>>58362179Squirtle was my first Pokémon ever. Not because I thought it was the strongest, or the coolest, or because I had some grand strategy in mind. I was six years old, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a borrowed copy of Pokémon Blue and a chunky Game Boy that barely held a charge. I didn’t know what “starter” meant. I just saw a tiny blue turtle with big eyes and a cheeky grin and thought, “That one looks like he’d be my friend.”
Charmander looked angry. Bulbasaur looked like he had homework. But Squirtle? Squirtle looked like he’d steal snacks with me behind the teacher’s back and laugh about it later.
I didn’t know type matchups. I didn’t know Brock was going to be easier with a Water-type. I just picked the one that made me smile. And that Squirtle stayed with me through everything. He beat Misty, evolved into Wartortle, held his own against Sabrina’s psychic nightmares, and eventually became a Blastoise that tanked Lance’s Dragonites like a champ.
But more than that, he was my first digital companion. The first time I felt like a game was more than just pixels—it was a journey. I named him “Bubbles.” I still remember that. And when I lost my save file years later, I cried. Not because I lost progress, but because I lost Bubbles.
So yeah, Squirtle was my first Pokémon. And even now, after all the gens and gimmicks and starters that came after, I still think about that moment. That choice. That grin. That friend.
Squirtle wasn’t just my starter. He was my beginning.
