The Pokémon, Gengar, haunts me till this day…
…But not in the way you may think.
I have loved Pokémon since I could ever remember. My first sentence as a kid was “buy… me… Pokémon.” in Polish. Not a question. A statement.
It’s totally plausible that as a young child, I would find this shadowy ghoul-like creature scary. Gengar’s identity in the show is a ghost that thrives on maliciously haunting people for it’s own enjoyment.
I was afraid of things like the dark at that age, but that Gengar wasn’t a problem. He’s just an asshole.
The concept of Gengar that haunts me today was born in my first playthrough of Pokémon Gold.
When people think of the G/S/C Pokémon versions of the game they wince at Whitney. She was the 3rd Gym Leader and to this day has a roaring reputation of being the most difficult Gym Leader in the whole Pokémon franchise. Ask anyone who has played the game when they were younger. They’d tell you her Cow Pokémon, Miltank, was the symbol of nightmares.
While I had difficulties with her, I got lucky. It was Morty and Gengar at the 4th gym that gave me real trouble. The sheer respect I had for this battle had me shaking in fear and sweating from the armpits. It was the first time I ever felt a droplet form and then roll down the inside of my arm. As my body let me know, Morty was out of my league. Rather, I wasn’t up to the Pokémon League’s standards.
After I lost, I continued to challenge that damn gym dozens of times with no luck. His Gengar would constantly put my Pokémon to sleep before tormenting my whole party one by one. In retrospect, buying Awakening Potions from the Pokémart was a good idea. I had no strategy skills back then. I was young and dumb.
Like any brainless little kid, I knew what my game plan was… I grinded. I was the best pest control the Johto Region has ever seen. Rattatas. Zubats. Spinaraks. You have a problem? I’ll kill it for the sweet, sweet EXP. I defeated all the trainers I could find as well. The rematch system in generation 2 proved to be quite helpful. I also made sure to talk to the NPCs and clean the map of items in case there was a rare candy.
I left no stone unturned. Almost everything you could do up to that point, besides beating Morty and his Gengar, was done. For some reason, with my level 30 Feraligatr, I was still terrified of a level 25 Gengar. It wasn’t until I taught him the move ice punch that I felt like I was ready.
With newfound courage and gusto I stormed into his gym. Little kid dick energy at best, but it was out and about nonetheless. Two ice punches was all it took. Feraligatr knocked Gengar out cold. Fainted.
A triumphant, overqualified finish. It is my first core memory of a persistence through struggle where I was truly challenged. Why would Gengar still haunt me?
The quote “You do not truly know someone until you fight them” from The Matrix movie has truth to it. While fighting someone physically could be risky, I have found that you can learn about someone through their video game playstyle. Some people take a walk in the park for self reflection or try to find themselves through meditation. I like to create reasons that video games have a place as a positive use of my time. I tend to look at my own digital footprints. With electronic history, I can draw comparisons to my real life and power a deeper understanding of myself. Thus, I must play games.
I can draw a lot of conclusions from the desperate, one-sided war of attrition against Gengar. I’ll keep it simple to avoid grasping at straws. If I come into contact with an immovable object, I then aim to be the unstoppable force in order to see who is lying. Grandiose with intent as its meaning is a lot less sexy. With glaring confidence issues, I over prepare for the adversities that call upon me in life, as I glare back in binary understanding.
To quote the great Samurai, Musashi Miyamoto “You must understand that there is more than one path to the top of the mountain.” To those that hope for a straight forward and objective answer to life like myself, its ambiguity is overwhelming… But I can find comfort in it, too. It can mean that my past actions will always yield remnants of a “right path”. I stick to the extreme of being prepared, but moderation may prove useful.
If you read this far, I took a lot of detours. Welcome back.
Gengar haunts me because I get behind in life by avoiding my problems until I have done everything I could besides deal with the actual problem.
Huh, even the way I choose to explain things follow suit.
So now, I am older. I no longer have that excuse to fall back on. I can strategize. I have reflected, observed, then analyzed. I can move forward with the goals that I fantasize —
— Until I hit the next immovable object: The words “Think before you do.” burned into my mind by my father.
That’s next.