Apologies to everyone who wants a 2012 Turtles' piece from me. I wanted to do this first. I'm not sure I ever "will" do a 2012 turtles story, but I haven't completely ruled it out. However, I've loved the Splinter from the 1987 series since I began watching it. He's my favorite part of that show with its Leo a close second. I think April and Irma are a close third with their contrasting priorities and continued friendship. Donnie was good in the series too. Raph was very different, he is unique in that series to any other version of "Raph" I know of. 1987's Mikey's is a true version of Mikey. I mean what else can I say except he's as much a surfer dude as a party dude in that series?

There is no denying the 1987's series is different from any other TMNT series. I like to think of it as a "Rubber Band" world/universe. Life on earth can survive nearly anything. The sun can become too close to the earth or too small to properly heat it, and yet everything goes back to "normal" when our heroes fix these things.

Splinter, or "Hamato Yoshi's," own life seems to be the things most deeply, vastly, and permanently changed in that series, beyond the turtles' own lives after they're mutation. He lost his home and role in Japan permanently as far as I can tell, but you never hear him complain that I can recall either. His love of art doesn't get only mentioned once, twice, or even three times to explain why he named the turtles the way he did, but also as the turtles explain to Yoshi who he is when he loses all his memories, and again when he attempts to help them to appreciate art when they tour Europe.

He might not be "complex" as other Splinters in that he doesn't seem tortured by his past like the 2003 and 2012 Splinters do. I still think that he's a loveable character, though. I want to explore him here, his differences from other Splinters, what might have brought these differences about, and how they might have led to the differences in the 1987 turtles from the other versions of the Turtles.

Experience was the best teacher. That's what Hamato Yoshi would have said if he'd been asked. He'd learned that well himself.

He was the first-born son in the family and thus expectations for him were obvious and the name "Yoshi" given to him. However, he often thought his brothers got more immediate attention than he did especially outside the family. He didn't have a lot of jealousy or bitterness toward them for this. Being the oldest son of the head of a clan of ninjas carried enough weight in and of itself.

His younger brothers were taller than him and handsomer some said. They were not better fighters, however. They attacked him individually and jointly enough for him to know that.

His father looked the other way when Yoshi's siblings gave him these unorthodox tests. If a member of a ninja clan could not keep his place in it on his own, then he could not keep his place in it at all. He must settle for a lesser one or leave. Yoshi knew, however, his father wished him to keep his place. It would be a disgrace to have chosen an heir who could not. That was why his father taught him one on one more than his brothers. But he had to face them in a fight by himself.

Yoshi was so busy keeping himself ready to keep his place as heir to the leader of the Foot clan, he barely had time to study things other than martial arts. He managed to do so, though. His father wanted him drenched in ancient wisdom his mind as agile and ready for what life threw at him as his body. He would have to lead after all.

Staring at black marks on flat white pages, even if they were beautiful and formed words of wonderful wisdom, prepared him for his next passion: old renaissance art of Europe. The paintings had marvelous colors. The stone sculptures had such amazing form and texture. They caught his tired eyes, revealed more details with his continued attention, and took their spots in the deep places of his heart that he was careful not to reveal on the surface of his face and in the tones of his voice. However, there was never as much time for studying such things as he desired to give.

He had to learn to be patient and humble and willing to change his plans at a moment's notice. A ninja adapted after all. He had a path to follow and a destiny decided for him. He could not follow after his own heart.

Yoshi often went out of his family's home on his own. His father approved if his trip was to study elsewhere, or experience nature's tranquility or even harshness to further train himself. So, he often went out and did these things. He enjoyed the silence and the privacy these trips provided him with. He enjoyed being in nature. It's beauty was even deeper and greater and richer than renaissance art. It was good to be out from under expectations for a time as well.

At home, his younger brothers often seemed in a competition to be seen and impress. Perhaps they hoped with his small size, silent nature, and love of renaissance art, their father might be persuaded to place them in line to head the clan or give them important positions in it under him at least. Having that weight on his shoulders before he was born, even if he hadn't known that then, Yoshi had no desire to fight for anything more. He let his lack of height and stunning good looks make him as invisible as possible. Besides, wasn't that partly what being a ninja was about?

Then his father died, and Yoshi found his brothers far more serious about taking his place than he had realized. In the end, he hadn't the heart to fight them on it continually without their father there to stiffen his back with his own threatened disappointment. He made a compromise with them instead.

He would leave them in charge, somewhat, him still being in charge in name and them reporting to him by mail important doings and decisions, while he toured Europe as he had always wanted to. They agreed, though, many in their close family and clan were scandalized. He tried to make the most of his journey. He succeeded.

However, while he was away both his brothers mysteriously disappeared. This meant he had to return early and take over the clan in person. He tried to find his brothers but there was no trace of them. This was hard, but to tell the truth they had never been close. Jealousy did not make fertile soil for roots of brotherly bonds to form. He had always drawn away from his family's squabbles and expectations as much as he could. Now he regretted it. He had really barely known his brothers or father. Now they were all gone.

He continued to train the ninja under him and look into his brother's disappearances himself as much as possible. The ninja clan seemed to thrive beneath him. He was pleased, but also knew this meant he was all the more sure to never travel Europe again. A certain student named Oroku Saki kept volunteering to take over while he did, but something about him made him uneasy as did near misses with throwing stars coming from behind him, and arrows coming at him from above, and mysterious rays that cut through walls and trees he'd been standing in front of a moment before. Thank goodness, his reflexes were excellent!

He had a lot of knowledge to pour into his students. He helped them perfect ancient moves of course and taught them ones they had not known before, when he thought them ready for them. However, he also believed in letting them develop their own styles as well. He also believed in placing words of wisdom in their ears and letting them puzzle over them on their own time. He believed in letting them practice as much or little as they wished and letting the consequences during their next lessons and sparring session with him or another student motivate them to do better. For those for whom honor meant so much the strategy worked very well.

Oroku Saki did not take this teaching style well, however. He was very dismissive of words. He was eager to learn to fight and improve his martial arts skills, however. He didn't like to hide himself, though he could use deceit in other ways. But he was a student, his family an old family of the area. As long as he didn't quit, Yoshi did not think he could throw him out of the clan.

This kindness, however, was not shown to him in return. When he ended up first unable to bow to, and then holding a knife before, an old and respected master of the land visiting his dojo, Oroku Saki had been sitting right next to him. He knew it was him, but there was no proof he could show and no time allowed him to defend himself. Every relative, student, and acquaintance was appalled at the charge against him staining them too. Thus, they wanted him out of Japan, but touring Europe didn't seem possible now either.

He sold his private possessions, those not given to him by family, or even students, like his books on art. With the money he gained from this, he bought a ticket to America. He made himself a citizen, barely, but that was all he could do. New York might have been a common port of entry into the United States, but it wasn't a cheap place to live.

He took shelter in the sewers instead. When he could find food, the rats there were most eager to share it with him. He still felt the sting of shame on him, so badly he dared not face more people than he had too. He couldn't get a job as a martial arts teacher with his reputation now. Other masters had spread the word about his "misdeed" in Japan to dojos across the world even in New York City.

He couldn't get a job as an art expert in his rags either. Most interested in great art thought the experts on it should look like pieces of art themselves and smell of cologne or perfume not sewers. Indeed, the more and more time he spent in the sewers, the fewer and fewer jobs he could get. He wasn't trained for any other job except maybe philosopher, and there wasn't much pay in that.

Yet, when little turtles fell on his head, he had not been able to simply abandon them. He had gone up to the streets to find their owner, but it had taken time to find a route up he could fit through ironic considering his small size, but it wasn't as small as the tiny turtles'. No one on the street had seemed to be watching the grate they had fallen through looking for them. He'd asked people nearby if they had lost the four turtles. Their responses to him and the turtles had not been kind.

He decided to return "home" and share what little he had with the four pets instead. He wasn't expecting the pink goo that flooded into the little home he had set up in the sewers a short time later. The little turtles had escaped their bowl somehow beforehand and had been swimming in it!

He'd wiped them off with a rag and placed them some distance away from the shining liquid. Then he had fed his rat friends. He was shocked at what happened next. He grew fur, a long snout, and a tail! He became a very large rat! However, he still "felt" like Hamato Yoshi.

His pet turtles, however, became something else entirely inside as well as out. They became more human. Now, he spent less time feeding his rat friends, and they ceased congregating around him. Perhaps they couldn't recognize him anymore or considered him competition for food now. They could scrounge for themselves if they must.

He had to feed his now not so tiny turtles, who could not. They shouted and cried for him to do so and then laughed at his efforts at times like human children. He sometimes only found a smorgasbord of bits of different things to feed them from candy, to spaghetti, to pizza.

He often put all these leftovers into the same container to keep as many limbs free for self-defense and escape as possible as a ninja should. The turtles did not complain. Afterwards, he feared he had ruined their tastes when it came to food forever. They came to prefer the most revolting of concoctions even when they had a choice on the matter as they grew. He still ate sushi platters himself, when he could. American food, however, was more plentiful and became their favorite as far as he could tell.

He named them after his favorite Renaissance artists. No one was there with him but them to judge or complain about it. His family had disowned him. He dared not even pass on his family-name when he'd been so cast out. Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo did not seem to mind. Indeed, they shortened each other's names still further to Leo, Raph, Don or Donnie, and Mikey. He preferred the longer versions himself. They reminded him of the art he loved so much. He did not break the habit of simply calling them "my turtles" if he addressed them all together like he had immediately after taking them home when he could not find the person who'd dropped them on his head.

He also called them his "students" when he began to teach them ninjitsu. That was how he had always addressed his classes with multiple pupils. It seemed only appropriate.

Eventually, a few letters began pouring in from Japan written by those who'd quit the Foot clan. He learned thus of Uruko Saki's full betrayal of the fighting force he'd been left in charge of turning them into a criminal organization. More and more old members left and some asked him to return and lead them himself believing in his innocence now.

He sent them this question in return, "If I were to come to you in the form or a rat, would you still have me as your sensei?" Many treated this as a purely rhetorical question. Some thought it a reference to his height. However, the general impression he gained from their replies was that even those who distained Oruku Saki would not welcome an actual giant rat as their teacher.

Some of those who could, he thought, could not go against the old, greater master's decision who had thrown him out even if they believed now it had been unjust. Tradition was tradition. So, he stayed in America with his turtles.

However, he taught them to defend themselves against Oroku Saki, or other humans who'd harm them in shock and disgust at their appearance, or even just in the midst of performing some other crime against them. The city was full of crime. Doing so and otherwise filling their needs became full time work. They were four children after all. And they all had different needs.

Leonardo loved to work on his ninjitsu skills. Raphael loved to make jokes about others at their expense, and it sometimes got him in trouble with the other turtles and even him. Donatello loved electronics and building things and exploring scientific possibilities. Michelangelo loved food and fun with equal zeal.

He decided almost immediately not to raise them in the same way his father had raised him. After all, they were not going to inherit the leadership of a whole clan. They "were" going to have to take care of themselves and each other. He didn't want them jealous of each other as his brothers had been of him. He did make Leonardo leader, however, for he seemed the most responsible of them all.

Television he found useful. It kept his students out of mischief while he scavenged and kept himself in practice as a ninja master. However, it also distracted them from their own training.

When he attempted to make them more interested in their studies by breaking boards in front of them, which had almost always seemed to enthuse new students, they began to call him "Splinter." He found he was alright with that.

His students and turtles took his side, when he told them the story of why he'd had to leave Japan. Leonardo in particular was incensed at the injustice of it. He raised a clenched fist and his voice waving the former while yelling with the later "How dishonorable can a person be, Sensei! You should have fought against it until justice was done!"

Raphael made several snide jokes about Oroku Saki and, more concernedly, the old master who had ordered his sensie's ousting. Donnie was interested in trying to find a way to prove him innocent even after all these years and curing his mutation. The genius figured there had to be a way. Then he could go back to Japan and lead the Foot clan again.

This suggestion caused Michelangelo to cry aloud, grab onto, and shake Donatello. He'd told Donatello not to do it, because then Splinter would leave them all. He had been quick to assure them then, he would not leave his turtles and students until he was certain they could take care of themselves.

He continued to care for and teach them when they became teenagers, and Oroku Saki came to New York with Krang, and April O'Neil discovered them. They still had so much to learn. Still, experience was the best teacher. He was determined to train and impart wisdom to them including the importance of training by themselves and mulling over what the wise things he said to them after he left the room or they left the lair.

They did not fail him or the world, usually, when Oroku Saki, Krang, and other foes endangered them and it again and again. Despite their rather different, and if he were honest with himself, disgusting taste in food, or their childishness at times when it came to responsibility, they saved the world many times. This might have partly been because their enemies were so childish as well. Evil people often were. But his turtles learned, and they won again and again, and when they did lose, it was often to "him."

Well a teacher couldn't teach his students all he knew directly. Experience "was" the best teacher in the end, and they had plenty of time for that. They were only teenagers, and … it seemed like that never changed … which only gave them more time to have even more experiences.

In the end, Yoshi would not have changed the trajectory of his life if he could have except perhaps to have gotten to know his own family better when he had the chance. He loved watching his young turtles and students grow and learn. Their unusual lives were quite interesting filled with fighting, world-saving, and pizza!

What do you think?

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes