Trusty Sidekick

I've always liked the notion of the sidekick in superhero lore. I'm not saying I wanted to run around on rooftops in tight green shorts, though in third grade I did dress as Robin, the boy-wonder. I think I liked the notion that while adults were heroes, kids could fight crime too. On the '60s Batman, Robin was more than just a tag-along or a potential hostage. He was the smart one, and often helped the caped crusader solve difficult riddles, punctuating his realizations with an enthusiastic (and corny) punch to his own fist. Such an idiosyncrasy on the playground had my classmates throwing punches, but not at their own fists. Another thing I'd realize in hindsight was that it was silly for a teenager to figure things out for the world's greatest detective. Still, Batman needed someone, not just to be a flashy decoy for armed enemies, but someone to groom as a replacement to carry on the fight after he was gone. Considering that the first Robin grew up to be Nightwing, a dark and vigilant vigilante in his own right, I'd say the training paid off. It's good to see heroes learning, makes it easier for the rest of us to relate to such superhuman characters. Sky High appealed to me on this level, in combining the ordinary academic and social stress of high school with the added pressure of mastering powers and battling villains.

Of course, sidekicks aren't always children. Sometimes they're a native American helping a cowboy. A sidekick might be a kickass Asian chauffeur or even a mild-mannered accountant, smarter than the hero. Sidekicks are foils, and bring something to the table that contrasts or enhances the hero's traits, be it youth, race, or intellect. Sometimes a sidekick works with an entire group, such as Casey Jones and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Though Casey is slightly older, his crude street fighting techniques are definitely improved spending time with formally trained martial artists. Then there are the Wonder Twins, junior members of the Superfriends who while sidekicks in their own right, also have a monkey sidekick of their own. Say what you will of Zann and Jayna, but they were better than Marv, Wendy and Wonderdog.

Sidekicks are loyal to a fault, as was the case with Samwise Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings. I think I tend to be like Sam, sticking by my friends, although I offer more comic relief. When I was younger, I fancied myself the “hero” of my block, even the leader of my group. As my friends grew up, they realized they didn't have to listen to me just because I was 4-5 years older, and once they were taller than me they REALLY didn't listen to me. Being a sidekick wasn't so bad though. Gone were the burdens of leadership, of rounding everyone up and agreeing on a plan of action for playing. I didn't have to go from house to house anymore, or think of fun things to do. I'd get the call to come play, and off I'd go. Of course, as was the case with the original Robin, no one can be a sidekick forever. Sooner or later we have to grow up, take charge, and be, if not heroes, adults.