My phone buzzed with a Major League Baseball tweet and I smirked at the answers. The dugout had moved from baseballs to Pikachu, and a small alarm went off in my head. I asked myself whether these pros were naming childhood mascots or confessing a blind spot.
I’ve followed MLB long enough to know when a trend is surface-level and when it signals something wider. You and I both grew up with cards and clubhouse banter; this felt like a cultural report card written in emojis. I’ll walk you through what players said, why it matters for fandom and brands, and where the real missed plays happened.
Who’s that Pokémon pic.twitter.com/RacPWD7yZr
— MLB (@MLB) April 23, 2026
In the clubhouse, a phone screen lit up with an MLB poll about favorite Pokémon.
The league asked players to name a favorite Pokémon for the franchise’s 30th anniversary and the answers rolled in like inning after inning of safe plays. Most picks stuck to the original 151, which is fine—nostalgia wins—but the volume of Pikachu responses was pronounced enough to raise an eyebrow. I felt the tug between easy answers and earned fandom, and you probably have seen the same: social posts that trade nuance for instant relatability.
At-bat choices revealed familiar names and missed opportunities.
Here’s the breakdown of notable picks from MLB players — yes, actual big-league names said these, and yes, I checked the official tweets and replies from the Pokémon account and MLB Network.
- Charizard — Mike Trout (Los Angeles Angels), Tarik Skubal (Detroit Tigers)
- Blastoise — Pete Alonso (Baltimore Orioles)
- Bulbasaur — Ben Rice (New York Yankees)
- Mewtwo — Masyn Winn (St. Louis Cardinals)
- Snorlax — Hunter Brown (Houston Astros)
- Zapdos — Jake Burger (Texas Rangers)
- Dialga — Jordan Walker (St. Louis Cardinals)
- Dragonite — Jacob Wilson (Athletics)
- Torchic / Blaziken — Steven Kwan (Cleveland Guardians)
- Pikachu — Michael Harris II (Atlanta Braves), Shohei Ohtani (Los Angeles Dodgers), Fernando Tatis Jr. (San Diego Padres), Vladimir Guerrero Jr. (Toronto Blue Jays), Chase DeLauter (Cleveland Guardians), Oneil Cruz (Pittsburgh Pirates), Julio Rodriguez (Seattle Mariners), Geraldo Perdomo (Arizona Diamondbacks), Byron Buxton (Minnesota Twins), and several more
I respect the originals—Charizard and Blastoise are legends—but the group answers suggested a comfort-first playbook rather than a scouting report. Their roster answers read like a batting lineup of clichés.
In the dugout, a young player quietly collected cards between innings.
Colton Cowser of the Orioles admitted collecting cards and being four away from completing the Mega Evolution set. That detail matters because it shows how player engagement with Pokémon can be deeper than a casual tweet. If more players played that role, leagues and brands would have richer ambassadorship to work with. I’ve seen how brands such as Topps and Panini leverage athlete collectors; a player who actually curates cards becomes a bridge between communities.
Elite ball knowledge
— Pokémon (@Pokemon) April 23, 2026
Which Pokémon did MLB players choose?
Most picks came from the original roster of 151: Charizard, Blastoise, Bulbasaur, Mewtwo, Snorlax, and a heavy stack of Pikachu mentions. A few dug into later generations—Dialga and Torchic—but the overall pattern favored familiarity over discovery.
Why are so many players picking Pikachu?
Pikachu acts as cultural shorthand. For many players in their 20s, Pikachu was the default childhood ambassador—TV, toys, early cards. That shared shorthand makes it an easy, low-risk answer on a public MLB channel. It’s also a marketing dream for Pokémon and MLB collaborations, which explains why the official Pokémon account amplified the moment on Twitter.
In fan conversations, the reaction split between amusement and disappointment.
I saw two camps: die-hard fans who wished players had shown more variety, and casual observers who cheered whatever made the timeline light. This split matters if you care about engagement metrics: a player who names a niche mon can spark deeper threads, card trades, and local retail buzz. For example, a signed first-edition Pikachu PSA 10 can trade hands for $300 (€279) or more—currency in fandom turns into real-world value when athletes add stories.
If you run social for a team or brand, this is a playbook moment. Get players involved beyond a one-question poll: film a locker-room draft of Pokémon, tie it into community card nights, or partner with Topps for limited runs. That’s where you turn a throwaway answer into an owned moment.
Pikachu is a slipstream of nostalgia. Will MLB players keep giving the easy hits, or will someone step up with a curveball of personality?