I often feel the pull of Pokémon cards. There's an ugly side to this hobby now it's worth serious money, but behind all the scalping, store thefts, and price spikes, there's a genuine, passionate community. I see their stories of lucky pulls, card show trades, and lovingly collated binders. Pokémon collectors share more than just shiny scraps of paper. There's an explorative joy and a playground nostalgia passed between them.
Like many, my love affair with Pokémon began in the schoolyard. I watched the cartoons, and I played the earliest videogames. My card collection was a scrappy thing handed down by an older sister who'd quite literally battled for it (Pokémon was actually banned from my school because of all the fighting it caused).
There was a holo Vaporeon in that collection that caught my seven-year-old eye. It was shiny, and it looked a bit like a dog, so I decided it was my favorite Pokémon. That's the kind of faultless logical decision you make as a young child.
I haven't seen that card in decades, but it's become something of a symbol for me. It summons memories of corner stores stuffed with penny sweets, rental VHSes, and booster packs. Social media hadn't been invented yet. If I wanted to play Pokémon, I'd need to walk to a neighboring council estate and knock on my friends' doors.
When I consider returning to Pokémon cards, I'm chasing these childlike feelings of yesteryear. I daydream about going on a catch 'em all adventure to collect a binder of Vaporeons, each lovingly rendered with art and foil. That snazzy art is certainly pleasant, but the nostalgia is worth more to me than the cards themselves.
Unfortunately, late stage capitalism is a thing. It turns out you can put a price on happy memories. For me, they'd cost about $4,000.
Since my first treasured card released in 1999's Jungle set, there have been many Vaporeons. I counted 38, give or take a few holo variants. The value of these cards varies drastically. 151 Vaporeon and Vivid Voltage Vaporeon both cost less than a dollar - that sounds like a great place to start! Even replacing my childhood original only costs around $10, provided I'm not precious about the card's condition.
Around 63% of Vaporeon cards sell for $20 or less, so I could get by for quite some time on a shoestring budget. But, if I really want to catch 'em all, I'm going to have to invest some serious dollars. Unfortunately, my childhood favorite is a popular pick.
The obvious budget-breaker that comes to mind is Prismatic Evolution's Vaporeon ex. This Pokémon set was entirely dedicated to celebrating the Eeveelutions, whose popularity meant getting hold of stock was a nightmare for everyone involved. Vaporeon was never the prime target of chase collectors, and the hype has died down a bit, but this card would still set me back around $300.
Prismatic Evolution isn't the only painful price point. A holo Dark Vaporeon goes for around $340, while Skyridge's holo has a market price of $423. At the eye-wateringly ridiculous end of the spectrum, we have Vaporeon Star. Printed in 2007, an ungraded copy sells for $1,000 or more. In perfect condition? That sea puppy nets up to $38,000.
The thought of paying that kind of money is like a punch to the gut. I can't imagine how bad it feels to see your favorite pocket monster on the list of most expensive Pokémon cards.
And, yes, I don't have to save up a deposit for a Vaporeon. There are plenty of collectors out there who make the hobby work with a far more modest budget. But, if I were to start down this road, I'd never see its end. My collection would never be complete, because I'm simply priced out of collecting.
It's that sobering reality that makes me reluctant to start. Pokémon today is impossible to separate from finance. I want tabletop escapism that lets me forget the crushing weight of trying to survive under capitalism. With Pokémon, I can't help but be reminded.
I want a binder of Vaporeons, but for that same money, I could fix my car. Or make an early payment on my mortgage. Or take my hard-working partner on holiday. For the savvy, Pokémon can fund that lifestyle, but only if you're prepared to go full-time as a paper stockbroker.
Fundamentally, there's our problem. In the 2020s, Pokémon is less a game and more a stock market, and that's just not a fantasy I want to chase. Collecting will have to stay something I idealize in my head rather than something I seriously invest in.
Think you can change my mind about collecting? I'm open to counter opinions in the Wargamer Discord.