My (and Your) Obsession with Pokemon

By Samantha Tynes

I love Pokémon. I know the internet does too. The weeks leading up to the latest release were filled with speculation and anticipation. And what happened after?

The internet exploded.

And definitely not for the first time. People are crazy about pokémon crafts, art, plushies, merchandise, drinks, clothes, cosplay, poké-everything. You can even turn your iphone into a pokédex. Or a squirtle.

Scrolling through page after page of reviews and articles, dozens of comics, and watching my Facebook be taken over by friend codes and people asking for feedback on their team (Which they should totally just stick with a theme instead), I got to thinking: Why do we love Pokémon so much? Honestly, I may be living in a bubble of people 25 and under who will forego actual human contact with people they know to trade friend codes with strangers in hotel elevators, but the internet disagrees! Or at least, it’s a very, very large bubble.

Who needs strategy when you have a team made of cats? (Image via Dorkly)

I got my first pokémon when I was 10. It was a pikachu. And yeah, I got started on the TV show before the game, and I played Yellow first, so sue me for being on the bandwagon. I turned on that plastic joy box, reassured a supposedly world-renowned scientist of my gender and left my sleepy hometown to press gang wild animals into being my prize fighting slaves to further my own glory, battling the hordes of feral creatures populating the untamed roads on the way. I mean, traveling across the land, searching far and wide. To teach pokémon to understand the power that’s inside.

Definitely worth the wait. This thing was bitchin'.

I got my little electric rat (who hated me) and set out. I caught my first pokemon and that was it. I was a trainer. I was invested for life. I liked pokémon for a very long list of reasons. I liked collecting things. I liked the steady flow of battling to level up. I liked making my favorite pokemon stronger and kicking butt at gyms to collect even more things. 

Pokémon is the perfect storm of a franchise for my generation. It catches you young, combining the immediate joy of getting new things with the drive to get more and complete the set. It was full of creatures that appealed across gender lines, and was competitive without completely shutting out new players. The pokémon of today is not the pokémon of my youth. There are mini games, beauty contests, items, weather conditions, training your pokemon to be better at whatever stat it’s lacking in. There are new types, new zones, pre-evolutions, and now mega-evolutions (which are pretty sweet).

Sometimes, when a series or franchise has been around long enough it can get bogged down with all the changes and “improvements” to the system, turning it into a lumbering hodgepodge of half-formed and half-forgotten ideas that drag it deep the the ground. Pokémon has avoided this, it’s still the same game we played fifteen years ago. It’s just grown up with us. There were always rules, but by now the sheer amount of math and effort put into understanding and optimizing them is staggering, but isn’t weighing the game down.

It's a kid's game, I swear. (Image via Critical-Gaming)

All these things have made it different, but keeping it feeling same. An irresponsible mother lets her child travel the road alone, with naught but their wits and a map so they can fulfil their dream and do a scientist’s job for him. We build our collection and lovingly craft the perfect team. Only this time, you get those running shoes before you even know what it’s like to not have them, and there are faerie pokemon. But don’t worry, if you hit someone’s grass-type with flamethrower, it’s going down.

Unless it’s raining. And maybe they’re using some weirdo priority-affecting move, or messing with your pokémon’s stats, or an item, or maybe they’re dual-type water/grass. 

Looking at you, Ludicolo. (Image via Bulbapedia)