Before Pokemon Scarlet and Violet were released, I actually decided to “catch them all” – now I hate myself

When I was eight years old, I introduced Pokémon to the playground. I just watched the first episode of the anime on SM:TV Live and forced my friends into imaginary Pokémon battles. I forgot the names of many Pokémon, so fights were like a mismatch like Onix vs Rockadock (which I later found out was called Geodude).

By December, the playground is full of trading cards, toys and games. On Christmas morning, I opened a copy of Pokémon Blue and commandeered my brother’s Game Boy to stare into the green abyss for days, only to stop and change the battery.

In retrospect, it was an incredible moment when Pokémon appeared almost out of nowhere and took the country by storm. Then, as soon as it arrived, the craze died down. I remember when Silver and Gold was released in 2001, I was still very enthusiastic about it. But by the 3rd generation, I couldn’t care less.

But when COVID 2020 hit and my immune system was like a sad potato, I suddenly had time. Isolated, I caught up with a franchise I’ve only been involved in since the early 2000s. A year later, I finally finished Pokédex for Pokémon Blue. It only took 21 years to catch 151 Pokémon, not to mention that, by then, there were fewer than 900 baby bats roaming around.

Well, Covid really hit me a few weeks ago and turned me into a coughing, hacking mess. I was trying to find something to play with my befuddled mind, only the monotony of Pokémon Shield broke my virus elimination. The quest to find a way to throw Hop down a well is enough to dispel the haze caused by Covid.

When my pictorial was organically filled and news of scarlet and violet started to drop in earnest, an idea hit me. “What if,” I asked in feverish delirium, “I did. catch them

After all, modern games in the series have access to so many Pokémon, and between Shield, an abandoned legend: Arceus, and 151 blue Pokémon, I’ve probably had most of them.

correct? correct?

Before you suggest that I make bad life decisions, please remember that I was curled up in bed with a fever and coughing like I’ve smoked 40 cigarettes a day all my life. What better location to gain rigorous clarity and plan major projects? Let us know, though, that I have a history of making…questionable decisions.

Anyway, driven by the hubris caused by COVID, I started this project.I probably only had meaningful familiarity with the game when the Pokémon were animals and not animals *check note* A loving cup of tea, but I have the willpower and perseverance to succeed. Plus, I’m really sick. So you can’t judge me.

If I’m going to catch them, I need a way to track my progress. So, I signed up for Pokémon House and set aside some boxes for the Pokédex of my life. That means I have to catch every Pokémon. All of them. There is no reason.

Did I mention that I have poor judgment?

Bumped into Shield, caught 200 Buizels in Legends: Arceus (none of which were considered bulky enough), and 151 from Blue, and my home instantly filled with over 700 indentured pets.

Make me sad – please do this, I deserve it now – but as I watch those boxes fill up, I start to look forward to carefully moving my Pokémon into an apparent order.

But that’s a task for later, when I can peruse the box like a deranged, caffeine-addicted Oak professor with bags under his eyes and stimulants tucked away in his lab coat pocket.Now, I’m back with the Shield and my trusty level 90 Urshifu (I still only use animals, which is a bit too beauty and the Beast fight with a live candle or a bag of trash) and carve a bloody strip on Galar’s Pokémon.

Some may be harder than others. For example, collection initiators often require multiple restarts. But now people give them away in surprise deals or rigged Dynamax encounters. Sword and shield are broken. Veterans can guess the site responsible for accidentally trading me over 20 shiny Snorlax.

A major obstacle for little Jeffrey trying to collect Pokémon is trade evolution. Before, the troublesome cables and back-and-forth deals were just so your blue man could grow an extra arm. Now, with the internet allowing us to trade with the least amount of hassle (well, Nintendo’s least deal, whatever), Game Freak has new ways to torment us.

“Please, sir,” the studio said in the best Oliver Twist voice. “Walking under an arch when a Pokémon takes more than 49 damage.”

Doubts began to spread.

With COVID finally getting tired of asking my poor immune system why it’s attacking itself, I finally moved to Pokémon House. I’ve built my list since Gen 1, leaving a blank space for all the Pokémon I’ve lost.

It’s tedious, but I’ve filed my own taxes before, so I’m used to the monotony. This is also an apt comparison given the fundamental mistakes I made (according to my accountant). This is an omen, folks.

Nintendo will never make organizing Home unintuitive and nightmare. Unlike having to pick up every Pokémon and move them through your box. If you’re lucky, you can string a few together and migrate them en masse, but that’s mostly a case of X, Y, down, “sort by National Dex number” and manually scrambled for each Pokémon. Like a farm worker, or a battery farmer.

It was boring, but when I got the hang of it it became almost therapeutic. The easy break-in of moving animals around the computer against your will.

Until I didn’t leave room for Hisuian Arcanine.

You might say I’m stupid to include the area table – you’d be right. Maybe if Nintendo/Game Freak allowed us to insert spaces in the box, that would be fine too. But the developers didn’t do that, did they?

It didn’t go catastrophically wrong until Pokémon #59.

I was promised. Honest. Piety, even. I want a proper picture book. But, before you start questioning what to do with your life, you can do some weird twirling while turning a piece of fruit into a feel-good dollop of cream. There are only so many times that you can turn the squid upside down for a few minutes before you catch a glimpse of yourself on the Switch screen and frown. There are only so many ways to Google “how this Pokémon evolved” that will make you cry.

That space—in the early days of Pokédex—has troubled me.

A small mistake instantly destroyed my ambition to become a Pokémon master. Maybe, if I don’t make it, this illustrated book might teach me some valuable lessons – maybe it will change my life.

But I made this mistake and the only thing it taught me was that I hated myself.

No, that’s not true; I’ve learned that my sense of commitment is fragile, at best. I know I can’t reliably count to more than three. I know there are too many Pokémon.

Pokémon are everywhere. In the Shield, my phone is a Pokémon, my computer is a Pokémon, and my apple is a dragon Pokémon is a problem. It’s like that weird collective moment when we don’t know what’s a cake and what’s not.

A mistake turns Pokémon from a fun kids game into an existential crisis in which Pokémon is just one song away from “Don’t Hold Me I’m Scared”.

So, my count is still 712 out of 904 – that’s where it goes.

But it’s not all bad. This ill-conceived project has me replaying and re-evaluating Pokémon Shield, bringing me back to Legend: Arceus, and letting me admit that Let’s Go’s control is the devil.

It may have been a disappointing ending, but I had fun playing the game. Can I say I’m having a good time as a gamer? Or will this make me a fool for Nintendo, or what?

Despite the marketing lines and the little refrain that’s been on our minds since the ’90s, finally, I wonder if we should catch them all? Maybe back in 1999, when we were all unrecognizable and bored, this was achievable—even fun! But now that goal feels out of reach.

Maybe the real Pokémon journey is — and always will be — the hordes of intelligent animals we enslave along the way?