It started, as all great disasters do, with Pikachu and a Poké Ball.
Picture this: Final Destination. Four players. One brave emulator and a suspiciously modded version of Super Smash Bros. Brawl running on a Switch that might’ve seen some things. My Toon Link, perched precariously on the edge, is locked in a desperate skirmish with Kirby, Sonic, and a Jigglypuff named “420blaziken.” The usual chaos. Then, someone — and we still don’t know who — flips the ssbb f pokeballs switch.
Suddenly, it’s not Smash anymore. It’s Pokémon Colosseum on bath salts.
Poké Balls rain from the sky like judgment. Someone yells, “WHY IS THERE A WOBBUFFET IN THE BLAST ZONE?!” A Goldeen flops heroically across the stage, achieving nothing but comic relief. Entei shows up and decides to casually vaporize half the roster. And me? I’m launched offscreen by a Snorlax belly-flopping from the heavens while frantically trying to shield.
Welcome to Super Smash Bros. under Poké Ball law.
When the Poké Ball Hits, It Hits Hard
If you’ve ever played Smash with items on (you monster), then you know the Poké Ball is the divine roulette of the franchise. It’s the cosmic dice roll that can either summon a god-tier Legendary or the evolutionary equivalent of a wet sponge. It’s a mechanic forged in absurdity — one that asks the eternal question: what if combat was entirely determined by your childhood favorites?
There is no item more deceptive, more intoxicating, more capable of flipping a match on its head than the humble Poké Ball. It doesn’t matter that you have Final Smashes enabled, or that someone’s mastered wave-dashing (we see you, melee-heads) — once that Poké Ball hits the ground, it becomes a singularity of attention. Everyone goes for it. Everyone has to.
Togepi? Game-changer. Mewtwo? You’ve ascended. Goldeen again? May Arceus have mercy.
The Cultural Legacy of the Poké Ball in Smash
Let’s get real: Smash Bros. is as much a celebration of Nintendo nostalgia as it is a fighting game. And nothing screams childhood dreams louder than watching your favorite Pokémon team up with Link, Mario, or a space-faring bounty hunter. It’s a fever dream that somehow works.
But the Poké Ball is different. It doesn’t just reference Pokémon. It summons them. It turns Smash into a temporary, beautifully broken crossover with the Pokémon franchise. One second you’re tactically spacing your opponent; the next, you’re trying to dodge a Suicune blizzard because someone got lucky and now the entire screen is flash-frozen chaos.
And over time, the roster of summonables has only grown more ridiculous. The older games gave us the classics: Electrode, Meowth, Hitmonlee — nostalgia bait with a hint of punch. But by Brawl, and especially with the mod scene going wild, the ssbb f pokeballs switch unlocks a veritable zoo of mayhem. You’re not just fighting each other; you’re fighting the entire Pokédex.
A Strategic Nightmare, or a Glorious Equalizer?
Here’s where it gets interesting. Are Poké Balls just chaotic noise, or are they a legitimate strategy?
Let’s break it down.
In a competitive setting, Poké Balls are frowned upon — sacrilege, I know. They introduce randomness into a scene obsessed with frame data and hitboxes. But in casual play (read: the way 95% of us actually experience the game), they’re the great equalizer. They level the playing field. Suddenly, your annoying cousin who mainlines Ike and spams neutral-B gets KO’d by a wild Palkia flipping the stage upside-down. Poetic justice.
The Poké Ball is the closest Smash has to a prank button — part strategic drop, part troll mechanic. Do you risk your position to grab it? Do you bait your opponent into running for it, only to punish them? Do you throw it straight down and pray it’s not Goldeen again?
And when you throw in modded or emulated versions — where the ssbb f pokeballs switch can toggle a near-endless stream of monsters onto the battlefield — the game stops being about technical skill. It becomes about adaptation. It becomes about luck, sure, but also intuition, psychology, drama.
It’s Smash as soap opera. And we’re here for it.
The Poké Ball Multiverse
Modders, of course, took the chaos and dialed it up to eleven. Want every Poké Ball to summon only Legendaries? Done. Want non-Pokémon to come out of Poké Balls (hi, Shrek)? Also done. Want shiny versions? Overpowered moves? A version where every Poké Ball is actually a time bomb in disguise? Welcome to Brawl+, baby.
There’s a deep, nerdy joy to flipping the ssbb f pokeballs switch in one of these Frankenstein versions and watching the game lose its mind. You stop playing to win and start playing for the clips. The kind of moments that live forever in your group chat, accompanied by texts like “yo what just happened” and crying emojis.
Poké Balls are the unpredictable spice of Smash. They are the TikTok chaos edit of game mechanics. And they are beautiful.
The Definitive, Totally Accurate Poké Ball Moment Tier List
S-Tier: “Burn It All Down”
- Entei: Drops a firestorm so hot it should come with a war crime warning. Whole screen goes orange.
- Snorlax: The flying fatman of doom. Excellent for dramatic slow-motion replays.
- Arceus (modded in): God said “you lose.”
A-Tier: “Strategic Nuke”
- Electrode: You think you’re safe. You’re not.
- Suicune: Elegance and ice lasers? The perfect package.
- Palkia (Stage Flip Edition): Who needs gravity?
B-Tier: “Tactical Advantage, Probably”
- Staryu: Precision beams, Star Wars vibes.
- Gardevoir: Reflects projectiles and crushes projectile mains’ dreams.
- Weavile: Quick feet and mean attitude.
C-Tier: “Why Are You Here?”
- Metagross: Flattens people. Slowly. But… cool.
- Hitmonlee: Big kick. Medium impact.
- Chespin: Exists.
D-Tier: “Go Sit Down”
- Goldeen: The fish. Again. Why does it even have a sprite?
- Wobbuffet: Only useful if someone else messes up. Also looks like he regrets everything.
- Togepi: May randomly help. May cause widespread sadness.
F-Tier: “The Poké Ball Didn’t Work”
- Empty Poké Balls (in some mods): A cruel joke. Zero vibes.
Final Smash (Of Thought)
The Poké Ball is not just an item — it’s an experience. It’s the closest Smash comes to gambling, storytelling, and childhood wish fulfillment all at once. It’s the only mechanic that can make a seasoned pro and a button-mashing noob both scream in equal parts terror and delight. And when you flip that ssbb f pokeballs switch, you’re not just tweaking a setting. You’re unleashing Smash in its purest, most chaotic form.
So the next time you’re setting up a game night, skip the Fox dittos and Final Destination sweat-fest. Turn on the Poké Balls. Crank the item spawn to max. Embrace the glorious randomness.
And may your Goldeen never flop alone.