Monstér In My Pockét

The internet has this crazy way of concealing itself as popular opinion. I’ve been duped into thinking I’m some sort of weirdo when it comes to Pokémon.

It’s a feeling I’ve had for a long time now, this notion that I don’t care ‘enough’ about these pocket monsters. Am I a fairweather fan, showing up every couple of years for the launch of Pokémon games with a Ghastly shirt and a replica Ash Ketchum hat? When I say I love the Pokémon games am I…am I full of shit?

Probably not. It took way too long to realize, but I think this fascination with breeding and Generation favouritism is discussed upon a vocal minority. Turns out, I don’t need to be ashamed of not knowing any Pokémon names beyond the original 151. Or was it 152? Bah, who cares, I’m free of the shackles that held me as a ‘lesser’ fan!

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I’ve never been one to carefully weigh my starter Pokémon options. It wasn’t about future movesets, or final evolutions, I always went with the cutest. That criteria went into building my party as well. I may not stand a chance in any tournaments, but an army of Psyducks has its appeal.

I wasn’t always this way. I was pretty heavy into Blue when it came out, hyped on issues of Nintendo Power that made it clear that Pokémon was a big deal. I watched the cartoon show anime, bought ugly keychains that I doubt were licensed, and bought this sweet starter set for the trading card game. I even engaged in local tournaments, which is where I think my deviation began. These other dudes were using super ugly creatures, and wiping the floor with my assortment of cutie pies.

So while I continue to buy Pokémon games, I don’t think I’ll ever dip my toes into that more hardcore pool. I may never catch ’em all, but I’ll cherish those that I do.

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