Competitive Pokémon events have become a nightmare.

After a hiatus of several years from participating in the Pokémon Trading Card Game, I noticed a significant shift in its atmosphere post-2020. What was once an exclusive gathering for dedicated enthusiasts transformed into a phenomenon driven by pandemic-era excitement. Similar to my views on the fighting game community, I admit to having a protective stance. I longed for the simple focus on competition, devoid of any extraneous elements.

Yet, with a Pokémon regional championship occurring right in my neighborhood in Los Angeles, I felt compelled to revisit the competitive scene. This experience, however, merely reinforced my existing reservations about attending. The event was not only swarming with a multitude of newer fans, but it also became evident that The Pokémon Company was struggling to manage the influx.

My difficulties began with the process of registering for the Los Angeles Pokémon Regional Championship. To illustrate the seasonal framework of the Pokémon TCG and VGC circuits, local events and Challenges represent the entry-level competitions, succeeded by regionals, then nationals, and finally internationals. Players aim to gather Championship Points (colloquially abbreviated to the somewhat questionable “CP”) to earn a spot at the World Championship.

Consequently, regional tournaments hold considerable importance for individuals aspiring to accrue points. While I personally had no ambition to qualify, I was keen to try competing once more, curious to experience the current environment. I had already invested funds in acquiring a somewhat competitive deck.

However, enrollment was already closed.

My journey in the TCG commenced in 2016, a decade ago, astonishingly. Even at that time, events featured participation limits, and failing to register within the initial days indeed carried the risk of being unable to compete.

Nevertheless, starting in 2020, tournament registrations began to fill up almost immediately. Although regional events maintain participant limits, a substantially greater number of enthusiasts are now eager to enter.

According to veteran competitor Christina “Chia” Korsak (a Brawl champion slated for a future profile by Esports Insider), this aspect has become the most vexing part of participating in Pokémon events. She voiced her exasperation over regional events selling out “in mere seconds.”

“This situation disrupts numerous individuals’ arrangements,” Chia commented. “For instance, regarding [the North American International Championship], I secured a spot, but my girlfriend did not. Initially, I hadn’t arranged shared accommodation because she intended to attend. Now, she’s unable to go due to the excessively demanding registration, and my other friends’ rooms are already occupied. So, despite my own acceptance… well…”

Chia elaborated that a friend of hers missed the initial two registration waves for NAIC before successfully securing a spot in the third. Another friend, a long-time NAIC participant, failed to register during all three attempts.

“Despite participant limits remaining largely consistent for the past few years, the game’s popularity continues to expand with an increasing number of participants. The events, however, are not adequately expanding to accommodate this growth,” she stated.

Anthony Kelly, another seasoned competitor, also failed to register during all three release windows for NAIC. He informed Esports Insider that the event reached full capacity within a matter of seconds, rendering his reaction speed irrelevant.

I, fortunately, didn’t even attempt to register. Having attended previously, I recall the event feeling suffocating. The sheer volume of individuals crammed into the convention center was disagreeable. What used to be a specialized interest had transformed into a massive public display.

My other concern revolves around the sheer scale of these gatherings. While the attendance figures undeniably indicate increased popularity, they simultaneously highlight The Pokémon Company’s organizational shortcomings.

At a previous NAIC, I distinctly recall enduring enormous queues simply to browse the various vendor booths situated in separate meeting areas. For anyone familiar with large gatherings of enthusiasts, it’s no secret that those confined, small spaces became unpleasantly odorous. That is, if one even managed to gain entry after a half-hour wait just to look at merchandise.

The official Pokémon Center retail experience was even more dismal. The queue extended beyond an hour, despite having selected a designated entry time. Navigating through the various roped-off sections felt akin to being herded, and it was quite irritating. This scenario often unfolds when a majority of attendees are present for the novelty rather than the competition. “

A similar problem arose at last year’s World Championship. Numerous players conveyed to me their frustrations regarding the chaotic and inequitable nature of the process, particularly as competitors had limited scheduling flexibility due to their ongoing matches. Pokémon permitted numerous social media personalities to claim time slots, prioritizing them over active players, which further complicated securing an available opening.

Still, at least I had the chance to play some matches last year.

For the LA regional, I failed to register in time to compete, missing that brief window. That’s acceptable; I’m out of practice regardless. Nevertheless, I showed up on Saturday with my freshly built deck (and having purchased a spectator pass) only to discover an absence of side events (casual matches available for play).

Upon inquiring, I learned that all side event slots had been occupied since the event’s commencement at 10 AM. The sheer volume of attendees holding spectator passes meant the convention center lacked adequate space to host additional side activities. I revisited the area multiple times, but no further opportunities arose.

To compound the issue, my boyfriend intended to participate in some casual VGC side matches, only for us to discover that none were available. His sole alternative was a Challenge, which felt somewhat daunting for someone merely seeking an enjoyable experience.

“There is no justifiable reason for the absence of Pokémon events or activities beyond the primary tournament on Saturday,” Kelly remarked. “What is the utility of a Spectator Badge if one cannot observe or engage in anything apart from the main competition?”

“Especially considering the vastness of a venue like the Los Angeles Convention Center. This demonstrates insufficient foresight and organizational capability from Pokémon.”

Chia shared a similar sentiment. Although the expansion of the fanbase isn’t inherently negative, Pokémon appears unprepared for its implications.

“It is unequivocally apparent that TPCI is ill-equipped to manage this situation, consistently fumbling with event organization, the card market, and other aspects,” she highlighted. “For a franchise that is, by definition, the largest media entity globally, it provides a truly subpar experience for its supporters, as numerous genuine fans are excluded.”

I, personally, do not welcome this expansion, though Chia might be correct. Perhaps my aversion stems solely from the agonizing experience Pokémon has created. The throngs arriving to resell merchandise at the Center, the immense queues at vendor stalls, the instant capacity of side events… It culminates in a dreadful experience, assuming one can even participate.

Kelly pondered the feasibility of hosting two separate NAIC events in distinct geographical areas of the nation to better serve a larger player base, enabling attendance without the chaotic enrollment procedure. Such a measure would also create additional capacity for peripheral activities and tournaments. Regrettably, this seems like an expenditure The Pokémon Company would likely avoid.

He has perceived a decline in the competitive landscape since his entry in 2016. The influx of additional dishonest players and “unpleasant individuals” is a natural consequence of community expansion. Simply put, an increased number of participants inherently creates more instances of undesirable behavior. Given Pokémon’s limited efforts to improve the experience, the overall atmosphere of the scene feels to be deteriorating.

The emphasis appears to have shifted away from community engagement and genuine competition, moving towards card acquisition, collecting, and merely making an appearance at events. The demographic now includes a higher proportion of children and families, resulting in a distinctly different ambiance.

Some might argue it’s merely a children’s game. Agreed. However, why must children’s activities be so poorly executed? Not every offering for youngsters must be akin to the simplistic “Minions” when thoughtful works like “Up” and “Flow” demonstrate that entertainment can be both child-friendly and possess genuine artistic value.

At this juncture, I remain uncertain regarding a definitive remedy. Would it involve more expansive venues? Increased participation limits? A greater variety of activities at events? While restoring the original atmosphere may be unattainable, the current situation undoubtedly has significant room for improvement.