This past weekend, I joined Global Game Jam 2025. I was supposed to go with friends, but they bailed, so I went solo. Luckily, I found a guy on Facebook also using Godot, and we met up at the local Unity offices (ironic, I know). We picked up two more Godot devs and an awesome sound guy, and just like that, we had a team.

The theme was bubbles, and after way too much brainstorming, we landed on a chaotic idea: bubble soccer, where players are literally the ball. We wanted crowds that cheered, sang, and even cursed (in Simlish, obviously), but we soon realized our game wasn’t fun. It was boring, clunky, and the placeholder art? Let’s just say none of us are quitting our day jobs for a career in pixel art.

When soccer didn’t work, we pivoted to basketball. One less goal, less gravity, and boom—things started clicking. The bubble mechanics became chaotic fun, especially when we added a feature where you shrank as you sped up, making it easier to score but harder to block. And for the visuals? Rainbows, smiling clouds, and angelic fans chanting nonsense. The contrast between cute art and cheeky sound effects gave the game a bizarre charm.

By the end of the jam, we had a basketball game in the sky. People loved it—once they figured out the controls. Turns out, they didn’t know they could rematch or that pressing down wasn’t for dashing but braking. Here are three quick lessons I learned from our experience:

First, make it obvious when players can rematch. After a match ended, the game paused, waiting for someone to press space—but nobody knew that. I started pressing space myself when couples finished matches, and to my surprise, they were happy to jump back into it (one couple shouted "best of three!"). They just didn’t know rematches were possible! Next time, I’ll either restart automatically or add a giant “Press Space to Rematch” sign.

Second, don’t spend ages on a cutscene no one will watch. We poured love into our intro, only for it to get mostly skipped in favor of matches. Lesson learned: if you want people to see your cutscene, loop it on a side screen.

Finally, explain your mechanics. Some players intuitively thought “down” meant “dash downward” when it actually stopped momentum. A quick tutorial or on-screen prompt could’ve saved us from a lot of confused faces—and made the game even more fun.

By the end of the jam, we had a basketball game in the sky. It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours, and it was fun. Ultimately, Game Jams are about learning through chaos, and oh boy there was a lot of learning and a lot of chaos. Watching people play and laugh reminded me that even the weirdest ideas can bring joy—if you’re willing to adapt and embrace the mess. Sure, we made mistakes, but those moments of confusion and surprise taught me more than any polished game ever could. And honestly? Seeing players shout “best of three!” after I secretly hit space for a rematch was worth every sleepless hour.