A Children’s Trading Card Game Ruined By Adults
It would be hard to describe my childhood without mentioning Pokémon. Whether it be the video game franchise, the anime, or the trading card game, I was obsessed. I invested what was likely thousands of hours running around in Pokémon Platinum, owned an exorbitant amount of cards, and constantly daydreamed about being Ash Ketchum to avoid paying attention in school.
This interest faded for a long time, but everything changed when my girlfriend and I tried playing Let’s Go Pikachu together on the Switch. What started as a fun novelty adventure and an appreciation for nostalgia quickly turned into a multi-media expedition that’s allowed my partner and I to bond in exciting, unexpected ways. We quickly began going on walks to play Pokémon Go together, then I began replaying old games and playing some of the new ones. I bought her Pokémon Scarlet and she loved it; neither of us really understand the hate for those games, but that’s another story. Though I resisted it at first, she also got me into the card game through TCG Pocket, which inspired us to buy physical packs.
One pack per month was the original rule. We broke it.
So, with all of that in mind, I’m approaching this from a standpoint of love and gratitude, but I’ve still been shocked by what the Pokémon world has become.
Team Rocket have long been the most iconic villains of the Pokémon franchise, a seemingly simplistic organization of villains who look to steal Pokémon and use them to accumulate power and wealth. There’s some sinister allegory to it, but their primary representation is Jessie, James, and Meowth, a trio too goofy to ever be a genuine threat. Regardless, there’s some compelling irony in what they are and how it relates to the Pokémon TCG community… people who don’t care about Pokémon and use them as a means for profit. Doesn’t that sound familiar?
If you’re not caught up on your Pokémon news, there’s currently a worldwide drought of English-language Pokémon Trading Card product, as all stock added in-store or online at major retailers like Target, Walmart, GameStop, and the Pokémon Company itself, is bought out instantly. People line up outside stores before they open and get into fistfights for the limited available product as if it’s gasoline in Mad Max. Look up some videos of it. There are grown, average Joe men fighting over Pokémon cards at CostCo. It’s outrageous. Online isn’t much better, as most stock is bought-out immediately by automated bots run in mass quantities by scalpers, people who buy the product to resell at a significantly higher price. From what I’ve seen, it’s on average, an 80-100% increase in price to buy most items.
I wish I could say the scalpers are the only problem, but I believe they’re a byproduct of an industry damaged by social media’s gambling addiction. Most online content related to Pokémon TCG is about opening packs and scoring “hits.” Creators rip through cards, tossing 99% of what they find to the floor in hopes of pulling something valuable, which they then nervously place into a sleeve like a game of operation, praying to avoid any scrapes, smudges, fingerprints, or other such imperfections that might detract from the grading value. Part of what I love about opening packs with my girlfriend is that seeing a Pokémon she likes makes her happy, without fail, every time. To her, the standard Japanese Chikorita card that’s worth 3¢ is just as exciting as the shiny-bordered card coming up behind it.
Listen, I see no problem with being a fan and buying/selling cards being part of the interest. It’s a “trading card” game after all. When I get a card that looks valuable, I check how much it’s worth. I’m guilty of it; it’s hard not to be. That said, the moment I stop being excited about unpacking a cheap card of a Pokémon I like, I might as well stop buying them and start playing online poker instead.
I recently discovered that Magic: The Gathering and Yu-Gi-Oh! offer specialty collector’s packs with all the full-art, fancy pants-looking cards that are worth more, which is such a discouraging thought to me. The disparity between collecting and playing has heightened so much that companies acknowledge it with segmented packs. Also… $39 for a Magic specialty collector’s pack? What the fuck is that?
As with many things, the problem is in excess. If the content surrounding a product is almost entirely focused on monetary value, then the audience perception will be, too. I acknowledge the importance of needing to sell and trade cards as a way of funding an expensive hobby, but there’s a certain, easy-to-miss line that gets crossed before it ceases to be a hobby altogether. If, however, your job is to buy Pokémon products and resell them at a higher price, you not only aren’t a fan, but you’re also contributing zero value to the world.
There’s part of me that knows this is just a fad. So many people are interested in Pokémon right now because of the mass desire and the excitement of getting something that’s unavailable. When the hype dies down, I’d like to think I’ll still be engaged, and I believe I’ll feel better about the overall atmosphere of the hobby.
