Pokémon Go stumbled into the world less than two weeks ago and took off running, raising Nintendo’s stock by 25% and causing a global phenomena. Trainers are up until early hours or striving subtly to log into the server at work and Rattata are running rampant. As rivals rally one against the other, an ineffably mystic, valorously true, inescapable instinct unites them: “Gotta Catch ‘Em All!”
For those outside of the Pokémon loop, let me see what I can do to try to explain the hype. Do you remember a time when you wanted a pet? You were asked, say, “Would you like a dog? A cat? How about a rabbit? A snake? Let me get you a fish!”
And these are all fine, of course. You knew they were. Or, at least, maybe you know now (after all the wonderful foot-stomping, pouting dissatisfaction of youth). Your parents meant well, but you wanted a dragon. Or you wanted a pony. Or you absolutely needed a dinosaur.
Well, millennials and more instead got Pokémon, a world filled with hundreds and hundreds of creatures of all kinds. The very purpose of the game — beyond battling — is to catch all of the Pokémon, finding all of the creatures scattered throughout the world. Imagine not having to pick between pets: imagine having all of them.
And not just your average pet, either. How about a lizard with a flame on its tail? Imagine watching the light flicker in the dark as you’re up late trying to break through writers block or letting it warm your coffee after it went cold.
How about a bird whose body was the size of your own or bigger — forget its wingspan — that could fly you from Boring Town to Awesomeville in the blink of an eye. You wouldn’t have to pay a cent for gas. You could feel the wind jostle your hair, or you could tuck your head behind the bird’s mighty golden mane and seek refuge from the racing air.
Pokémon are more than pets. The game, likewise, is more than simply catch-all-the-pets. The creators may not have had in mind what Pokémon Go has become, but “Gotta Catch ‘Em All!” can no longer refer simply to Pokémon.
There are horridly cliché friendships to be caught, of course! I won’t take up much of your time on this one since it’s straightforward. I just mean to say that it’s nice to know crowds lurking down the sidewalk aren’t waiting to attack you — they want to know if you’ve seen a Pikachu down the street. Or, you know, maybe a Vaporeon.
There’s also travel and health to catch. Nothing gets you up and moving like an egg that’s going to take up space in your inventory until you get your fine self out of your chair and walk 10 kilometers. And there are worse rewards for walking than receiving a blue Loch Ness monster with a coral-armored back that can shoot freezing rays out of its mouth.
Certain Pokémon belong to certain regions, too, so the game encourages travel. People catch new sights that they would never have imagined. I remember walking down the street in Owensboro, Kentucky, and turning to check a Pokéstop (more on those later); when I looked up, I saw a mural of mirrors that formed the state of Kentucky with a shape indicating where the town was seated.
Pokéstops may be argued as one of Pokémon Go’s best features. Certainly, I expect this is where a critic apathetic toward Pokémon would concede the presence of some good merit in the game.
Pokéstops mark historic monuments and pieces of art around cities. How would you like the find the grave of one of the first American soldiers to die in World War I? What about a river made of steel that flows in twists down the side of a building in your downtown area? If you really want to get all you can out of the game — if you sincerely want to Catch ‘Em All — then make sure to look up!
The game is free. You can download it or delete it at any time if you’re a skeptic, but it may just be worth a look. Happy hunting!
