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Like hundreds of children across the world, Ash Ketchum left his hometown at the age of ten years old to become a Pokémon Master. Nearly thirty years later, he hasn’t aged a bit.
It’s what everyone who’s ever known Ketchum says about him: ‘He hasn't aged a bit.’
From childhood friends who had accompanied him on the road, to old rivals who taught him a lesson, to gym leaders who’d watched his ascent, from people who had ‘heard-from-their-neighbor’s-buddy
-who-was-there-to-see-it’ feats of greatness, as he transformed from one of those hundreds of children who leave their hometown on their Pokémon quests, to becoming The Ash Ketchum.
‘He hasn't aged a bit.' Echos the waitress of the Green Spoon diner in Viridian City, as she regales me with a story from when the Champion first came to the diner as a boy. The modestly sized eatery is a shrine for Ketchum fans, after he held a celebratory dinner with his mother and closest friends after his first World Championship Win.
Photos and newspaper clippings of Ketchum's exploits adorn the walls, the Mr. Mime who helps take lunch shifts belongs to his mother, regulars who prove their relation to Ketchum often get comped, and the Alakazam who works behind the grill was caught by him fourteen years ago.
It’s one of the few places in the world where Ketchum is a somewhat regular sight. Where despite the constant line of fans outside the front doors and few, relatively new but vehement, sect of protestors (a sign on the door says “No fans of the champ are to disturb him inside. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.”), Ketchum can usually find a safe haven of quiet.
It’s where the door to the kitchen swings open, and a sprightly and weatherbeaten Pikachu bounds onto the lunch counter, its yellow fur catching the start of the golden hour light spilling through the large diner windows.
The Pikachu cries out happily, earning some scratches behind the ear from the cashier while other diners and staff line up to fawn over the most famous Pikachu on the planet. The kitchen doors swing open again and Ash Ketchum saunters through in well-worn jeans, a t-shirt and light jacket combo, and a hat, as though he was entering a Pokémon stadium.
He may not know any other way to enter a room.
‘Hey Marni, how's things?’ he asks the cashier. He goes down the line of regulars sitting at the bar, inquiring about their lives (‘I like your haircut Wendy, it looks good!’, ‘Hey Kyle, how’s that new book coming along?’ ‘Hey Johnny, heard you got a home run in your last game? Awesome!’) while Pikachu follows the same route, collecting more pats and compliments from the diners.
Despite the pressures of being Champion, he makes time for everyone. Despite over twenty-five years of wear and tear from his occupation, he doesn’t look remotely close to being in his mid thirties. Despite this being the first interview he’s given in months since his last, very controversial public appearance, he approaches the booth I’m sitting at, Pikachu jumping from the bar and onto his shoulder, and extends his hand out in greeting.
‘Hi! I’m Ash, what’s your name?’ He asks.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ketchum is a bag of contradictions.
The first one, is despite his legendary list of achievements that continues to grow nearly daily, he does very little goal setting.
‘I’ve always felt the saying should be “The more things stay the same, the more they change”.’ he says, scratching his oldest friend's head, who’s curled up on the table happily licking at some ketchup. ‘Everyday, I go out there with the same goal I’ve had since I was 10 years old, and everyday it’s a whole new game. Nothing outside this day matters.’
It may just be a superpower he has to tackle every mounting obstacle he faces on a day by day basis, but this year sees him jumping into far more unknowns than any sane person would want.
After winning back his Monarch World Champion title for the third time in his career last year, the Indigo League Commission has seen fit to have Ketchum run the Viridian Gym after the passing of the longtime leader Giovanni. He’ll also begin co-managing the illustrious Oak Pokémon Reservation and Lab alongside Gary Oak and Tracy Sketchit, finally give in to a variety of sponsorship and brand deals (everything from sneaker brands to Poke-toys) and still continue his trademark nomadic approach to Pokémon catching and training when he can.
From affecting a new generations' round of Starter Pokémon at the Oak Reservation, his influence as a new Gym Leader, and of course, his status as a 3-time World Champion, critics and rivals alike have been wary, even hostile towards Ketchum’s multilevel influence on the League and Pokémon Training as a whole.
While those negative voices are loud, they are certainly in the minority, and often drown out by an even bigger subject of conversation that's been hanging around Ketchum for the past few years: his alleged secret marriage.
‘No, sorry, but there’s really nothing to say there. There's never been a secret wedding, there's no secret wife.' he laughs. There’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile ghosting his face that feels like it’s an answer, but frankly, there’s always a glint in his eye and a smile on his face.
Which leads to his second contradiction; he has the charm, personality, and way with words to run for office, but he is markedly private. He isn’t the biggest fan of talking about himself or his close friends and family (especially his family) and silent on matters not pertaining to his current Pokémon training happenings.
Unfortunately for him, this call for privacy has only fueled the rumor machine, especially pertaining to whom the Champ’s supposed paramour is.
The list of accomplished women Ketchum has worked with is nearly endless: the Fourth Sensational Sister and Water Pokémon Master Misty Waterflower, the great Pokémon coordinators May Maple and Dawn Berlitz, Unova Champion and Dragon Pokémon Master Iris Emerald, Pokémon Performer extraordinaire Serena Yvonne are just a few favorite targets of gossip columns and online blogs dedicated to speculation of Ketchum’s love life.
And to be completely fair, who can blame them for such speculation?
Attractive, accomplished, always supportive of one another, Ketchum and his friends are to paparazzi like a wild Dragonite is to a trainer, always hunting for a rare shot of a potential stolen glance, lingering touch, a shared smile between Ketchum and the women in his life.
‘It’s tiring.’ he says ‘They’re all my friends, they’re all great Pokémon trainers and great people without me, but everyone makes such a big deal about us potentially “being a thing”. It’s such a discredit to them, I really wish everyone obsessing over it would cut it out.’
A small grimace plasters his face suddenly.
'If they did, I probably wouldn't be dealing with so much crap right now.'
‘Aaaaannddd here we are Champ!’
Ketchum is brought out of his stupor by the arrival of our meal, our waitress laiden with a tray holding a titanic amount of food.
‘A fries and onion rings combo, a cheeseburger, a chocolate milkshake, a meatloaf and gravy, some double fried chicken, a lime rickey and spam musubi!’ lists our waitress, plopping down each item in front of Ketchum, eyes alight with joy at the sight of his personal feast.
‘Aaandd an all day breakfast special for you dear! Enjoy!’ finished our waitress, placing my single order in front of me.
‘Thanks Brenda, you’re the best!’ exclaimed Ketchum, his Pokémon companion echoing his thanks. Then he proceeds to wolf the meal down like it’s going to run away if he doesn't digest it fast enough.
Another contradiction; arguably one of the fittest, healthiest people on the planet eats like a slob.
‘If I had to do something else it’d probably be some sort of cook.’ he says, scraping the last of the gravy from one of his empty plates, while Pikachu nibbles away at the French fries saved exclusively for him. ‘Between Brock [Harrison] and my moms cooking, I’ve picked up a few things. Maybe I could have made something out of that if I didn’t follow my Pokémon trainer path but…’
He just snorts at the absurd thought of him not being a Pokémon trainer.
Before reaching nineteen years old Ketchum had participated in over 8 regional championships, hundreds of municipal tournaments, and even climbed the Mount Coronet of the competitive Pokémon scene, claiming first place in the World Championship.
In the interim time, records indicate that he’s captured just under a third of all known Pokémon in existence, amassed a collection of Pokémon Gym badges, to where if he wanted to, could destabilize the talent pipeline of any major league by simply giving out their gym badges, and has gone back to win every regional tournament he didn’t win on his first try.
In the nearly three decades of his professional career, Ketchum has been hounded at every corner about the secret to his success; what makes him better than arguably any living trainer? And through it all, he’s given the same answer. In fact, he’s given the same answer, for so many years, a bemused smile creeps onto his face and asks me back, ‘You really want to hear me say it again?’
I say yes, and he asks ‘Why? Answer hasn’t changed in nearly twenty years.’
Maybe I’ll catch on to something others haven't before. ‘Oh yeah?’ he says, a competitive edge in his voice.
I say yes, and he smirks.
Pikachu chimes in, with an exasperated look on his face ‘Pikachupipi!’ (Shut up and answer!)
Ketchum laughs, and begins to recite the same response he’s been giving for almost half his life. ‘You need to be the best coach you can be. In a Pokémon battle, you don’t do anything, your Pokémon, your team, do all the heavy lifting. You need to know when to apply pressure, when to relax, when to rely on their strength, or lean more into their grit. You need to know your Pokémon’s wants, needs, fears, and you need to know that it's not about you, it’s about them.’
As if on cue, there’s a tap on our window.
Just as iconic as his Pikachu, Ketchum’s Charizard taps the window gently with a talon. The powerful dragon Pokémon lets out a low rumbles from its throat, and Ketchum jumps up from his seat.
‘Charizard! Hang on a second buddy, let me grab a snack for you.’ he said, rushing to the counter to order some food for his Fire Type. Pikachu cracks open the window to jump on his old friend's snout, scampering up its neck to rest on the dragon Pokémons head.
The two Pokémon chat with one another like only life long friends could. Even though I couldn’t understand them, I could feel the flow of their conversation go from greeting, to asking how things are, to light teasing, to catching up.
The contingent of fans (and even the few protesters) went wild at the sight of two of Ketchum’s most legendary Pokémon, hoping their appearance would mean the champ was to appear soon.
Ketchum walks from the diner counter to the front, a small side of beef draped over his shoulder and a large bucket of water in his other hand. He gently kicks the door open and out into the front of the diner: the crowd gets their champ.
Ketchum wades through the mob, excusing himself to his people with a movie star smile, trying to not accidentally hit someone with the beef or water he was carrying and initiate another slew of bad press for him.
One sign from a protestor breaks his composure into a Feralligator like leer, ‘Ketchum’s in Rockets Pockets!’ but he tears his eyes from it, and puts on his Champion smile again.
Eventually he makes it to his Charizard and drops the bucket of water and beef at his old friend's feet. Charizard leans down to rub its face against Ketchum affectionately and the trainer says something to the Pokémon I couldn’t make out.
Giving Charizard one last pat on its snout, Ketchum again wades through the swarm of people around him to reenter the diner, protected by the sign at the door.
‘Charizards my ride home.’ says Ketchum as he sits across from me again.
Ketchum’s first Regional Tournament loss came when Charizard refused to battle at the Indigo Plateau, costing him to forfeit the match. He was just shy of eleven years old then.
‘Everythings a lesson, even when it kind-of-sort-of-isn’t.’ he chuckles, leaning back in the booth and kicking his weathered sneakers over the edge of the seat. ‘For every win on my record are at least a dozen losses, but nobody wants to talk about all the struggle, failure, and straight up getting my butt kicked that’s happened through it all.’
What does one learn from their ace-in-the-hole Pokémon simply falling asleep and refusing to cooperate on one of the highest stages of competitive Pokémon battling?
‘Well I wasn’t Charizards original trainer. I found him when he was just a Charmander, abandoned by another trainer. He was scared, distrustful, and weak from exposure.’ recalls Ketchum. ‘He was such a sweet and timid little guy, when he evolved into a Charmeleon and he developed a serious rebellious streak I didn't know what to do with.’
He looks back out the window at his friend, who was happily posing for pictures and pats from the adoring crowd.
‘It took years, and some time with Charizard in the Charicific Valley, but I realized his attitude wasn’t because he necessarily had issues with me, it was his issues with trainers in general. He wasn’t a small vulnerable Charmander any more, he had some real power, he could put himself in a position where he’d never be hurt by another trainer, another human ever again. I had to accept that, and show Charizard that he could trust me, that he could depend on me. That when we step into the arena together, he knows I would go to the ends of the Earth for him. That’s what I’m talking about when I mean Pokémon training is all about coaching.’
Ketchum snorts, and looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
‘Aren’t you lucky huh? Never said that before.’ he said.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We wrap up our dinner and Ketchum and Pikachu leave through the same kitchen door they arrived through. Charizard has presumably met him by the back, because as soon as I step outside there's a swoosh and Charizard flies off into the sunset, Ketchum on its back, giving one last wave to the fans below.
Ketchum’s relationship with his celebrity status is another one of his contradictions. Friends of his have talked about his guilty pleasure of occasionally relishing in the attention from others, but always from a healthy, somewhat guarded distance.
With a well recorded history of conflicts with the criminal organization Team Rocket, and more than a few awkward run ins with the press starting from a young age, Ketchum’s earned guardedness of strangers is constantly at war with his proclivity to make friends with almost everyone.
These two traits came to a head a few months ago when at a League social event in honor of Ketchum’s ascent to Viridian Gym Leader, he was involved in a physical altercation with a mysterious figure. The two were both subsequently apprehended by authorities, but quickly released.
The League has been tightlipped about details of the incident, and rumors surrounding the event have been wild and contrarian: Ketchum initiated the fight, the stranger tried to harm Pikachu, the stranger is actually “the real” Ash Ketchum, and the current World Champion has been impersonating him for 20 years. The rumors go on and on, and get progressively more ridiculous.
But one thing all the rumors seem to agree upon is this mysterious stranger made the bold claim to be Ketchum’s half-brother, and brought up a particularly sensitive subject with Ketchum: his father.
Ketchum doesn’t talk about his father. Not to his high power League friends, not to the people he loves, not to his Pokémon, and least of all not to the press. Journalists over the years have gotten a sort of customary chance to poke the sleeping Ursaring per interview. Questions probing the absent father-son relationship at best earning a glare from Ketchum, and at worst, having the interview ended then and there.
To make matters murkier, upon further investigation, it was revealed that the alleged half-brother of Ketchum has ties to the nefarious Team Rocket, leading some to believe Ketchum and his mysterious father are also connected to the organization. Advocates of this theory claim that Ketchum’s interactions with Team Rocket in the past are actually elaborate cover ups for him working for the criminal enterprise, rather than fighting it.
While there’s no evidence to substantiate these rumors, they’ve nonetheless spread like wildfire, and placed Ketchum and his inner circle under the microscope of internet sleuths, trolls, and anonymous self described ‘rivals’ of the Champion.
Ketchum has been dealing with these tribulations like he deals with many other challenges he’s faced: by working to be the greatest Pokémon trainer ever.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I met Ketchum the next day a few blocks outside of the Viridian Gym, in a small cafe where he said there's a coffee dedicated to him. Similar to his ‘home turf’ Green Spoon diner, the cafe called A Little FarFetch’d is a small, intimate place, with a few newspaper clippings of Ketchum frequenting the establishment.
I can’t help but peruse the over the counter menu to see if I can tell which drink they’d made in his honor. It’s not hard to put two and two together: The Electric Boogaloo - 2 shots of espresso in a banana milkshake with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.
There’s an orange blur that swooshes overhead, catching the attention of myself and a few passersby. Ketchum and his faithful Charizard came into focus, Pikachu sat further up on the dragon Pokémon’s neck.
The trio touched down on the opposite side of the street. Ketchum hopped down from his steed and patted the dragon on the neck, thanking it for its service. Pikachu jumped onto Ketchum’s shoulder, and the mighty dragon gave a small roar, and blasted off into the sky again. Ketchum waves goodbye to his friend, and jogs across the street to meet me.
‘Hey guys! How ya doing today?’ booms Ketchum as we enter the shop, the staff returning the enthusiastic greeting of the Champ. It’s the same routine as yesterday at the diner with 100% sincerity- ‘How’s that new ice cream flavor coming along Ben?’ ‘Oh wow is that your kid? They’ve grown so much!’ ‘How's your Miltank doing Kelly, I remember you said it got hurt?’.
Ketchum insists on paying for our drinks (two of the Electric Boogaloos), turning down both a comp from the cafe staff, and my own offer to pay. The drink is sweet, more sugar and fruityness than actual coffee, and it hits you with flavor and sheer caffeine right from the get go.
‘I may have had a little creative input on the drink.’ he smirks.
We speed walk (because there's no other way to walk after those drinks) towards the Viridian Gym, chatting idly about the weather, the latest Pokémon performance, any movies we’ve seen recently, good restaurants, and whatever else you talk about when you’re instantly over-caffeinated and talking with the worlds best Pokémon trainer.
The gym comes into view, mostly obscured by scaffolding and construction personnel. The imposing Grecco-Roman art style of the gym was being replaced with a new design under instruction from Ketchum.
‘I hated this gym,’ said Ketchum. ‘From the way it looked, the way it felt. I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by having a gym that's intimidating to Pokémon trainers, especially with architecture of all things.’
He shows me a few concept pictures of the redesigned gym, a much humbler, warmer style, almost akin to a giant ranch or nursery you'd find in the countryside.
‘Having the gym isn’t so much a dream goal as it is an honor, and a responsibility.’ He says. ‘A gym is supposed to be a difficult challenge to overcome, but also a stepping stone for trainers. It’s a place for people to develop grit, to fail and try again until they overcome it. The badge a trainer gets represents more than a victory, it represents learning new skills and growing not just as a Pokémon trainer, but as a person.’
‘Pikapikapi!’ exclaims Pikachu. Ketchum chuckles, looking at his partner.
‘Although yeah, the badge is also about beating the gym leader.’ he says.
We circle the structure for most of the afternoon as Ketchum points out little details to me, and like at the cafe and diner before, says hi to every worker on site: ‘Hi Rick, hi Becca! Place is coming along nicely, huh?’ ‘Hey Matty, how’s it going? Your Slugma’s doing a great welding job!’ ‘Hi there! Don’t think I’ve ever seen you on the site before, I’m Ash, what’s your name?’.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Things take a sudden, unexpectedly tense turn.
Back at the front of the gym as we complete our lap, a small pick up truck speeds down the grand path towards us. At first it looked like more construction workers were joining, but we quickly realized that none of the persons in the flatbed of the truck wore the requisite hi-vis vests or hard hats. The pickup truck pulled to an abrupt stop, and half a dozen figures armed with signs, buckets of paint, and the odd camera, all adorned in tshirts that matched many of their sign’s slogans: ‘Check the “Champ’, ‘Ketchum’s a cheat’, ‘Stop Ketchum Controlling the League’, and the previously seen ‘Ketchum’s in Rockets Pocket’.
They hoisted their signs in the air and began chanting slogans that followed along the same lines as their shirts and signs: ‘Hold Ketchum accountable!’ ‘Ketchum’s taking over the League!’ ‘Who’s your brother Ketchum? What’s he doing? What’s your father doing?’
Ketchum stood opposite them, stony faced, hands in his pockets. The construction team began converging on the site, and someone in the distance shouted ‘Call Officer Jenny!’. One of the protestors threw a can of bright red paint that exploded on the walkway at Ketchum’s feet. Pikachu sprang into action, jumping off of Ketchum’s shoulder, sparking and growling angrily.
Another can of paint came soaring through the air, and Pikachu jumped up to meet it, striking the projectile with a perfectly powered Iron Tail. It bounced back towards the intruders, and exploded at their feet, splattering them in a light mist of their own paint.
The mighty rodent landed on all fours, teeth bared and sparking with electrical voltage that had brought down hundreds, if not thousands of Pokémon in competition. Its partner stood by not moving an inch, leering at the intruding protesters with a silent message: they hadn’t crossed the line with him yet.
The enthusiasm the protesters initially had died quickly, and they snuck uneasy glances at one another, silently weighing their next move. They scurried back to their pickup truck, just as the rest of the construction crew closed in.
The pickup turned tail back down the walkway, littering their supplies, waste, and any other detritus in their vehicle onto the walkway. They tore down onto the street and zoomed away around the corner out of sight.
Ketchum watched the vehicle speed off with that same stony expression, then let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes away from the vandalization.
‘Alright…Dewott, come on out. Let’s help clean this mess up.’ he said.
He released the water Pokémon, grabbed a broom from one of the site workers, and began sweeping away the debris the protestors left. Dewott used its water gun to rinse away the paint, and even Pikachu had found a small toothbrush to scrub with.
‘Sorry you had to see that.’ said Ketchum, uncharacteristically quiet.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We settled down at a picnic bench in the surrounding park, the gym looming over us as a backdrop rather than our main focus as we longed for a break. Officer Jenny had brought a few uniformed personnel to take statements and collect evidence, prolonging the tiresome experience with the protestors for about another hour, and after the whole ordeal the only thing Ketchum wanted was to eat his feelings away.
He ordered some food from his beloved Green Spoon diner (‘It’ll be delivered within the half hour champ!’ says the cashier on the other end of the PokeGear), relishing the moment to simply be away from it all at this little picnic table.
Pikachu skamperd around, playing with some wild Caterpie and Pidgy milling about. Ketchum looked at his old friend with the first smile I’d seen on his face since the incident.
‘The first Pokémon to join our team were a Caterpie and a Pidgeoto. They both evolved and stayed with a respective flock of theirs.’ He said ‘We miss every Pokémon who leaves the team, but just like people, Pokémon have different priorities at different times in their lives.’
Ketchum’s new roles as gym leader, reserve manager, frequent corporate sponsor, and his returning role of World Monarch often demand a more administrative and big picture skill set than his usual ‘taking-it-day-by-day’ approach: how the hell is one person supposed to manage all these various massive undertakings alone?
‘Easy; I won’t be alone.’ he responds simply. ‘Everyone talks about my Pokémon career like I single handedly achieved everything on my own, but I’ve had so much help from others along the way to get where I am today. I’m not about to start trying to do things alone now.’
But then why do so much? Isn’t being world champion (for the third time) enough?
He pauses for a moment, his mind going elsewhere as he looks at his oldest partner play with the wild Pokémon.
‘It’s not about it being enough,’ he said. ‘It’s about who it’s for.’
A Delibird suddenly lands on the table, chirping happily. It opens up its pouch to reveal a few takeout boxes, stamped with the Green Spoon Diner’s logo.
‘Thanks for the chow Klause, tell Marni and Brenda I say hi!’ said Ketchum. He rummaged in his pocket for his wallet, slipping a few bills into the flying type's wing. ‘Be sure to give this to Marni, ok? I know she’s gonna say “it’s on the house champ!”, but I’m not taking that, ok?’
The Delibird (Klause, like Santa Klause, I realize) nods at Ketchum’s instructions, gives a wave, and flies off. Another feast courtesy of the Green Spoon Diner lies before us: a heap of waffle fries, a bowl of chili, a bag of edamame, a triple decker BLT, crab rangoon, and some spring rolls. Pikachu springs back towards us to join in the feast for two.
I had just gotten a cheeseburger and fries.
We finish our respective meals at the same time, and amazingly he’s still hungry. In fact, he’s ordering something from the coffee shop we met at this morning.
‘I don’t know, I need something sweeter after that whole…ordeal…you want anything?’ he asks.
I order a small coffee, which much like earlier in the day, he refuses to let me pay for it. He orders a chocolate milkshake, a half dozen cannolis, and a cup of ice cream.
‘Stress turns me into a sugar fiend. Dealing with all these protestors the past few months, I’m amazed I haven’t gained like 40 pounds.’ he says.
It’s the first time he’s really acknowledged the recent opposition he’s faced the past few months.
‘I prefer trainers who trash talk me. At least with them, I can beat them in a Pokémon battle,’ he said. ‘This stuff though, these people it’s…a lot harder to deal with.’
‘Is that what all of this is for? The championship, the gym, the lab, the work at the Indigo Plateau, is it all to get those reporters, critics, and haters to shut up?’ I ask.
It’s the wrong question.
He rolls his eyes and scoffs. It’s the first actual indication of annoyance vaguely directed at me during our time together. Even then, he shakes his head and apologizes to me. ‘It’s not you…it’s the whole damn-’
He stares at his new gym, his new challenge. He looks like he wants to fight the gym itself. I can see the gears turning in his head, and for the first time since we started talking it’s clear he is choosing his next words carefully.
‘Did you know my dad might be dead. How sad is that?’ He asks ruefully. ‘I don’t even know if one of my parents is dead. I couldn’t even mourn properly if I wanted to.’
Its seemingly a random thing for him to say, until-
‘I’m about to be a father.’
I drop my notepad. There’s a million questions I want to ask (mainly, “Who’s the mother?!” or “Does this mean the rumors are true?!”) but the air is too charged, the tension hasn’t left yet, so I hold my tongue and listen.
‘I’m having a daughter.’ he continues, staring at the gym in a trance. ‘And I’m scared, honestly, I’m scared I’m going to be like-’
His voice catches.
‘...like someone I can’t even remember.’ he finishes
‘I never, ever, ever, want my child to wonder where I am, or what I’m doing, or who I am.’ He says, and then looks at me dead in the eyes.
‘So that’s why I keep striving for more, to be better, to earn these positions in the league. So she’ll know me, she’ll know what I stand for, and she’ll know that everything I do is for her, because I love her.’
Pikachu hops onto Ketchum’s shoulder, sensing the tension and distress in his human’s voice. The electric type nudges the hatted head of its master affectionately, giving a comforting ‘Pikapi, pikachuuuu’.
Ketchum smiles and pats Pikachu on the back. ‘Thanks bud, I know you and everyone else will be there too.’ He says, his eyes focusing just past his partner. ‘She’s never going to feel alone.’
A Doduo appears with our order secured on its back, one of its two heads placing our drinks and desserts on the table. Ketchum thanks the flightless bird Pokémon, and places a few bills in its bag, giving the same spiel he gave to the previous delivery Pokémon. The Doduo runs off and Ketchum digs into his dessert, but his mind is still elsewhere. It’s the least enthused I’ve seen him in the presence of food.
‘I really hope our little girl gets her moms eyes. I love her eyes.’ he says.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ketchum checks in with the foreman of the construction crew one last time. There’s been no lasting impact from the unpleasantries earlier, and the renovations are still on track.
‘Um excuse me? Uh…Mr- Mr. Ketchum?’ came a surprisingly small voice.
We turn to see a trio of kids standing in the middle of the construction site. A nervous looking girl about age ten or eleven stepped forward to address Ketchum, a small Mudkip at her ankles.
When he looks at her, the beginnings of that Champion grin spreads across his face. ‘Hi there! My name's Ash, what's yours?’ he asks.
The lead girl puts on her bravest face and points directly at Ketchum. ‘My name is Sara, and I’m on a quest to be a Pokémon Master! I challenge you to a Pokémon battle for the Viridian City Gym badge!’ she exclaimed, her Mudkip shouting in solidarity
There were a few chuckles from the few construction members at her declaration, but Ketchum wore an apologetic smile on his face.
‘I’m sorry Sara, but the gym isn’t open yet and the badges haven’t been officially minted by the league yet. I’m technically not allowed to take any Gym Badge challenges.’ he said.
‘Oh, um……oh...’ grumbled the girl, deflating in on herself.
‘I told you Sara, I knew the gym wasn't open yet!’ hissed one of the other kids, a boy about her age.
The lead girl, Sara, puffed up in annoyance and turned on her companion.
‘Well I didn’t hear you come up with any better ideas Harry! If we’d listen to you all day we’d still be lost trying to get around Mt. Moon!’ she yelled.
The surrounding adults watched the children bicker for a few more moments. Ketchum smiled at the kids, like he was remembering something or someone, but eventually he and Pikachu stepped forward to intervene.
‘How about this.’ Said the Champion. ‘Whaddya say you and I battle, and if you win, I’ll personally let you know when the gym is open. You’ll be the first person in line to challenge me as Viridian Gym’s new leader.’
The kids jaws’ dropped to the floor, eyes staring wildly at Ketchum, unable to process what he had just said to them.
‘Does that sound good to you Sara?’ asks Ketchum, a bemused smile growing on his face.
‘Yes please! Uh, I mean uh…yeah, no that sounds great.’ said the young Pokémon trainer, trying to play it cool.
Ketchum instructed her and her friends to rally by the picnic table we’d sat at earlier, and that we’d catch up in a few minutes as soon as he’s done talking to the gym’s construction team.
The group of young Pokémon trainers rushed to follow Ketchum’s directions (Sara even let out a few more of her Pokémon: a Mankey, a Snowrunt, a Poochyeana, and an Ivysaur), where they bickered with one another while they waited for Ketchum to finish his gym work.
The man in question watched them with a smirk before turning back to the foreman of his Gym’s renovations. The two exchanged a few more pieces of feedback, updates, and minute adjustments the Champ wished to make. ‘Thanks Randall, I’ll check in with you in a day or two.’ he says, turning to walk towards his young challenger waiting for him on baited breath.
I try to stay back, but he turns to me and asks ‘Want to referee a Pokémon battle?’
If Ash Ketchum asks you to do anything Pokémon related, what else can one say other than yes?
We slowly make our way over to the group of awaiting challengers. Ketchum gazes at them with a nostalgic look in his eyes.
‘You know one day, one of these kids is going to take the championship from me.’ he suddenly says, still out of earshot of the young trainers.
He throws a cluster of his Pokeballs into the air, a series of flashes of light fade to form the figures of his Dewott, a Maschiff, a Munchlax, and a Flareon. Pikachu jumps into their midst to greet them. It’s clear from their greetings that the newly released Pokémon look up to Pikachu as their leader, as the electric rodent guides them towards the young trainer and her Pokémon awaiting them.
‘Everybody who sets out on their own Pokémon journey wants to be the best there ever was.’ he says, ‘So if they want to be the best, they’ll have to go through me.’ he says, eyeing his current competition, that trademark iconic glint in his eyes and smile on his face.
He suddenly stopped, his face scrunching together as some intrusive thought interrupted him, but then he broke out into a laugh and turned to me.
‘Maybe if I’m really lucky, it’ll be my own little girl that takes the title from me.’ he says.
He jogs up to face his latest challenger as I stand to the side to officiate. I give the usual referee spiel as best as I can, and with a slashing gesture of my hands, the match begins.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Whether he’s facing a member of the Elite Four or a novice trainer, Ketchum treats each battle the same. He and his team are fast, resourceful, and strong.
The match is a 3v3, but Ketchum tactfully keeps his heavy hitters on the sideline. The young challenger just scratches by when her Mankey evolves into a Primape mid-battle and clinches the final round against Ketchum’s Flareon.
I feel like I hide my shock well when I declare the young girl the victor, whereas there are near tears of shock and joy running down her face as she hugs her Primape.
‘Well done Sara! You and your team are really tough, I’m looking forward to when you visit the gym for its grand opening.’ says Ketchum, just as happy as the young girl before him. When she’s had a moment to collect herself, Ketchum adds his contact info into her PokeGear and instructs her to message him in about a month when there will be a more concrete opening date for the gym opening.
‘Is it true that you had a secret wedding to the famous Coordinator Dawn Berlitz?’ suddenly blurted out the other, younger kid. ‘And that you got married in a cave of diamonds? Oh my gosh that sounds so romantic!’
Ketchum looked utterly flummoxed at the sudden personal questions, a blush and an awkward grin spreading across his face. The older kids tried to shush and scold the young girl, but Ketchum waved their protests aside, insisting the young girl had done nothing wrong.
‘Well uh…no, Dawn and I aren’t together like that.’ stuttered Ketchum, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous tick.
The small girl let out an ‘Aawwww…’ of disappointment, the romantic fantasy of an avid fan crumbling around her.
Ketchum looked at the despondent little girl, gave me the briefest of glances, then sighed and knelt down to be at her level.
‘I am seeing someone special though.’ He said.
I try to maintain my composure as best as I can, but I, guilty of being a devout follower of Ash Ketchum shipping blogs, as well as a professional reporter who’s received the scoop of the century, am melting on the inside. There was confirmation.
The little girl perked up immediately, already constructing a new celebrity shipping daydream from the ruins of her previous one. ‘Really? Who is it?’ she exclaimed.
Ketchum grinned. ‘Well, she and I promised to keep it a secret, so I’m sorry but I can’t tell you who it is.’ he said. ‘But I can tell you, that she’s one of my oldest friends, the bravest and strongest person I know, and I wouldn’t be anything without her.’
The little girl broke out into a beaming smile, clasping her hands together against her chest. ‘Oh my gosh, a secret romance with your oldest friend sounds so romantic!’ she cried out.
‘Bailey, cut it out!’ nudged the older boy Harry.
‘Yeah, you’re saying all these embarrassing things in front of Mr. Ketchum!’ added Sara.
‘It’s ok, really! Lots of people have asked me about it, but this is still a secret. Can you do me a favor and help me keep it?’ he says to the little girl. She nods enthusiastically and Ketchum smiles. ‘You know, you remind me of an old friend of mine. When she was your age, she was really into romantic stories, and kept trying to find her older brother a wife, even though we were just kids.’
Ketchum eyed the older two kids with a smirk. ‘I met my partner on my Pokémon journey, who knows when or where you’re gonna meet that special someone.’
The two older kids blushed furiously and inched apart from each other while Ketchum and the smaller girl giggled.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eventually the trio of young trainers waved goodbye as they made their way to the Viridian Pokémon Center. Ketchum stood there waving at the shrinking figures of the young trainers, as they disappeared from sight.
‘I guess some congratulations are in order,’ he said. ‘You’re the first reporter to learn this much about my personal life in years.’
I ask if this is going to cause a problem for him, and he waves my concerns off nonchalantly, like he hasn’t just spilled a big secret. ‘I’ll talk to her about it, and if she’s got a problem with it, I’ll reach out to you.’ He says (the printing of this article indicates there were no objections on the mystery partners side).
I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all: who knew all we [reporters] have needed to do all these years to get Ketchum to open up is stick him in front of a few Pokémon obsessed kids.
‘Fair enough.’ He chuckles when I tell him that. ‘When I was their age, most of the adults I met had the decency not to dumb things down or lie to me, so I try my best to do the same. Even when it comes to uh…awkward questions about my love life.’
Pikachu giggles.
There’s a roar from the sky, and the orange blur of Ketchum’s Charzard touches down in the park. It saunters over to the ornate fountain near the front of the gym and begins drinking.
‘Well, now that the Meowth’s out of the bag, I gotta get home and help take care of my…special someone.’ he said.
I ask, because I have to at least try: who’s the special someone?
Ketchum lets out a chuckle, ‘It’s a secret.’
Even if it wasn’t would you tell?
‘Nope.’
As we walk to meet the Dragon Pokémon I wrack my brain for questions, topics of conversation, any last words to throw out there as our time together comes to a close, but Ketchum beats me to the punch.
‘So, what’s next for you?’ he asks.
I prattle off a list of upcoming projects and articles, a few personal errands to attend to, the usual stuff. Ketchum listens attentively, chiming in with the odd question for clarification or a brief compliment.
It’s probably the worst journalistic moment of my career that in the last moments I have with the greatest Pokémon Master ever, I’m talking about myself. But as I’ve seen from diner patrons, adoring fans, construction workers, shop owners, young Pokémon trainers, and everyone in between, Ketchum’s sincere interest in the happenings and wellbeing of others is so genuine, you can’t help but get sucked into his orbit.
So, if he ends up asking about yourself in the waning moments of a conversation where the whole point is to be asking questions about him, you go with it, and you answer him, because he really, actually cares about the answers.
It’s what I imagine the Pokémon that he captures feel as well, treated as an equal to be taken care of and nurtured, rather than a wild beast meant to be tamed into submission.
So be it a conversation, a friendship, a business transaction, a years long wilderness adventure, a relationship, a prestigious position in the Pokémon league, parenthood, you trust him. You know, with absolute certainty, he’ll show up, he’ll put in all the effort he can and then some, and he may not succeed right off the bat, but eventually, he’ll pull through for you.
‘Y'know what, it actually was really nice talking to you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.’ He says as we reach Charzard, its thirst now quenched. Ketchum and Pikachu hop on the orange Dragon’s back and Pikachu gives me a goodbye with a ‘Pikapikachu’!
‘How is it you stay so young!?’ I blurt out madly, desperate to get one last question in.
He laughs and says ‘I grew up. My dream didn't.’
He throws me a small two fingered salute, says ‘Bye!’, and then he’s airborne, headed straight for his next great adventure: home.