Reddit reviews The Official Pokemon Handbook

Not OP, but here's my story about why Pokémon Blue is (tied as) my favorite game:

Spring 1999: I am eight years old, and Pokémon is subtly beginning to prod my cultural consciousness. Kids in the second grade are beginning to bring cards to school, and although I don't understand the numbers or detailed information they present, I find the artwork compelling. A boy named Ryan gives me few duplicates he has: energies, weak commons, trainer cards. I become vaguely aware of something called a “Pikachu” and notice it starting to appear on Pop-Tart boxes and magazine displays when I accompany my mother to the grocery store. I wonder if it is male or female. Occasionally, I catch snippets of the anime series on T.V. as my brother and I flipp through the channels, looking for Disney or Nickelodeon. The art style reminds me of Dragon Ball Z, but it isn't violent enough to hold my attention.

Summer 1999: My grandmother, previously a kindergarten teacher and now a principal in another state, visits our home in Kentucky. She brings a copy of a book that had been popular at her recent Scholastic School Book Fair as a gift: the Official Pokémon Handbook. By now, I know the yellow clown-mouse on the front is Pikachu, but the T.V. show has still not drawn me in. I tentatively flip through the book and scan the scientific-sounding descriptions, for the first time genuinely intrigued by the concept of Pokémon. I ask my mom if I can use my allowance to buy Pokémon cards. I am still not aware that a Pokémon video game exists.

Late Summer 1999: Soccer practice. I am terrible at soccer, and my father’s work schedule means that I am dropped off at the soccer field an hour or more before practice starts. While I wait, I read the Official Pokémon Handbook. Later, I supplement my reading with a promotional pamphlet describing the Pokémon TCG and a couple of fan magazines I convinced my mother to buy. One day, a boy at the soccer field is playing a Game Boy with a bright red cartridge. I ask about it, and he points at my magazines. I ask to play it, and he says no. Returning home, I ask my mother she can buy me the game, and she says no.

Fall 1999: I return to school, an academic Pokémon Master, still having not played the game. I can recite virtually all of the information from the Official Pokémon Handbook, and I raise my finger like Professor Oak when doing so. A friend quizzes me, asking if I can name a legendary Pokémon. I say “Arcanine” and he laughs. Joke’s on him, because I pull out my dog-eared book and open to Arcanine’s info page, where he is described as “Legendary”. My friend backs off, saying that’s not what he meant.

December 1999: My mother knows that my favorite color is green, so I am confused when she asks if I like red or blue the best. Cooler Ranch Doritos are preferable to Nacho Cheese Doritos, so I say blue. I receive no Doritos and am disappointed.

Christmas 1999: I am no longer disappointed. I get Blue Version and my brother gets Yellow. When I understand the difference later, I am envious, but for now my game is emblazoned with a goddamn Cannon Turtle (“Blastoise: the shellfish pokémon,” I say, finger raised) while his has the clown-mouse, which was never my favorite.

2000-present: I am enthralled.

Basically, Pokémon represented the first time that I felt consciously that my identity was developing as a consequence of my appreciation for and knowledge of something external to my experience. I was part of a community that discussed this topic, that traded strategies and tactics, that speculated on the mysteries of yet-undiscovered regions and creatures. It was a game that rewarded dedication, and I was a dedicated child. That tenacity and curiosity began to pay off as things I had previously ignored or been confused by, such as the television show or the card game, began to open up to me. The show didn’t have to be another Dragon Ball Z because it was about friendship and faith in yourself and your allies. The card game wasn’t just about art, but rather, the artwork concealed a whole pool of strategy and the inevitable friendships that could come about by way of discussing that strategy.

I still remember the first time I encountered someone who built a deck with a strategy more complex than just putting the strongest cards in front of him.

“My whole deck is set up so I control which Pokémon my opponent has in play,” he said, showing me how and Dark Machoke’s Drag Off and Machamp’s Fling could be used to determine which Pokémon his opponent used. He was older, maybe 14. I was impressed.

And this continued basically until the present day. I still return to Pokémon Blue on an annual basis, trying to relive that sense of excitement and discovery that I felt 17 years ago. That feeling is diminished every time I play, but it never disappears completely.

The only other game that comes close is Morrowind, and that’s a story for another time.

MY CONSTANT NEED FOR ALL THINGS POKEMON HAS MADE MY WALLET CRY THIS MONTH.

ANYWAY, BACK ON TOPIC... I NEVER EXPERIENCED POKEMON LIKE THAT BECAUSE I HAD THE POKEMON HANDBOOK. IT WOULD BE PRETTY COOL TO GO IN BLIND, BUT I WORRY I'D END UP REGRETTING MY TEAM CHOICES. AND YEAH, THE WANTING ALL THE INFORMATION NOW THING AS WELL. SO I'LL PROBABLY NEVER EXPERIENCE THAT.

My girlfriend didn't know who the fuck Charizard was. She got this for Christmas that year.

I had this one and this one

I honestly can't believe how much that first one is worth now o.O wish I would have taken better care of mine.