Pokémon Day 2026: You Can Be a Master if You Try!

Before we ever held the game, we were told we were chosen.

by S.C.

The promotional VHS opened with Ash telling us, “You have been selected to get a sneak peek at a new phenomenon known as Pokémon — a hit TV show, a Game Boy game, and loads of other cool things about to take America by storm.” Then came the song that rang out like a challenge: You can be a Master if you try.

It didn’t feel like marketing. It felt like an invitation.

My brothers and I must’ve watched that tape over and over. It previewed the anime, teased the world, and gave us the PokéRap before we fully understood what we were memorizing. It told us something was coming — not just a show, not just a game, but both. And when they dropped, everything shifted.

By the time my dad took us to Toys “R” Us, we weren’t discovering Pokémon. We were stepping into something we had already committed to, something we had saved holiday and birthday money for. Back then, the real games were kept in the back. We grabbed that blue and white ticket and brought it to the register, waiting while someone disappeared behind the counter and returned with the box.

I chose Blue to match my Ice Blue Game Boy Pocket, and my brother Cee chose Red to match his. It felt right, like we were choosing our lane from the very beginning. I still own that Ice Blue Pocket, and I still own my copy of Blue.

I remember bringing it to school with the link cable tucked in my backpack, rumors spreading faster than facts. Weekends at Yaya’s house where the hours stretched and no one rushed you, sitting there for hours chasing something rare enough to feel legendary.

And not long after, the cards started showing up. They weren’t part of that original VHS promise, but they quickly became part of the ritual. Binders turned into vaults. Holographics felt like holding lightning. Trades became negotiations. Pokémon wasn’t just something we played anymore. It was something we carried.

Then Yellow arrived, and the world expanded again. Pikachu followed behind you, and the anime we had memorized started blending directly into the game. It wasn’t just another version. It felt like evolution, like this thing we stepped into wasn’t staying still.

As the regions changed, so did we. The pixels sharpened. The maps grew larger. We did too.

And then in 2000 came Gold and Silver. Johto arrived in a different season of our lives. The colors felt cooler. The music felt deeper. It wasn’t just about discovering something new anymore. It felt like settling into something that had already become part of us.

One snowy day playing Pokémon Silver still stands out. The whole class was deep into Johto, shinies whispered about like myth. I remember watching snow fall outside the classroom window and counting down the minutes until I could get to Yaya’s house and continue the hunt.

The world outside was cold. Inside that tiny screen, everything was alive.

Every version after that became a shared moment — new regions, new starters, new reasons to stay up late talking about which one we were choosing. When our youngest brother was old enough, he stepped into the ritual too. It wasn’t just the two of us anymore.

We’ve been in it since the beginning — from a VHS telling us we were chosen to decades of shared launches and late-night gaming sessions.

When I think about how many regions we’ve crossed, how many launches we’ve waited up for, how many times we’ve talked or texted each other about our starter choice, I can’t help but hear that opening line again.

You can be a Master if you try.

Maybe being a master was never about badges, Pokédex numbers, or catching them all. Maybe it was about the journeys — the ones we took through Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and beyond, sitting side by side and turning them into inside jokes and memories I’ll carry long after the credits roll.

So here’s to the phenomenon that chose us first.

Thank you, Pokémon, for the adventures. For the ritual. For giving three brothers something to grow up with instead of grow out of.

Happy Anniversary.

And here’s to many more regions ahead.