I still play Pokémon like an aggressive child and I regret nothing
Pokémon Diamond and Pearl were released almost a decade and a half ago, introducing players to the Sinnoh region for the first time. Their remakes Pokémon Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl were released four weeks ago on the Nintendo Switch. In the 15 years between these releases, I have graduated high school, completed two degrees, switched careers, and changed my mind about olives.
I have also shown absolutely no growth concerning how I play Pokémon.
Pokémon is a phenomenally popular, theoretically strategic video game franchise. In theory, players catch various supernaturally powered critters and make them battle each other, assessing the strengths and weaknesses of each to help determine favourable match-ups. For example, Fire-type Pokémon are strong against Grass-type but weak against Water-type, while Water-type are weak against Grass-type. It's all very "Circle of Life." Theoretically, players strive to "catch 'em all," building a menagerie of Pokémon to suit any occasion or encounter.
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Yet I choose to ignore such compatibility issues. Yes, abducting hundreds of living, sentient creatures from their natural habitats has its joys. Yes, it is satisfying to target an opponent's weakness and watch their health bar plummet, like a scathing teen stabbing directly at their victim's insecurities. Still, I largely favour cutting the Gordian knot.
I don't need a huge collection of tools for a million different occasions. I just need one, and it is called "hitting so hard that I vaporise both my enemy and the seven generations that came before them."
One punch Pokémon
Much as it is in real life, I've found that the vigorous application of overwhelming violence can solve a myriad of problems in Pokémon. Water may douse fire, but a puddle cannot halt an inferno. Thus, my sole strategy for Pokémon Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl remains unchanged from what it was in Pokémon Diamond and Pearl, which in turn stands untouched since 1998's Pokémon Red and Blue.
I simply use my one Fire-type starter Pokémon for every single battle, training them up until they're so ridiculously powerful and over-levelled that not even naturally flame-resistant Pokémon can withstand their wrath.
It's the Pokémon equivalent of completely neglecting leg day in favour of having the most swole arms in human history. Other Pokémon may occasionally make an appearance on the battlefield, switching it up for a bit of variety. Yet even then, my large adult flamey boi is always lurking menacingly in the background, an overprotective older sibling ready to jump in if things go wrong.
Is such extreme favouritism what Game Freak envisaged when they first developed Pokémon's gameplay? Probably not. But nobody is going to come for the guy with the Christmas hams for forearms.
Of course, I could choose the Water- or Grass-type starters instead of always going for the Fire-type. I imagine they'd take to my pragmatic approach to Pokémon training just as well. However, I was not banned from playing with water or grass as a child. Further, several Fire-type attacks have the added bonus of occasionally inflicting burns — one of the only circumstances in which I bother with moves that inflict status effects.
I'll make this quick
Pokémon's status moves are another layer of carefully crafted strategy which I have carefully chosen to ignore. Each Pokémon has up to four moves that they can use in battle, some of which may be status moves. These abilities don't immediately or directly inflict damage on a targeted Pokémon, but instead apply a status effect such as raising their defence, lowering their attack power, or even confusing them.
This is all well and good if you expect the battle to last for a while. I do not. I have places to go, Pokémon to kidnap, and many small children to brutally humiliate. Why put someone to sleep temporarily when I could put them to sleep permanently?
I'm well aware that using status moves can give you a slight advantage. For example, paralysing Pokémon reduces their speed, and gives it a 25 percent chance of being unable to attack. Frankly, those odds aren't good enough for me. If you were in a bar fight and there was a 25 percent chance your esteemed colleague would stop swinging if you just stood still and left yourself open, you would not take that chance.
It's the same with Pokémon. There's still a much larger 75 percent chance a paralysed Pokémon will happily kick my ass if given half the opportunity, so I have absolutely no intention of providing one. It would be different if they wanted to stop the fighting. But if the only thing preventing them from trying to send me on a house visit to Hell is the fact that they're momentarily physically incapable of it, then I'm not going to feel sorry about punching them in their squishy little face.
That isn't to say status effects don't have their place. My favourite damage moves always have an additional chance to paralyse, poison, or otherwise hinder my opponent (just one of many reasons I favour fire). However, this is always a pleasant side effect rather than the end goal, the icing on the grievous bodily harm cake.
While I have been known to intentionally poison or burn an enemy without simultaneously swiping away a chunk of their health, this typically only occurs when I have the time and inclination to watch them die slowly. This usually happens when my Pokémon are already large and strong enough that my prey's death throes barely scratch them — pitiful, futile splashing as their heads are held underwater. It's an enjoyable pastime rather than a means to an end.
The best defense is a good offense, and the best offense is also a good offense. I'm not going to be sitting around singing to my enemy when I could be punching them, or scratching them, or lighting them on fire. Nor am I going to ponder what type of Pokémon they are, or which of my acolytes would be best suited to dispatching them.
I am a god, and a god does not concern themselves with whether mortals brandish sticks or stones. You lived by my whim. Now I choose to unmake you.
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