Monday, October 11, 1999
Adults aliens on Planet Pokemon
BY DAVE HOFMEISTER
The Cincinnati Enquirer
A quiz for parents with grade-school-age kids: When Squirtle evolves, it changes into what? Give up?
Here's an easier one: Whose pictures are on millions of trading cards that kids are snapping up as fast as they can be printed?
If you said Sean Casey, Barry Bonds or Sammy Sosa, you're in the wrong game, wrong generation.
Today, the talk in elementary schools everywhere is Pokemon. Kids are toting Pokemon cards to school to trade, play and show off. The commotion they create has prompted bans in some schools.
As a parent with two sons (Kenny, age 10, and Daniel, 7), I've learned a little about these “pocket monsters.” The rules of the game are complicated, and I've taken a stab at learning how to play.
But when the boys go into detail about how a “confused” Pokemon can't retreat, or why some “attacks” involve coin flips, my head spins. (My teen-age daughter, Katie, would say: “TMI!” — too much information).
But on a recent Saturday I drove the boys to Florence, where Planet Collectibles was staging a Pokemon trading fest. It wasn't advertised. And it didn't need to be.
The store, and a back room about the size of a two-car garage, were packed. Kids crowded around three rows of tables, whipping through binders full of Pokemon cards, dealing with the confidence of stock traders. Some just dropped to the floor and spread out cards for other traders to ogle. Kids floated from one group to another under the watchful eyes of store employees, who placed a name tag on each trader, including age, so they could monitor the dealing and make sure older kids did not take advantage.
The room was hot and noisy, but the kids — mainly 6- to 11-year-olds — approached their trading seriously. When an employee announced that free pizza and pop were ready, a lot of kids barely noticed. (Free pizza? Not till I close this deal for the Nidoqueen card.)
As amusing as it was to watch the kids, marveling at their trading savvy and their mastery of Pokemon's strange language, I couldn't help but notice the parents. We looked like we'd just landed on the planet Zardon. We stood along the walls, exchanging bewildered looks.
Mark Kinman, who owns the store, told me later he's not surprised that kids flock to the game, despite its arcane rules and weird characters.
“Kids seem wired to understand this stuff,” he said. “They're sharp with it.”
My son, Kenny, offers this simple explanation of Pokemon's allure: “Girls like them because they're cute. Boys like them because they can battle.”
And there's this: Kids love knowing what adults don't.
This can be a good thing. We've seen what happens when adults get involved with collecting kids' stuff. Do we really need another “Beanie Baby” craze for grown-ups to take over?
The Wall Street Journal recently took note of the Pokemon craze, recounting how parents intervened when their kids' trades went awry. One 7-year-old was rebuked for trading away Carl Yastrzemski and Pete Rose baseball cards for a prized Pokemon card.
Please. Let's let the kids have fun. Sure, explain fair trading to them, teach them the value of patience, buy them a booklet on card prices.
Then, let's stand back and let them enjoy the world of Magikarps and Wigglytuffs. If they make a bad trade, let it stand. It's their game, their cards and their language.
And just so you know. Squirtle becomes Wartortle. Wartortle becomes Blastoise.
TMI!
Dave Hofmeister is an assistant local news editor at the Enquirer. He collects cards, too — decks of playing cards with corporate logos that, thankfully, have little or no trading value.
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