For the past 15 years, I’ve been on a journey. It started on Christmas Day ’98, when Santa left a little red cartridge in my stocking, emblazoned with a fearsome, fire-breathing dragon. I popped it into my Game Boy, flipped the power switch on, and unknowingly embarked on a quest that continues to this day. The goal? To catch ’em all. Yeah, I may be of drinking age and working toward my bachelor’s, but that comes second to my biggest priority: to become a Pokémon master.
