath of the Wild arrived riding a tidal wave of hype. The reviewer, who covers games for a living, was among the most excited. He had spent hundreds of hours with its predecessor, and like so many others, he secretly hoped for a darker, more Majora’s Mask-style twist — maybe even a chance to play as Zelda herself. What Nintendo delivered instead was a physics sandbox so absurdly creative it made the original look like a tech demo. Ultrahand and Fuse weren’t just features; they were invitations to break reality. But for this particular player, something was missing.
“Honestly, it felt like a chore,” he admitted recently, looking back. “I’d watch clips of giant mechs and Korok torture devices, and I just couldn’t relate. I’d stick a boulder to a sword and call it a day.”

The problem wasn’t the game’s ambition — it was the weight of expectation. Every moment was filtered through the memory of Breath of the Wild. Exploring the Sky Archipelago should have been liberating, but instead he couldn’t stop comparing it to the Great Plateau. Traversal, which the developers clearly intended as a collaborative puzzle between player and physics, became a grind because he never really embraced building vehicles. The game’s soul — that sense of joyful experimentation — bounced right off him. Meanwhile, social media buzzed with other players marveling at their flying machines, and every hurdle felt like a mountain he was too stubborn to climb.
Then came the boss’s warning, a line that stuck with him for three years: “Don’t cram games before writing your list.” At the time, he was juggling Cocoon, Chants of Sennaar, El Paso, Elsewhere, and a Baldur’s Gate 3 obsession, all while rushing through The Invincible. He was cramming, and Tears of the Kingdom became the biggest cram of all. He pushed through the Wind Temple — an experience he later described as “one of the best Zelda dungeons I’ve ever played” — but the damage was done. The game didn’t make his Game of the Year list, and it sat on the shelf, quietly judging him.

Now, in late 2026, that same critic has picked up the controller again. The landscape has shifted. The Switch successor is rumored to launch next year, and a new 3D Zelda is likely years away. There’s no race, no deadline, no need to prove he’s “enjoying it right.” He’s playing Tears of the Kingdom as a Christmas game — a cozy, slow-burn ritual that has previously rescued gems like Chicory and Guardians of the Galaxy from the cold grip of his backlog.
Hyrule itself seems to have changed its tune. The world no longer feels like a stage for comparison; instead, it’s a place that breathes. The Depths, once an oppressive chore, now beckon with gloomy mystery. “You know what’s funny?” he mused. “I’m actually reading the diaries this time. I’m following foxes because why not. Link is a weird little guy, and I’m finally letting him be weird.” Those short, stilted sessions of 2023 have been replaced by leisurely afternoons of shrine-hopping and sky-diving — without a single rocket shield in sight.
The physics engine, so often described in clinical terms, now feels like a spirited collaborator. When a hastily glued plank bridge wobbles, it’s not a failure; it’s Hyrule’s way of nudging him toward a different solution. The game was never asking for mechanical mastery, he realizes. It was asking for a willingness to play — a distinction that three years of rest has made crystal clear.
Will Tears of the Kingdom retroactively steal a spot on a 2023 Game of the Year list that’s already been set in stone? Probably not. But it might just snatch the crown for his most rewarding replay of 2026. Taking it slow, free from the frantic chatter of launch week, has unlocked something the game always promised: the chance to lose yourself in a world that’s still full of surprises. The Wind Temple remains a triumph, the sky islands still hold secrets, and the Depths… well, he’s saving those for Christmas morning.
In a medium obsessed with the new, maybe the bravest thing a player can do is give a masterpiece a second first impression.