In Big Baddies Breakdown, Wolfman Jew analyzes all sorts of boss fights across the games industry. The catch: one boss per game. Many of these are brilliant, some of them poor. Several show technical polish, while others tell stories through their fights. But all are worthy of discussion.
This article is inspired by (and indebted to) the series “Just Add Capes” and “Elite Evaluations” by Fuwfuwa. Thanks to Hamada for edits.
Every Pokémon Trainer knows the Elite Four. The Pokémon League’s finest are the toughest Trainers in the land, and beating them is the climax to most conventional Pokémon games. The gauntlet is difficult; each member has a crack team of Pocket Monsters. But they’re only the opening act for the final boss: the Champion who presides over them. Beating them doesn’t just earn you the end credits, but a place as the most respected Trainer of all.
On a mechanical level, there isn’t a ton to say about any of them. They have a team of six Pokémon, you (theoretically) have a team of six Pokémon, and the twelve monsters beat the stuffing out of each other in a stadium like that one episode of Justice League. The complexity merely arises out of their power and the strategies you employ to overcome it. That can lead to exciting climaxes where you pull out all the stops, and quiet affairs in which your overleveled monsters steamroll theirs. When I beat the League in Pokémon Violet I was well below every foe’s level and won by the skin of my teeth, while Pokémon Moon’s Elite Four were far too easy.
However, this trope—the Poké kingpin at the top of the heap—is interesting because every Champion is different. Each one has different Pokémon, of course, but they also have distinct personalities. As final bosses, they also have to act as the culmination of your journey and the game’s setting. And like most opponents in this series, they’re people you’re expected to know, not one-and-done enemies. Remember, Pokémon is an RPG, but it’s also a sport. So in lieu of a traditional breakdown, let’s compare these final bosses as characters, and why they endure.
Kanto: Blue
Team: Pidgeot, Alakazam, Rhydon, Arcanine / Charizard, Gyarados / Blastoise, Exeggutor / Venusaur
Other team members from sequels, optional second fights, spin-offs, and adaptations: Heracross, Tyranitar, Rhyperior, Aerodactyl, Tauros, Zapdos
The original Champion, from Pokémon Red & Blue, is Blue Oak. Your hometown rival is a snotty jerk who thumbs his nose at you even after you send him to the cleaners again and again. He’s also the grandson of the professor who gives the two of you your first partners, which puts him over you a bit. Both of you are gunning for the title of Champion. Blue simply gets there first, defeating the final Elite Four member Lance right before you catch up to him at the Indigo Plateau. That’s how it always is. He beats every Gym first and always ends any interaction with a snide “smell ya later!” Blue’s always ahead of you, even if that doesn’t match the gameplay.
Red & Blue had simple stories with little writing. There were a few threads (Team Rocket, the Gyms) that dovetailed a bit. Blue was the most memorable by virtue of being your first and most recurring opponent. That made him iconic when every other boss had little personality or screen time. He’s also the perfect jerk: annoying enough to want to beat, not so much that you resent his presence, and competent. Plus, he came up from Pallet Town just like you and never loses those small town airs.
His Pokémon team is also quite good. Over half a dozen battles throughout the game, you see his roster expand from just one ‘Mon—the starter with the advantage over whatever you picked, cementing his position as your nemesis—to six. It’s a good team, from readily available classics (Pidgeot, Gyarados) to harder captures (Rhydon, Alakazam). To account for him having either Venusaur, Charizard, or Blastoise, he subs in replacements to keep the Grass / Fire / Water dichotomy. Future Pokémon rivals would avoid going this far and have more static teams, which is perhaps a bit disappointing.
Team (Yellow): Sandslash, Alakazam, Exeggutor, Cloyster / Vaporean, Magneton / Jolteon, Ninetales / Flareon
Speaking of disappointing, the reissue Pokémon Yellow gives Blue a notably weaker crew. A Cloyster instead of a Gyarados; a Sandslash instead of a Rhydon. But even then, Blue is exactly what the final boss of Pokémon’s First Generation needed to be: the climax of your meteoric rise to the top. It’s no mystery why Blue’s regularly reappeared since, always older and less of a punk. But in those he’s retired as Champion, because he’s clearly not good for the position in the long term. It’s up to more eccentric types to hold down the Elite Fort.
Kanto (redux): Trace
Team: Mega Pidgeot, Vileplume, Marowak, Rapidash, Slowbro, Jolteon OR Raichu
Trace is Blue as a schlocky Eighties Italian B-movie ripoff, the Exterminators of the Year 3000 to his Road Warrior. The rival in the Red & Blue remakes Pokémon Let’s Go, Pikachu! & Let’s Go, Eevee!, he lacks his counterpart’s bite, which is crucial for someone whose role is to snipe the Elite Four. It’s not as though he’s a full replacement (if only because, weirdly, Blue is also in Let’s Go), but he’s an obvious downgrade. His Pokémon even have only three out of four possible moves; they only get a fourth in the optional rematches.
They’re also less interesting. Out went your psychic masters and hard-to-find beasts, and in came a bunch of basic, two-stage ‘Mons. The mix of Pidgeot, Vileplume, and Slowbro is too close to the squad an average player would build; it’s good for you but not your ultimate challenge. His Pidgeot can Mega Evolve, which is nice, but there’s not much else. At least Marowak ties him to the famous Lavender Town arc. The need for heavy hitters is something other Champions get and Trace fails to grasp. Since Let’s Go came out in 2018, this had long been proven, but thankfully it would only take until Blue’s successor to solidify the idea.
Johto: Lance
Team: Gyarados, Dragonite, Charizard, Aerodactyl, Dragonite, Dragonite
Other partners: Dragonair, Salamence, Garchomp, Altaria, Hydreigon
It’s three years after Red & Blue by the time of Pokémon Gold & Silver. Red has relinquished his title, Lance is back in charge (or he finally became Champion; it’s unclear if he held the position before losing to Blue in the last game), and the setting has shifted to Kanto’s sister region of Johto. The Pokémon League of the last game presides over both places; it’s the centerpiece of the twist that both are fully accessible in Generation II. But Johto’s the main one.
So what kind of leader is Lance? He’s quite stern, intense, and admittedly not much else. His backstory—a child of Blackthorn City’s enigmatic dragon tamers—is perfect for Johto. It’s based on Japan’s historic Kansai region and appropriately filled with small towns, shrines, and ancient architecture. There’s a history behind it that Kanto lacked. The scion of a clan that rides dragons, from a mountain town close to the Indigo Plateau, is perfect as its icon. Unfortunately, Lance’s personality ends there. His iconography stems from having rare Pokémon, debuting in the first games, and helping you raid Team Rocket’s lair. He is a powerhouse and nothing more.
Uniquely, despite having a dragon focus, actual Dragon-types are few and far between on his team. In Generation I, there was only one family line, and Gen II only added a second (which his cousin Clair claimed as her main partner). Later Generations created more, but personally, I think this gives Lance a niche he desperately needs. Alongside his signature Dragonite, his team is stacked with thematically draconic beasts. There’s Charizard and Gyarados, and an Aerodactyl that’s appropriately ancient. His juking the stats with two other Dragonite feels cheap and artificial by contrast. Just pack Ice Beam and you’re good to go. It’s a space that really should’ve been filled by at least something that debuted in Gold & Silver—the dragon-adjacent Tyranitar or Ampharos would’ve been great here. Poorly repping your own Generation is a weird problem some Champions struggle with, and it started as early as these games.
After Gold & Silver, Lance has been portrayed as the classical Pokémon Champion: a vaguely mysterious helper who only reveals his position for (and as) the final boss fight. Unlike that interloper Blue, he’s a lifer in the position. Nothing more, though he doesn’t need to be. He’s a baseline, and the next Generation would respond to him with two new characters in that mold.
Hoenn: Steven
Team: Skarmory, Claydol, Aggron, Cradily, Armaldo, Metagross (Mega Metagross in Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire)
Other partners: Carbink, Aerodactyl, Excadrill, Archeops, Alolan Sandslash, Rayquaza, Deoxys, Stoutland
If Johto is old and rustic, Hoenn is new and lively. The island chain is filled with beaches, a volcano, and topographical diversity. Innovation is everywhere. Champion Steven Stone is in his element here. Instead of hailing from a secret clan, he’s the heir to the region’s biggest company and rich enough to dump money into a Sinnohan villa just so he can excavate rare stones. But he’s not dissimilar from the last Champ. He still obfuscates his identity, helps you out repeatedly, and has a thematically on point Type.
The plot of Ruby & Sapphire revolves around titanic rivals Kyogre and Groudon, who’ve spent millennia underground before being forcibly awoken. Groudon in particular has dominion over not just land, but the very mantle of the earth. It fits, then, that the final boss would be a master of ore, dirt, and metals. Despite being a Steel-type enthusiast, Steven has a slightly more diverse team also comprising Rock and Ground-types. They include Pokémon revived from fossils he probably dug up himself. In all things, he’s a man of the underground. A bit odd that his favorite move is Steel Wing, but Skarmory’s cool so it all works out.
He’s also more modern than Lance. Steven’s got a nice house at the cliffs of Mossdeep City, he’s affiliated with the island’s space program, and his signature Pokémon is a 1,200-pound psychic robotic spider. He has a life. Maybe it’s weird that the top Trainer is this wealthy industrialist in a game with ecoterrorism and a vague environmental allegory, but he matches the livelier setting. His outfit certainly lends itself to that reading; out go the cape and flying gear, and in comes a tailored suit. He looked perfectly fine as is but—like most Ruby & Sapphire characters—got a tremendous glow up twelve years later in Pokémon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire. They even gave his sidekick Metagross a hyper-advanced Mega Evolution to match.
Steely Steven never quite achieved Lance’s fame. The anime series that adapted the Hoenn games notably snubbed him outside of one filler episode and gave Lance the role of concluding the Kyogre and Groudon plot. But he got a plumb role in the manga, as did the Trainer who replaced him. He also regularly appears whenever the games bring their Champions together, Metagross always by his side. It all makes him very natural for this role.
Hoenn (redux): Wallace
Team: Wailord, Tentacruel, Ludicolo, Whiscash, Gyarados, Milotic
Other partners: Luvdisc, Whiscash, Sealeo and Walrein, Seaking, Sharpedo, Swampert, Starmie
One of the many changes brought about by the Ruby & Sapphire expanded follow-up Pokémon Emerald was to Steven’s role—namely, that it was largely cut. He still pops up, notably in an optional postgame boss fight that ranks among the series’ hardest. But he lost his title to Wallace, his close friend and Hoenn’s final Gym Leader (a void subsequently filled by a new character, Juan). Wallace, who didn’t even get an anime appearance for years, works well as a follow-up.
For one thing, he’s a Water-type expert. That was his role in Sootopolis Gym, and it’s his role here (unlike Steven, he doesn’t branch out, though he does have counters for his Type’s weaknesses). Hoenn is an archipelago filled with water, notoriously so. You can easily find Wallace’s teammates in the region’s rivers and seas, which like his Water-exclusive focus is fitting if not exciting. The exception is his partner, Milotic: beautiful, tough, and exceptionally hard to acquire. Many players wouldn’t know it even exists. So if the last guy is tied to Groudon, this guy evokes the sea god Kyogre—and Hoenn’s many waterways.
He also exudes that idea of modernity and energy even more than Steven, and not just from the dynamic, fashion forward outfit he got in the remakes. Wallace is a Coordinator in Pokémon Contests, a kind of competition that debuted in Ruby & Sapphire. It’s mostly relegated to the anime, but the idea of Pokémon pageantry was a fresh take. Despite that, there aren’t many significant characters who partake in it. Even Wallace is a bit of a cheat, since his interests were mostly explored in spin-offs and adaptations. But they went front and center in Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire, which allowed you to compete against him there, too. That and his interest in the arts distinguish him as someone disinterested in chasing only strength.
Steven and Wallace are clear iterations on the model Lance made, your final boss who orbits around one Type and reflects one aspect of their home. Their fields compliment each other well, but they also show a slight evolution. Steven’s a jetsetter, Wallace an artist, and the power they wield and seek isn’t for its own sake; it supports other interests. This idea of a life outside a constant search for power is important, rare amongst their contemporary Pokémon characters, and the next Champion would make hay of it.
Sinnoh: Cynthia
Team: Spiritomb, Roserade, Gastrodon (Roserade in Platinum), Lucario, Milotic, Garchomp
Other partners: Porygon-Z, Braviary, Eelectross, Glaceon, Kommo-o, Giratina
Absolutely the most popular character on this list, Cynthia is the point at which this idea of the Champion as a symbol stopped being subtext. Pokémon Diamond & Pearl presented its Sinnoh region as the literal birthplace of the Pokémon universe. Its legends drive the plot and the villains. And Cynthia, alongside being a hard-won Trainer, is an amateur historian who studies myths for clues into Sinnoh’s past. She also hides her identity as she helps you, but the twist arguably works better when her historical background is relevant to the story. Her interests are more tangible than Lance’s family or Steven’s hobbies; her enthusiasm makes her feel more like a person. And that works back around to legitimizing her final boss role.
It doesn’t hurt that she’s got the single best team here. There’s Garchomp as her ace; it’s the region’s immensely cool “pseudo-Legendary” (a super-powerful, rare Pokémon; Lance’s Dragonite and Steven’s Metagross are other examples). But her whole team is like that, both in Diamond & Pearl and their follow-up Pokémon Platinum. Spiritomb is a nigh-unfindable specter packed with terrifying powers. Milotic is as great and as big a pain to find in these games as it was in the last. Lucario, Roserade, and Togekiss all manage style and power, along with special methods of evolution. The only average pick is Gastrodon, which Togekiss replaced in Platinum, and even it’s still fun and unique. These were some of the best, coolest Pokémon to come out of Gen IV.
While Lance, Steven, and Wallace all had a Type that drove their teams, Cynthia’s theme is more of a tone. It’s different kinds of rarity, attractiveness, and power (the one notable omission is Umbreon, which her stylish outfit evokes and like her namesake is associated with the moon). They all fit together in a way that’s quintessentially her. Whenever she’s given another Pokémon in a cameo or spin-off, it always fits. Every other Champion had a team that fit: Blue was normal but skilled, Lance and Steven prioritized rare ‘Mons, and Wallace liked grandeur. She just went further.
Game Freak broke the mold with their first female Champion, and they knew it. Cynthia was extremely popular from the start. After Diamond & Pearl she regularly got roles in the games and anime; the series will probably always have a place for her even with its constant cast turnover. When seemingly every Sinnoh character got a theoretical ancestor in the 2022 prequel Pokémon Legends: Arceus, she snagged two—important and memorable ones at that. We were always going to get a downgrade after her. Unfortunately, while the Fifth Generation would right the course eventually, Pokémon Black & White fumbled the initial landing.
Unova: Alder
Team: Accelgor, Bouffalant, Druddigon, Vanilluxe, Escavalier, Volcarona
Other partners: Conkeldurr, Braviary, Reuniclus, Krookodile, Chandelure
What if a mosaic of Jesus came to life as a drifter? That’s Alder. There is stuff to him: his love of insects, his pacifism, and the death of his first Pokémon that led him to abandon his search for strength. Mostly, he’s an old timey man in the modern land of Unova, eschewing conveniences like the PC box. He carries himself that way, with a haircut that evokes a Byzantine Christian halo. But that vaguely enigmatic comportment is kind of it, unless you count his deeply gross flirting in the anime. Games as ambitious as Black & White called for someone greater, someone… more.
Honestly, what makes Alder so frustrating is that this nondescript guy is at the top of the Unova League, which is filled with wonderful and over the top personalities. His underlings are a horror writer, a street fighter, a princess, and a gambling vampire. Shauntal, Marshal, Caitlin, and Grimsley might be the series’ best Elite Four, but they’re all operating under this guy (conversely, Cynthia’s E4 might be the series’ weakest). And you don’t even fight Alder the first time, making him a disappointment if you bother to challenge the League again in the postgame.
With such a thinly-sketched personality, Alder is most easily defined by the things around him, i.e. his team. The biggest is his ace, Volcarona. It’s a gorgeous, giant moth whose fiery wings form an abstract halo of their own. It’s also uncatchable until the postgame, making it very new. He has two other Bug-types on him, which is notable given how rarely they’re used by high ranking bosses. Every member feels right individually, especially Volcarona, but they lack a cohesion the other teams have. Overall, Alder doesn’t feel like he fits, but not in a way that gels with his premise as a man out of time. It’s hard not to treat him as an afterthought, and perhaps that, even more than his expressed lack of interest in the League, made it easy to replace him.
Unova (redux): Iris
Team: Hydreigon, Druddigon, Archeops, Aggron, Lapras, Haxorus
Other partners: Axew, Fraxure, Salamance, Naganadel
Iris is a much better take on these ideas. In White, she’s the final Gym Leader in Opelucid City (Black has a different character), but in Pokémon Black 2 & White 2, sequels set two years later, she’s the series’ youngest Champion. Opelucid City is interesting because it wildly diverges depending on the game; it has the same urban architecture and demographics, but it’s rustic in White and futuristic in Black. Iris also hails from a secretive “village of dragons.” So as a product of the greatest modernity and antiquity Unova has to offer, the scrappy kid is a great symbol of the dichotomies—natural vs artificial, truth vs ideals—that power the land.
Unova is also important as the start of the Pokémon series’ sincere if flawed commitment to racial diversity. It’s the first major region based on a location outside Japan (a nation whose government has historically downplayed or erased its diversity), moving to the multicultural New York City and New Jersey. There was a notable uptick in characters of color from previous Generations, and future games expanded on it. The Gen V games see their characters’ differences and outlooks as a point of pride. It’s also where you get the “ancient vs modern” motif, along with Team Plasma’s goal of forcibly segregating Pokémon and people. Black & White treat racial, political, and ideological diversity as exactly the same, which is problematic (and their localizations had to redesign a character whose outfit fell into racist caricature). But their direction did lead the franchise to becoming stronger and more inclusive. Iris being the first Champion of color is good for its own sake, but it’s also an extension of these specific values.
As another Dragon-type Champion who hails from a secret town of dragon tamers, Iris inherently draws comparisons to Lance. Positively, I’d say. Her dragons are all unique and all from Unova itself: Druddigon, the pseudo-Legendary Hydreigon, and her team leader Haxorus. Her others are rare, just different kinds of rare. Lance also did that, of course, but her cadre of Lapras, Archeops, and Aggron is interesting because their dragon theming is so much softer. You get the sense that she carefully chose each partner, which matches her role in the Pokémon anime.
Course-correcting for Alder also makes her specifically emblematic of Black 2 & White 2. The first games were novel; their main story had only new Pokémon and villains who challenged the franchise’s very premise. But the smaller Pokédex was limiting, many new Monsters received poor reception, and the plot flopped. The sequels brought in a ton of old Pokémon, made a more traditionally evil New Team Plasma, and were safer but more enjoyable for it. They’re also straight sequels, which is novel as well. Iris growing from Gym Leader to the country’s toughest Trainer is exciting—and something we hadn’t seen since Gold & Silver. So she isn’t just repping a region better than Alder, but repping all four of its games. Good show all around.
Unova (redux): N
Team: Zekrom / Reshiram, Carracosta, Vanilluxe, Archeops, Zoroark, Klinklang
Other partners: given his practice of having a different team with every battle, genuinely far too many to name
Ultimately, though, both Alder and Iris take a backseat to Natural Harmonia Gropius, the one-off champion of the original Black & White. It’s through him that the dichotomies of Unova became literalized. Much like Blue, the game climaxes with N having beaten Alder and taken his crown right before you reach him. And much like Blue, he’s also effectively the main rival—your formal rivals Cheren and Bianca flame out pretty quickly.
But by being the figurehead of Team Plasma, and by fighting for either the truth or ideals of a world in which Pokémon and humans are kept separate, N is the theme of Unova incarnate. In a land of stark dichotomies, presided over by opposing dragons Reshiram and Zekrom, his perspective is the starkest of all. He ends up with one dragon on his side, and you’re given the other. The game literally forces you to include it on your team, and yours is weaker just to take advantage of its unique attack (which does double damage after being hit by the other dragon’s unique attack).
Other than Reshiram and Zekrom, N’s team is average. It’s got the Gen V sort of mascot Zoroark, two Fossil Pokémon, and charming Vanilluxe and Klinklang. The rarer ones represent his role as the Plasma King, but the lopsided and uncompetitive design fits N’s ethos. He’s friendly, but backed by uncoordinated strength. And while you got to see Blue add each team member, N gets a lot out of the opposite; in every prior fight, he’d only challenge you with local Pokémon he befriended. So you know he’s close with these ones, too.
Technically, N is only Champion in one fight (he’s not even the final boss). Bulbapedia doesn’t credit him as one, presumably since he’s not inducted by the time you catch up to him. Alder is the final opponent in all subsequent League challenges. But N’s the most important character in Generation V, just as Cynthia was in Gen IV. And he carries the role of a Unovan Champion the best—or at least, the most aggressively.
Kalos: Diantha
Team: Hawlucha, Tyrantrum, Aurorus, Gourgeist, Goodra, Mega Gardevoir
Other partners: Keldeo
While N symbolized Unovan culture through his attempt to upend it, Diantha effortlessly represents the land of Kalos. It’s the seat of class and haute couture; Pokémon X & Y relished the opportunity to craft an ersatz-France. There are fancy clothes shops, cafés, ancient palaces, and a Champion who’s the spitting image of Audrey Hepburn. If Steven and Wallace were backed by the environment, and Iris and Alder by time, she brings classical fame to bear.
A major thread of X & Y, and a main inspiration for Kalos, is a motif of “beauty.” In the region, that means classical art and giving your wild poodle a fancy haircut. The villain is an old money ecofascist who would rather destroy the world than watch “lesser” folk dull its splendor. His most notable early moment is complaining that Diantha, a beautiful and retired movie star, doesn’t resent aging. That’s Kalos in a nutshell. It’s filled with beauty and horrors done in the name of preserving that beauty (its backstory involves a king who committed genocide to resurrect his dead Pokémon). We can then see Diantha as rising to the top of the nation for her beauty, flair, but also her grace in understanding them. Too much of Kalos fails to get it, but she does.
Diantha’s main partner, naturally, is both classic and forward thinking. It’s Gardevoir from Ruby & Sapphire, but with access to Mega Evolution. X & Y’s gimmick of giving old Pokémon souped-up forms only spread the love to older creatures, not any of the seventy-two new ones, but the Champion would need to draw on it for the eleventh hour. And of the twenty-eight that got a Mega Evolution, Gardevoir was the only option: pretty, popular, and immensely strong. It’s a perfect capstone to a strong but maybe too familiar team; Diantha is our fifth subject thus far to have Fossil Pokémon on hand. Though Gourgeist is a fun, left field option.
I think the somewhat less exciting team does weaken Diantha’s place in the canon a bit, as does her lack of involvement in X & Y’s goofy plot, but she’s cool. Like Cynthia, her place in the world is concrete: a symbol of celebrity, beauty, and art who turns those things into power. She’s the natural leader for the Kalos League. So it fits that her successor would be the kind of person who doesn’t just head his institution, but creates it outright.
Alola: Kukui
Team: Lycanroc, Alolan Ninetales, Braviary, Magnezone, Snorlax, Incineroar / Primarina / or Decidueye
Of the regional Pokémon Leagues, Alola’s is the most recent; it only exists by the end of Pokémon Sun & Moon. A subplot involves the game’s professor, the animated and aggressive Kukui, building it. He wants to show the legitimacy of the region’s Pokémon training to the world, but on the world’s terms. After an adventure spent on an island-hopping religious ceremony and a battle to stop an evil CEO from unleashing Eldritch horrors, it’s odd. It also makes Kukui technically illegitimate, as he never reaches Champion status (he and you are equally ranked challengers). But he fits by being both the final boss and the head of Alola’s new League.
In an island chain whose leaders are looking inward, towards the spiritual Island Trial, the prof’s looking out. Only three of his Pokémon even debuted in Alola: Lycanroc, Alolan Ninetales, and whichever starter you and your rival didn’t pick. The latter is a nod to Blue (while explaining what the hell happens to the poor, neglected Pokémon no one chooses). The Ninetales represents regional forms, one of Sun & Moon’s best ideas. It’s an otherwise bland team that could stand to have more Gen VII creatures, but Kukui’s sheer drive—a kind you never see in other Pokémon professors—papers that over. A shame he doesn’t do it in his luchador costume, though.
His energy also fits the games’ general motif of “life.” Alola is a sparkling region teeming with wonderful biodiversity (which, again, makes it a shame his team reps so little of it). It’s a place where Legendary Pokémon are hometown deities and unique habitats thrive. Kukui wants to promote and extend that energy. His goal isn’t interrogated as far as it could be, and it drags behind your encounters with the Totem Pokémon, but it fits. After living in this region, you’ll probably think it deserves to be highlighted, too.
Due to the structure of the Alola League, only the player manages to secure the Champion title. Instead, rematches give you a randomly selected final challenger. Kukui has to share space with supporting characters like Gladion, Sophocles, and random trainers with no prior role in the plot. He is the only one to carry a full team of six, which gives him some notoriety. But it’s frustrating. Even before Sun & Moon came out, Kukui was popular for his assertive attitude and hands-on take on Pokémon biology (and his Strong Badian chronic shirtlessness), and crossing swords with him is fun. So him going from final boss to potential final boss is a letdown.
Alola (redux): Hau
Team: Alolan Raichu, Flareon / Vaporeon / Leafeon, Tauros, Noivern, Crabominable, Primarina / Decidueye / Incineroar
Other partners: Tapu Koko
Pokémon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon were controversial extended cuts of Sun & Moon with additions both liked (more Pokémon to catch!) and disliked (worse writing and plotting). So naturally, Kukui was replaced as final boss by the deeply unpopular rival. Look, Hau is fine. He’s uninteresting, and his sheer niceness can get overbearing, but he’s fine. But he doesn’t work as even a prospective final boss, because it’s a role that needs teeth. It’s good to have Champions who are honorable and pleasant in defeat, but dude barely seems to even want to win.
Hau’s team is similarly fine: an Alolan Raichu, an Eeveelution, and a Crabominable like his grandpa Hala. He also brings a starter, like Kukui, but since his starter in all four games is the one weak to yours, it’s less dramatic. You were at an advantage every time you fought him, and now you’re at an advantage again. So just beat him and move on to Team Rainbow Rocket.
Galar: Leon
Team: Aegislash, Dragapult, Haxorus, Seismitoad / Mr. Rime / Rhyperior, Cinderace / Inteleon / Rillaboom, Gigantamax Charizard
Other partners: Eternatus, Calyrex (Ice Rider)
While previous games obfuscated their Champion until the final battle, Pokémon Sword & Shield make clear that Leon is your target from the get-go. The requisite scene welcoming you to the world of Pokémon is of him defending his title. He’s your neighbor and sponsor for entering the Gym Challenge. Your rival, Hop, is his less talented brother whose identity revolves around usurping him. So less mysterious than Cynthia or Alder, and more approachable than Lance or Iris.
But he’s also notably more clueless than any of them to a degree that’s rather startling. He’s awful with directions. According to Opal, the Gym Leader who forces Trainers to take quizzes, he got an atrocious score despite crushing her in their fight. His catchphrase is the dumb “let’s have a champion time!” He’s a tough customer, and photogenic, but he seems a bit vacuous outside of battles. In other words, Leon’s… kind of a himbo.
And this makes him perfect as the Champion of Galar. Inspired by Britain’s love of soccer, it’s a nation of obsessive sports fanatics. Its culture runs off a radioactive alien whose energy causes spectacular, super-sized fights. The “villain” team is just a town of hooligans stanning one Trainer. Far more than anywhere else, Pokémon battles are a spectator sport, and Leon’s the biggest jock in the land. Fittingly, his favorite partner is the fan favorite Charizard, making him one of the few Champions to eschew a main partner from his own Generation (though its Gigantimax form is new). He’s a celebrity, a hot, stupid, immensely talented celebrity. His gaudy yet surprisingly modern outfit sells it: a star athlete in a region where athletics are king.
Leon packs an appropriately aggro team. Alongside Charizard, and the starter who’s strong against yours, he packs the hardy Aegislash and Dragapult. His fourth Pokémon also depends on his starter, which makes things at least a bit dynamic. It’s not exactly balanced, in that he can have two Dragon-types and two Fire-types, but that also fits his personality. He doesn’t need a perfect team, just a dramatic and crowd-pleasing one. If only it had a couple more Pokémon from Galar itself.
Galar (redux): Mustard
Team: Mienshao, Luxray, Corviknight, Lycanroc, Kommo-o, Gigantimax Urshifu (Rapid Strike or Single Strike Style)
Mustard is less important; he hasn’t been Champion for decades by the time you fight him at the end of The Isle of Armor, one of Sword & Shield’s two expansions. He is fun, though. The trope of the wise, ancient master who’s secretly wacky is well-worn, but he does it charmingly enough. Having a mostly Fighting-Type team with a few outliers follows characters like Lance and Iris. His final battle, where his Urshifu and yours tango (his will Gigantimax and have chosen the martial arts style yours eschewed), is cool. Ultimately, though, his best addition to the canon is worldbuilding.
Gen VIII was about competition, with Leon being the sportsman n’est plus ultra. Mustard had that role fifty years ago; he quit after the then-chairman of the Pokémon League demanded he take a dive. His story shows a kind of dark past for Galar that the franchise largely avoids depicting in its main regions. The Isle of Armor, his private island, is a mini-region in which he’s an untitled leader. His world is just based on training and study and learning about the local Pokémon, a bit like Alola. In that sense he acts as a window into different ways a Champion can behave. The other expansion, The Crown Tundra, features another ex-Champion, but Peony’s largely meaningless. Mustard’s the one who adds to the canon.
Paldea: Geeta
Team: Espartha, Gogoat, Veluza, Avalugg, Kingambit, Glimmora
Initially, I had trouble figuring Geeta out. In Pokémon Scarlet & Violet, she’s the Champion, but also chairwoman of the Paldean Pokémon League and a board member of Naranja and Uva Academies, each game’s respective main school. She’s imperious, stylish, disconcertingly tall, and bureaucratic. But that doesn’t fit Paldea at all. The region is the franchise’s first open world. There are few loading zones, barely any hard barriers, and incredible openness. Its human symbol of ultimate power should be a wanderer like Alder, or a punk like the members of Team Star, right?
Here’s my idea. For all of Paldea’s openness in the game, it’s rather regulated in the story. Pokémon Centers are everywhere for weary travelers. The vast majority of optional trainers are fellow students. Perhaps to accommodate the class (and certainly to accommodate players), the region’s life and economy are clearly built around the school’s yearly Treasure Hunt. Which means the region’s as much a sandbox to your fictional classmates as it is to you, the player. It’s far safer than the terrifying Hisui of Pokémon Legends: Arceus. The scariest place, primordial Area Zero, is scary because it’s a no man’s land devoid of shops, centers, or systemic support. In this context, Geeta is the functionary that keeps the land running, even dutifully watching your Gym matches. Beating her is proving your mastery of her system.
There’s more to her as well, thankfully. Her team is alright, but more to the point it’s more interesting than the last few we’ve had. Four members are new; each is unique, tough, and exciting. The standouts are Kingambit, an absurdly cool evolution of Unova’s Bisharp whose fighting style is based on avenging its fallen comrades, and the enchanting poison crystal Glimmora. It’s flawed, though. The most glaring issue is that Glimmora’s her final team member when its power depends on being out in front (perhaps her AI could have been programmed to lead with it, throw out Toxic Spikes, and recall it on the second turn). And while her new partners are cool, the old Pokémon she packs are generic and easily dispatched. Despite that, she’s likely to be tough thanks to Scarlet & Violet’s open-endedness, a quality missing from modern Champions. It’s also fun to have one who isn’t particularly liked by her own institution, going by how many bosses are exasperated by her micromanagement. Honestly, Geeta’s biggest problem might simply be the one all of Gen IX’s characters share: being obscured by the nonlinearity.
Paldea (redux): Nemona
Team: Lycanroc, Goodra, Dudunsparce, Orthworm, Quaquaval / Meowscarada / Skeledirge
Another way in which Paldea differs from other regions is its idea of “Champion.” Instead of a position, it’s a rank several people hold. Nemona, your most enthusiastic rival, earned it during last year’s Treasure Hunt. She’s the final boss of the Victory Road plot (the questline that houses the “eight Gyms and the Elite Four” structure of other games), as the player’s journey is spurred on by her. After beating Geeta and becoming a Champion, your match with Nemora has no stakes other than being able to finally challenge your friend at her level. And that’s enough.
After seven Generations of eccentric adults, Nemona takes us full circle as yet another take on Blue. She’s a young, hyper-competitive first opponent turned end boss who’s always ahead of you. Her team also calls back to him in being varied. There’s a pseudo-Legendary in Goodra, a goofy weirdo in Dudunsparce, but also early game captures like Pawmot and Lycanroc. Orthworm references one of the bosses you may have seen in the “Path of Legends” quest. It’s capped by the starter who’s weak to yours, though her competence makes that less of a problem than when Hau did it. This is a team you could have formed over the course of a casual adventure, but we’ve also seen other Champions use some of her Pokémon.
So while nothing about her is particularly new or innovative, that makes her a fitting Champion for Paldea’s wild, unkempt spirit. You go on this journey, and you win, and it’s all for a friendship. Your friend is a fair and satisfying rival, one who’ll probably hold her own unless you actively sought out every optional Trainer. Her team is familiar enough and surprising enough, with odder partners standing alongside normal final boss fare. And all six are pretty strong. Nemona is a good example of a Champion working specifically because they’re good and not great.
Conclusion:
What makes a Pokémon Champion? Is it the team? The role in the story? The fashion? Well, it’s all of that and more, but I think much of it boils down to one issue: this is a franchise with a ton of characters, human and Monster, who all risk crowding each other out. A Champion isn’t just a final boss, or a plot-relevant NPC, but someone who needs to believably stand above the rest. N was an all-purpose antagonist, but all of them are rivals, allies, and so many other things. That’s a tall order. But there are avenues a Champion can take to secure their role.
First, you need them to be iconic. Memorable and attractive fashion choices help a lot, especially in a series like Pokémon where sartorial quality is mixed. Their teams should feel special, as though every member absolutely had to be there. Plus, you can solve that issue of the people competing against the Pokémon for attention by tying the two together. If you’ve been playing Pokémon as long as I, you instinctively associate all Dragonite with Lance. Diantha’s Mega Gardevoir and Leon’s Gigantimax Charizard use new mechanics to do the same. Everyone in this franchise is a brand in some way; use that.
On that note, personality helps! Each of these characters is supportive, honorable, serious, and constantly striving for power. Bog standard. You need more, which is why it helps for them to feel real and have interests beyond “be the very best.” Cynthia directs you to the Dialga / Palkia plot, Wallace connects to Contests, Geeta is a manager, but all three bring you into a part of the world. By contrast, look at Hau and Trace. They’re nothing but Trainers, unthreatening and bland, and that lessens them as antagonists. And these jamokes are antagonists. Their job is to be the ultimate challenge, not the series’ living gods or supervillains. They have to be no less imposing than crooks like Giovanni or Legendary Pokémon like Giratina. It’s a unique foe, someone who’s not a villain (other than N) but who eclipses the actual villains in threat.
That leads to one more thing, which is that these games are RPGs, these people are final bosses, and they need to be, if not necessarily super hard, at least a step up. Keep their levels high. Make their teams hard to break. Add Pokémon that are hard to find, a pseudo-Legendary if possible. Have their Elite Four flunkies be tough as well. You should feel like you conquered something big. What’s great, though, is that this synergizes with those other virtues—after all, many of the toughest Pokémon are the most impactful. Milotic is famously beautiful, tanks attacks like nobody’s business, and is near impossible to catch. Eye catching in every way. Its very presence bolsters Wallace.
Plenty of the Pokémon on these rosters manage that: Dragonite, Metagross, Spiritomb, Garchomp, Volcarona, Glimmora, and more. They string together different aspects of their companions, whether a strong look or a complex team or an attitude that stays with you. It’s synergy, and the Champions that do it best tend to end up the strongest. But this isn’t just a lesson for Pokémon. Every boss in every game does this, or at least tries to. Through Game Freak’s regular iterations on this model, we can see what this kind of foe needs. The virtues are the same, even if the sixteen people here reach for them in different ways. Challenge, style, and presence. Hit those three, make ‘em work together, and your final boss will shine like the best of these folks.
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