Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has procured a plastic monument to developmental overstimulation. It's from a brand called VTech, a name I associate with the kind of electronic shrieking that curdles my cream. This particular contraption, a gaudy yellow and orange affair, purports to be a "Smart Shots Sports Center." It aims to teach a small, uncoordinated human the primitive arts of putting a sphere through a hoop or into a net. It features a blinking scoreboard and a cacophony of encouraging noises, which I can only assume are designed to shatter the serene silence required for a proper nap. The only potential saving grace in this entire loud endeavor is the inclusion of small, perfectly-sized balls, which might, if liberated from the main structure, prove to be worthy of a brief, tactical bat across the hardwood floor.
Key Features
- Two sports in one! Shoot a basket or score a goal on this combination activity center
- Animated LED scoreboard counts baskets and plays encouraging sounds and phrases
- Turning gears help develop fine motor curiosity; buttons introduce shapes, numbers and sounds
- Set up and start playing right away with the included balls perfectly sized for little hands and feet
- Intended for ages 12-36 months; requires 3 AA batteries; batteries included for demo purposes only; new batteries recommended for regular use
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The operation had to be conducted under the cover of early morning light, before the tiny human target was awake. My primary human had assembled the "Sports Center" the night before, a process I observed from atop the bookcase, my tail twitching in silent judgment. It was a fortress of auditory assault, a garish plastic keep designed to hold its treasures captive. And what treasures they were: two perfectly spherical objects, one orange, one brown, nestled innocently in their designated holsters. My mission: asset extraction. I slunk from my perch, paws silent on the rug. The fortress loomed. My initial probe was a gentle nudge of a large purple button. A jarringly cheerful voice yelled "Circle!" and a series of lights flashed. A primitive alarm system. I backed away, annoyed but undeterred. A more subtle approach was needed. I noted the mechanical gears on the side. They weren't electronic. A purely physical lock. I hooked a single, perfect claw into a cog and pulled. It turned with a satisfying, non-electronic *click*. I had bypassed the first layer of defense. The primary assets were now within reach. The "soccer" ball was resting in the lower net. A simple extraction. I slipped my paw through the netting, hooking the ball and rolling it free. It skittered away, a silent victory. But the second, the "basketball," was perched higher up, a prize displayed for all to see. This required more finesse. Leaping onto the back of the sofa provided a superior angle of attack. From there, it was a simple matter of a calculated swipe. The ball popped from its cradle, bounced off the heinous orange rim, and landed with a soft thud on the carpet. The scoreboard lit up, playing a triumphant fanfare. It thought it had won. It had no idea it had just heralded its own defeat. With both assets secured, I ignored the plastic husk of the fortress. Its lights could flash and its voice could chatter all it wanted; it was now an empty vault, a monument to a successful heist. I nudged the orange sphere with my nose and batted it under the credenza, my personal secure holding facility. The other would soon join it. The VTech contraption was, as a whole, an insult to good taste and quiet living. Its components, however, once liberated from their noisy prison, were of the highest quality. A successful mission, indeed. Now, for a celebratory nap.
