Every generation has its set of games that strike like lightning. In the past, that’s been Pogs and Pokemon. For you, it seems Beyblades have reached that level of enthusiasm.
You wake up thinking about Beyblades. You make beds for them at night. We watch the Beyblade TV shows in their multiple derivatives. We talk about how many Beyblades your friends have, and you’ve introduced them to some friends, too. You use voice commands on my phone (because you can’t spell or type much yet) to search for Beyblades and add them to your shopping list. “I want all the Beyblades on my list to come on Christmas, Dad.”
Of course, these aren’t just collectibles. You “fight” with them in your Beystadium. Using a “ripper” you set the tops and battle me or a friend with the countdown: “3, 2, 1. Let it rip!” The ceremony of it all is as consistent as Catholic mass. The tops spin around and bump into each other until one of them stops first and we have a still-spinning winner.
The Beyblades look fairly similar but have different designs on top and some different heights and weights, so far as I can tell. The retailer in me says this sensation of plastic tops has a helluva mark-up. Thankfully, your ever-thrifty Mom found another mom dumping a set of Beyblades in Puyallup and doubled your collection just yesterday for the low cost of $30.
This all is a natural way of discovering and exploring your identity. Hobbies come and go, and they’re a way of growing and exploring yourself. Ghostbusters and then Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were the worlds that I explored and played in as a kid. Adults aren’t so different. I’m learning how to fish salmon and that’s a world of customs and language to learn unto itself. Some adults get too busy to have hobbies or claim not to have them. That’s the result of giving too much time to responsibilites or forgetting the importance of trying something new.
We’ll go all in on Beyblades until we go all in on the next thing. As it should be. Let it rip.
Love, Dad