25 Years of Pokémon, 28 Years of Me. Our Journey Together.

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I can still smell through memory, the hot south Italian summer air, mid afternoon and sweet sun burned leaves. Me and two Giuseppes are playing with our Game Boy (why boy by the way?). Or with our cousin Marco. Pokémon red, Pokémon blue, Pokémon yellow…and my Pokémon crystal.

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Tank tops, burned shoulders. Small teen faces and bodies. Flat chest, all of us.

Now Giuseppe has muscly pecs, and puberty grew some for me too. On Sunday mornings, all well dressed and cheap-perfumed, we would go to our local “cartoleria” and buy some cards. I will never forget that time my cousin Marco forced me to visit an old auntie of his, because he knew she would leave him 2 euros, maybe 2.50. He then forced me to buy Pokémon cards, and before going home, we grabbed some mix nuts from a street vendor (from an actual ape truck) for after the Sunday lunch. Meatballs, dark sauce, steak and sour salty salad. Pokémon games in the afternoon.

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