His name was Red.
When I was younger, I was eager. I was eager to get out of Pallet Town, explore the world, and become the best pokémon trainer in Kanto. I was the most popular kid in town, though I later came to realize I was only popular due to my grandfather, Professor Oak, being the famous person he was. I was popular by extension, so to speak. The one kid who didn't like me was the one kid who I wanted to do so more than anyone else. He was an average guy, as far as Pallet Town kids go. Average, except for his aptitude. Everything came naturally to him, math, writing, science, and, most importantly, pokémon knowledge. He knew every pokémon in Kanto by name. You could ask him about a pokémon and he knew what it was strong against, what it was weak against, when it evolved, when it learned specific moves, and how to properly train each and every one of them. The thing was that in those days, you had to be ten to own a pokémon. He couldn't wait until his tenth birthday, when he would get his first pokémon.
His name was Red. My name is Blue. We shared a birthday, and we were the bitterest of rivals.