Moves are the lifeblood of the Pokemon battling universe. Without them, it’d just be cute creatures standing around, staring at each other awkwardly like it’s the world’s most silent standoff.
Moves give battles that strategic crunch, that cinematic flair, that "holy Arceus, did you see that Hyper Beam?" But not all moves are created equal. Some are majestic. Some are clutch. Some make you question the fabric of game design.
And then there are moves so bafflingly bad you start wondering if Game Freak lost a bet. Some of them are so ridiculous you’d think they were invented as a dare.
Drinking in battle? Might as well make hydration a fighting technique. Oh wait. That’s literally a move. Cheers, face palm and all.
Generation 1: Constrict - The Wet Noodle of Attacks
Let’s take it back to the pixelated days of Red and Blue, where your imagination did most of the graphical heavy lifting. Generation 1 gave us iconic powerhouses like Thunderbolt, Earthquake, and Psychic.
And then there was Constrict.
Picture Wrap’s underachieving younger sibling who flunked out of Pokemon school. With a laughable base power of 10 and a paltry 30% chance to lower Speed, it’s the combat equivalent of throwing spaghetti at your opponent and hoping they get tangled in it.
And when you realize even Wrap, a move now seen as mediocre at best, was a better option back then? Yeah. Constrict wasn't just bad. It was historically bad.
Generation 2: Present - RNGesus, Take the Wheel
Enter Delibird, a Pokemon that looks like it’s about to hand you a birthday gift and then ruin your party. And what’s in its sack of mystery? Present.
A move so chaotic it makes coin flips look consistent. You hit the opponent for either 40, 80, or 120 base damage, or, plot twist, you heal them. Yes, you read that correctly. Your attack might actually restore the opponent’s HP.
What kind of self-sabotaging nonsense is that? It’s like entering a boxing ring, swinging a punch, and occasionally handing your opponent a protein shake instead. Who signed off on this bad Pokemon move?
Generation 3: Grudge - A Salty Exit with No Bite
The third generation brought us a lot of spicy additions to the meta, but Grudge was not one of them. You use this move. Your Pokemon faints. And then, as some kind of revenge clause, your opponent loses all their PP for the move that knocked you out.
Sounds cool, right? Until you remember, you literally have to die to activate it. And it doesn’t even guarantee your opponent suffers, if they switch moves or switch Pokemon, they don’t care.
Compared to Destiny Bond, which actually takes the opponent down with you, Grudge is like throwing your controller across the room and hoping your opponent suddenly becomes bad at the game or something.
Generation 4: Trump Card - A Move Built for Nobody
Trump Card sounds powerful. Presidential, even. But it’s as useful as a wet sock in a thunderstorm. Its power scales based on how few times you’ve used it.
You get one use at max power of 200, but only when it’s the last PP of the move. So, you have to use this dud repeatedly, all while doing baby damage, just to get a payoff you might not live long enough to use.
That’s not strategy. That’s suffering. Rage made the same mistake in Gen 1. You’d think they’d learn.
Generation 5: Synchronoise - The Self-Sabotage Symphony
Have you ever wanted a move that punishes you for being too compatible with your opponent? No? Well, too bad. Synchronoise only hits if your opponent shares the exact same type as you.
For the mostly Psychic-type users of this move, that means they’re likely facing other Psychic-type Pokemon, who, surprise, resist Psychic damage. It’s a bad Generation 5 move that screams, “I want to fail, but I want to do it stylishly.”
Cool name, terrible execution. It’s like showing up to a sword fight with a glow stick.
Generation 6: Celebrate & Hold Hands - The Participation Trophies of Combat
Celebrate and Hold Hands aren’t moves. They’re congratulatory gestures. Celebrate literally does nothing except show some fanfare. Again, Hold Hands is for doubles battles and does nothing useful except make your Pokemon look like they’re reenacting a school play about friendship.
These were event-exclusive moves, too, which means Game Freak went out of their way to say, “Here’s something utterly useless, but rare!” The only battle these moves win is against your expectations.
Generation 7: Gear Up - Too Niche to Function
Gear Up could have been cool. Boosting both Attack and Special Attack of allies is neat in theory. But in practice, it only affects Pokemon with the Plus or Minus ability.
You know how many Pokemon have that? Barely any.
And even fewer are relevant in battle. It’s like designing a universal remote that only works on discontinued TVs from 2003. Klingklang and Magearna were the only ones who could even use it, and even then, you'd have to build your entire team around an ability nobody uses. Great idea. Terrible execution. Again.
Generation 8: Tea Time - A Sip of Madness
Oh boy. Polteageist’s signature move, Tea Time, might be the most absurd concept of a move in a franchise full of absurd concepts.
When used, every Pokemon on the field immediately consumes its held berry. That’s it. That’s the move. No damage. No fancy effect. You just make everyone have a snack mid-battle like it’s a forced afternoon tea party.
This isn’t tactics. This is a chaotic Mad Hatter cosplay that somehow made it past QA. And in singles? It’s almost always pointless. Unless your grand plan is to... help your opponent digest early?
Generation 9: Twin Beam - Why Tho, Twin Bro?
Twin Beam is Farigiraf’s flashy new signature move in Generation 9. It hits twice at 40 base power each, Psychic type. Sounds fine until you realize that a regular Psychic move deals more damage with none of the gimmick.
What’s the point? Maybe it breaks substitutes? Cool. So can literally any multi-hit move. But at least those have synergy with abilities like Skill Link or flinch potential.
Twin Beam is the equivalent of spending two turns doing the work of one and calling it innovation.
Sometimes, Less is Just Less
The Pokemon world is bursting with creativity. For every ground-shattering Earthquake, there’s a Splash. For every searing Flamethrower, there’s a Celebrate. It’s part of the charm.
But let’s be honest, some moves feel like they were slapped in last-minute after a brainstorming session that ran too long and involved too much caffeine. Still, we love them in a weird way.
They remind us that even in a universe of dragons and psychic ducks, not everything makes sense, and maybe, that’s okay. But if you ever lose a battle because your Delibird healed the enemy instead of knocking it out, feel free to throw your Pokéball directly into the sun.