(Continued from the Pokémon FireRed Review...)
After a solid Pokémon FireRed experience, my Twilight Princess buddy and I decided to take on a game together. Knowing neither of us would’ve been satisfied with the then-recent offerings, we decided on Pokémon Crystal for the Game Boy Color via the Nintendo 3DS Virtual Console. Crystal is perhaps the most lovingly crafted game in the series. Not that I’ve played the rest, I just can’t imagine it gets quite so thoughtful ever again (be sure to let me know if I’m wrong about that). As more thorough historians have pointed out, Pokémon’s second generation began development before the series exploded into a multi-bajillion dollar religion, and was the last to feature series creator Satoshi Tajiri as director. Judging by the nature of his two games compared to the stuff that followed, I have no choice but to conclude that I like this guy. His modest settings demonstrate a desire to simply provide his players a miniature, cutely idealistic neighborhood or countryside to get lost in. Where later sequels would achieve plastic doll house-ishness and Barbie-worthy Pokémon Center exterior architecture (even in FireRed), their earlier iterations were contained within charmingly ordinary little brick houses. Tajiri’s regions were places that looked like they might exist somewhere, only, they also happened to include Pokémon (Generation 2’s story even implies that its 100 new monsters just sorta…showed up all of the sudden). I hadn’t exactly been playing Pokémon according to Tajiri’s vision until this point, but that was about to change.
Nowadays, you can hurl your unwanted rat into the aether and even grab Super Duper Ultra Awesome Legendary goldfish online via special events, and while I’m not opposed to the inclusion of internet functionality, I do think (as the foremost authority on the subject) that this sort of thing does sort of go against the spirit of these games. Without another means of grabbing Alakazam, Gengar, or Golem, my friend got ahold of a Kadabra and a Haunter for me, and I trained him a Graveler. When we traded and unlocked their final evolutions, it felt like we’d broken the game. We progressed through Crystal in parallel, battling intermittently, swapping tips, and having a generally good time. Before long, my Lavos (Cyndaquil) had become a Typhlosion, and the end was nigh. Taking on the Elite Four and its Champion was quickly succeeded by the final battle against my true, real-world Rival. I still feel kinda bad about abusing Sleep Powder, though he insists it was totally fair game.
I knew there was a whole post-game section ahead of me, possibly the most memorable in the series’ long history, but after that experience, I was completely satisfied. Believe it or not, I continue to be. I’d finished Pokémon, gone out with a bang, and felt safe in the knowledge that I understood firsthand why the entire world holds Bulbasaur so close to its heart.
Just don’t ever ask me for anything ever again.
After a solid Pokémon FireRed experience, my Twilight Princess buddy and I decided to take on a game together. Knowing neither of us would’ve been satisfied with the then-recent offerings, we decided on Pokémon Crystal for the Game Boy Color via the Nintendo 3DS Virtual Console. Crystal is perhaps the most lovingly crafted game in the series. Not that I’ve played the rest, I just can’t imagine it gets quite so thoughtful ever again (be sure to let me know if I’m wrong about that). As more thorough historians have pointed out, Pokémon’s second generation began development before the series exploded into a multi-bajillion dollar religion, and was the last to feature series creator Satoshi Tajiri as director. Judging by the nature of his two games compared to the stuff that followed, I have no choice but to conclude that I like this guy. His modest settings demonstrate a desire to simply provide his players a miniature, cutely idealistic neighborhood or countryside to get lost in. Where later sequels would achieve plastic doll house-ishness and Barbie-worthy Pokémon Center exterior architecture (even in FireRed), their earlier iterations were contained within charmingly ordinary little brick houses. Tajiri’s regions were places that looked like they might exist somewhere, only, they also happened to include Pokémon (Generation 2’s story even implies that its 100 new monsters just sorta…showed up all of the sudden). I hadn’t exactly been playing Pokémon according to Tajiri’s vision until this point, but that was about to change.
Nowadays, you can hurl your unwanted rat into the aether and even grab Super Duper Ultra Awesome Legendary goldfish online via special events, and while I’m not opposed to the inclusion of internet functionality, I do think (as the foremost authority on the subject) that this sort of thing does sort of go against the spirit of these games. Without another means of grabbing Alakazam, Gengar, or Golem, my friend got ahold of a Kadabra and a Haunter for me, and I trained him a Graveler. When we traded and unlocked their final evolutions, it felt like we’d broken the game. We progressed through Crystal in parallel, battling intermittently, swapping tips, and having a generally good time. Before long, my Lavos (Cyndaquil) had become a Typhlosion, and the end was nigh. Taking on the Elite Four and its Champion was quickly succeeded by the final battle against my true, real-world Rival. I still feel kinda bad about abusing Sleep Powder, though he insists it was totally fair game.
I knew there was a whole post-game section ahead of me, possibly the most memorable in the series’ long history, but after that experience, I was completely satisfied. Believe it or not, I continue to be. I’d finished Pokémon, gone out with a bang, and felt safe in the knowledge that I understood firsthand why the entire world holds Bulbasaur so close to its heart.
Just don’t ever ask me for anything ever again.