Published January 19, 2026 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

There is something incredibly pure about watching sports simply as a fan again. Not as an investor. Not as a speculator. Not as someone with money on the line. Just as someone who loves the game for what it gives us.

Over the last few days, I had the opportunity to enjoy the NFL Divisional Round playoff games and the College Football National Championship with my dad. No phones. No distractions. No bets. Just the two of us (and four dogs) on the couch, taking in the game. And what stood out most was how free it felt.

For so long, the consumption of sports stopped being about passion and started being about risk. Every game became a ledger. Every big moment came with tension. Instead of celebrating an impressive touchdown, we would calculate the live odds. Instead of enjoying a gritty comeback, we braced for what a loss would mean financially. That’s not fandom. That’s fixation. When you have skin in the game, It strips the purity from the experience.
But the past few days reminded me what the experience should be. It’s supposed to be meaningful. It’s supposed to bring us together. It’s supposed to make you feel present.

It’s amazing how enjoying a big moment without worrying about money can bring you back to your roots as a fan. To a time when the only thing that mattered was the game. And there’s no reason that can’t still exist today.

Watching those games with my dad brought back that feeling I had as a kid – the same one I had sitting on the living room floor, the game on in the background, ripping packs and chasing the players I loved, the idea of “profit” not even a thought. I don’t think I even knew what the word “profit” meant at that point in my life. It reminded me what it’s supposed to be about. The strategy. The heart. The drama. The beauty of competition at the highest level.

And that’s exactly what collecting is meant to be, too. The purity of collecting isn’t found in what something is worth – it’s found in what it means to you. The player you believe in. The team you ride with. The memory the card holds. That’s the real value.

When we remove the pressure, the gambling mechanics, the social buzz, the unrelenting need to win – fandom returns to what it was always meant to be: something that brings us joy, connection, and meaning.

That’s the version of the hobby we’re fighting for. That’s the version of fandom we deserve. And that’s the version of ourselves we get back when we slow down the pace, choose intention, and remember why we fell in love with sports in the first place.

#CollectorsMD
When we take the pressure off the outcome, we get to enjoy the magic of the game – and the hobby.

—
Follow us on Instagram: @collectorsmd
Subscribe to our Newsletter & Support Group
Join The Conversation On Mantel
Read More Daily Reflections

We’re re-uploading every episode of our podcasts—one per day—to make sure our new members and followers can catch up from the beginning.

If you’re new to Collectors MD, these conversations are where it all started—honest, unfiltered discussions about the realities of collecting, recovery, and rebuilding a healthier hobby.

We’ll be sharing episodes from The Collector’s Compass & Behind The Breaks covering everything from gambling parallels in collecting, to mental health, to how we find purpose beyond the chase.

Whether you’ve been here since day one or just joined the movement, this is your chance to revisit the stories that shaped our mission.

Subscribe on YouTube, follow along daily, like, comment, and help us spread the message: the hobby gets healthier when we do.

Collect With Intention. Not Compulsion.

The Collector’s Compass #8: Collecting For Passion Over Profit, Finding Meaning Beyond The Market

#CollectorsMD | #RipResponsibly | #CollectResponsibly

Published October 17, 2025 | By Ambre L, Collectors MD Community Member

As the initial excitement of collecting began to wane, I learned that not everything that sparkles is truly valuable. Many times, the cards and collectibles that seemed destined to change my life turned out to be far less extraordinary than they appeared. Through this realization, it became apparent that collecting—while rewarding and fulfilling—also carries the risk of financial pitfalls if not approached with care.

Witnessing loved ones experience disappointment, chasing promises of treasures only to discover they were worth much less than expected, deeply influenced my mindset. This eye-opening experience led to a transformation in both my collecting habits and my outlook. I made a conscious decision to step back from constantly searching for and desiring the next rare find.

Moments like these remind me that collecting doesn’t have to revolve around what’s mine—it can also be about what we share.

My collection has undergone a significant transformation over time. Initially, I was drawn to expensive comic busts, investing heavily in these prized pieces. That interest eventually shifted toward risqué anime figures, further fueling my enthusiasm for collecting. However, after losing thousands of dollars on various collectibles and comics, I realized the need to change direction.

As a result, I began focusing on sports “bad guys”—athletes with controversial reputations who fascinated me since childhood. What began as a simple passion soon turned into an obsession. Over time, though, that fixation mellowed into a curiosity I now enjoy sharing with others. Rather than collecting for personal gain, I take pleasure in searching for intriguing additions and sharing the stories behind these unique figures with fellow enthusiasts.

In embracing the so-called “bad boys” of sports, I began to see how even the most flawed figures can tell powerful stories about consequence, redemption, and human complexity.

The way my collection is perceived—the glances and the whispers—gives me a sense of pride, as it is truly my own creation. While some people collect things that might seem unusual to others, my interests have led me down a unique path. I’ve amassed memorabilia centered around forgotten crimes and athletes unlikely to ever be honored in the Hall of Fame. Despite their obscurity, these figures have earned a permanent place on what I call my Murder Shelf.

Alongside these, I also treasure one-of-a-kind cards personally crafted for me or autographed with my name. These occupy a place of distinction on my Personal Shelf, sitting right next to the Murder Shelf. Each shelf represents a different facet of my collecting journey—and together, they form a display that is both deeply personal and completely unique.

#CollectorsMD
True value isn’t always in what we own—it’s in what we understand.

—
Follow us on Instagram: @collectorsmd
Subscribe to our Newsletter & Support Group
Join The Conversation On Mantel
Read More Daily Reflections

Published September 30, 2025 | By Alyx E, Founder of Collectors MD

The hobby has always been about joy, nostalgia, and personal meaning—not treating every card like a stock to be speculated on. Yet time and time again, mainstream platforms and companies frame stories only through the narrow lens of profit and loss. What was once about childhood wonder is now repackaged as a cautionary tale of dollars “lost”.

Yesterday, Fanatics published a post across social media from their @fanaticscollect channel describing a childhood decision as a “$3,000 mistake”. The card in question—a 1st Edition “Blaine’s Arcanine” from one of the original Pokémon sets—had been pressed into the grip tape of a skateboard when its owner was a teenager. Years later, it resurfaced, labeled in hindsight as a financial blunder. The headline focused not on creativity or nostalgia, but on what could have been if the card wasn’t all but destroyed—a valuation number on a grading scale, forever tied to money left on the table.

Calling this story a “$3,000 mistake” is pure rage bait—chasing engagement instead of honoring the real spirit of a childhood story. The hobby should be about joy and nostalgia, not reducing every card to a profit calculation.

Calling this story a “$3,000 mistake” misses the point entirely. It wasn’t a mistake—it was a memory. It was passion. It was creativity. That card didn’t just sit in a shoebox or a slabbed case gathering dust; it lived. It went out into the world, joined a kid on adventures, and became part of his identity. It represented freedom, imagination, and the magic of Pokémon—exactly what made this hobby special in the first place.

By reducing it to a lost profit calculation, we don’t just insult that story—we reinforce the toxic message that collecting is only valid if it pays. This is the same mindset that has turned the hobby into a speculative marketplace, where cards are constantly flipped, hyped, and exploited. It’s the mindset that fuels gambling-style breaks and addictive spending habits. And it’s the mindset we’re working to challenge every single day at Collectors MD.

What many people in the comments got right is that this is what collecting should be: freedom, expression, joy. One collector said, “The card went with him on adventures. True to the Pokémon story.” Another wrote, “Bro thought it’d be dope to put a card on his board. That’s priceless.” These aren’t financial takes—they’re reminders that the value of collecting is found in the stories, not the spreadsheets.

At Collectors MD, we believe moments like these are guideposts. The value of collecting isn’t measured in resale prices or market charts—it’s measured in the memories we make and the meaning we attach. Cards are supposed to remind us of who we are, where we’ve been, and what we love. And when we lose sight of that—when every card becomes an “asset” or a “missed opportunity”—we lose the very soul of the hobby.

Profit Fades. Passion Remains.

#CollectorsMD
A card skated into childhood isn’t a $3,000 mistake—it’s a $3,000 memory.

—
Follow us on Instagram: @collectorsmd
Subscribe to our Newsletter & Support Group
Join The Conversation On Mantel
Read More Daily Reflections

I had the pleasure of joining The Geoff Wilson Show to share my vision for a healthier hobby. Collecting can be fun, social, and community-driven—but too often it leans on gambling-like mechanics. Imagine if odds were transparent, limits and safeguards were built in, and the focus shifted back to connection, nostalgia, and the why behind what we collect.

At its best, collecting should feel like a celebration, not a trap—it should feel like passion, not compulsion.

#CollectorsMD | #RipResponsibly | #CollectResponsibly

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DOv0dLCkZVj/?igsh=MXZ5OTJ0Zm9lM2dhcg%3D%3D