Pokémon Cards & Gambling: What I've Learned Since

A while ago, I wrote about Pokémon cards and gambling from the perspective of a recovering gambling addict. Since then, I've learned a lot more about myself and how I want to collect.

Before I get into it, I want to make one thing clear: this is just my personal journey. I'm not telling you how you should collect Pokémon cards, and I don't think there's a single "right" way to enjoy this hobby. Collect whatever makes you happy, whether that's ripping packs, collecting sealed product, building binders, chasing grails or buying singles.

For me, though, I've had to put some boundaries around the hobby because of my history with gambling. These are the rules and habits that have worked for me and helped me enjoy Pokémon in a healthier and more intentional way.

So please, collect responsibly and collect what makes you happy.

I'm still free from gambling

Let's start with the most important part.

I'm still free from gambling.

That hasn't changed.

Recovery doesn't mean temptation disappears. For me, it means recognising the behaviours and thought patterns that can lead me back there.

I've realised that Pokémon cards themselves aren't necessarily the problem.

It's the chase.

There's a big difference between buying a card because I genuinely want to own it and buying something because I'm hoping it will give me the feeling of getting a big win.

I've become much better at recognising that difference.

Buy your chase

These days, if there's a card I really want, I just buy the card.

It sounds obvious, but it's something I've had to learn.

If my chase costs $500, I'd much rather save $500 and buy that exact card than spend $500 opening packs hoping I eventually pull it.

I've also become much stricter about what actually makes it into my collection. For modern cards, I've basically adopted a PSA 10 or bust mentality. That means I'm not just looking for the card — I'm looking for the right copy of the card.

With a PSA 10, I know exactly what I'm getting. I know the condition, I know the price and, most importantly, I know I actually want it.

Compare that to opening packs. I could spend hundreds of dollars chasing the card, finally pull it, and then be left wondering whether it's good enough to grade, whether it'll get a 10, or whether I'll end up selling it anyway.

I'd rather skip all of that.

Save the money. Buy the card I actually want. Put it straight into the collection.

There's no uncertainty and no need to keep spending because I haven't hit it yet.

It's not a lucky win.

It's a deliberate purchase.

What happens if I actually pull the chase?

This is another thing that has made ripping packs much less appealing to me.

Let's say I ignore everything I've just said. I buy the packs, get incredibly lucky and actually pull the chase.

Now what?

Because I've adopted the PSA 10 or bust mentality, I'm immediately looking at the centering, whitening, print lines and overall condition.

Should I grade it?

And then comes the question:

What if it comes back a PSA 8 or 9?

Do I keep it? Do I sell it? Do I try again?

And if I don't intend to keep it unless it gets the grade I want, am I eventually just going to sell it to recover some of the money I spent opening the packs and grading cost?

That's when it really clicked for me.

Even pulling the chase isn't necessarily the outcome I want.

I don't want a random raw copy of the card.

I want the card I love, in the condition I want, in my collection.

I can just buy that directly.

That mindset alone has stopped me from ripping a lot of packs.

I buy cards I actually like

I've also become much better at ignoring the noise around the Pokémon market.

A card starts going up. Someone calls it undervalued. An influencer talks about it. Everyone starts buying it.

Suddenly I'm looking at a card I've never really cared about and thinking, "Maybe I should buy one."

Now I ask myself a much simpler question:

Do I actually like this card?

If the answer is no, I don't care how expensive it becomes.

I want cards I genuinely connect with — Pokémon I love, artwork I enjoy, characters I have nostalgia for, or cards that simply make me happy when I look at them.

I'd rather have ten cards I absolutely love than a hundred cards the market told me I should own.

The price going up is nice, but it isn't why I bought it.

Packs are entertainment

I've become much more comfortable admitting that opening packs is gambling-like behaviour for me.

That doesn't mean everyone who opens Pokémon packs has a gambling problem. Most people don't.

But I have a history with gambling. I know what it feels like to chase an unknown outcome and think "maybe the next one will be the big one."

So if I open packs, I treat them as entertainment.

If I'm with friends or family and we decide to open some packs together, that's completely fine. It's fun. We're spending time together, having a laugh and seeing what we pull.

I still think opening packs can be an experience rather than a financial transaction.

If I'm hanging out with friends and decide beforehand that I'm spending $50 to rip some packs with them, then whatever comes out of those packs doesn't really matter. I paid for the experience.

The important part for me is deciding the amount beforehand.

Because I know what happens when I let the result make the next decision.

Spend $50. Pull nothing I care about.

Fuck it, I'll grab another few packs.

Still nothing.

One more.

That's the part I have to watch.

The problem isn't that the first $50 didn't return $50 worth of cards. The problem is when disappointment becomes the justification for spending another $50.

That's when I'm no longer paying for an experience.

I'm chasing an outcome.

And I know myself well enough now to recognise the difference.

A recent wake-up call

Recently, a friend and I opened a bunch of Pokémon packs together. We were having a few drinks, opening packs, laughing at the terrible pulls and getting excited whenever something looked promising. It was genuinely a fun night.

By the end, though, we hadn't pulled anything we really wanted. Just a huge pile of bulk. I looked at it afterwards and realised I didn't even want most of it. I genuinely had the thought, "I could just throw all of this in the bin."

That thought really stopped me.

Why had I just spent money opening all these packs if I didn't even want the cards sitting in front of me?

The funny thing is, the cards weren't what made the night fun. We were drinking, hanging out, laughing at the bad pulls and enjoying the experience. The packs were just something we were doing together.

And that's when the distinction I'd been trying to make became really obvious.

The experience was fun. The outcome didn't matter.

The pile of cards sitting in front of me wasn't something I wanted to collect. What I'd enjoyed was opening the packs, wondering what was inside and sharing that moment with a friend.

But that also showed me exactly where the danger is for me.

If I can look at everything we pulled and think "I don't even want this shit," then opening more packs isn't going to fix that. That's just chasing the possibility that the next one might finally contain something I do want.

And I already know where that kind of thinking can take me.

So I don't need to pretend I don't enjoy opening packs. I do. Probably a little too much.

I just need to remember what I'm actually paying for when I choose to do it.

The experience.

Not the promise of eventually getting the card I want.

If I want the card, I'll buy the fucking card.

It was a small moment, but honestly, it was a pretty big wake-up call.

Quality over quantity

I've also stopped caring about having a huge collection.

I'd rather have five really nice slabs that I absolutely love than ten or fifteen that I only kind of like and bought for the sake of having more.

That mindset has also changed the way I buy sealed product. I'm much less interested in chasing every random product Pokémon releases. For main sets, I stick to booster boxes. For special sets, I'll generally stick to ETBs, bundles and the bigger premium products like SPCs and UPCs.

I don't need every collection box, tin, blister or random special product just because it exists.

The same goes for singles. I don't want filler, and I don't want to buy something simply because it's cheap. I'd rather wait for the right card than buy something today and tell myself I'll upgrade it later.

There will always be another set, another chase card and another "must-have." I don't need everything.

I'd rather have a smaller collection where almost everything means something to me than a massive one full of things I bought simply because they were available, cheap or popular.

The goal isn't to accumulate. It's to curate.

The funny thing is, I ended up liking my collection more

When I stopped ripping as much and started buying specific cards instead, something unexpected happened.

I started buying less.

Not because the cards I wanted were necessarily cheaper. Quite the opposite. Some of them cost significantly more than I ever would have spent on a random box or a few packs.

But every purchase became a decision.

Instead of seeing something for $30 or $50 and thinking, fuck it, that's cheap, I started asking whether I actually wanted that specific card in my collection.

And if I did, I wanted the finished version.

For me, that usually means PSA 10.

Is that financially efficient? Not always. Sometimes the difference between a PSA 9 and PSA 10 is tiny to look at and enormous in price. I'm fully aware that I'm paying a premium for the number on the label.

I just don't want the 9.

That's not me saying PSA 9s are bad, or that everyone should collect 10s. It's just a rule I've made for my own collection. I'd rather save for the version I actually want, or not own the card at all, than buy a cheaper version knowing I'll eventually want to replace it.

The same rule also stops cheap cards sneaking into the collection just because they're cheap.

If I see a PSA 7 for $30 and think, that's pretty cool for thirty bucks, there's an easy test:

Would I still want this card if I had to pay for the PSA 10?

Sometimes the answer is yes.

Great. I've found a card I genuinely want.

Sometimes the answer is, fuck no, not for $350.

Also great.

It turns out I didn't really want the card. I wanted the bargain.

That's probably been one of the biggest changes in how I collect. I'm no longer trying to make the collection bigger. I'm trying to make every purchase intentional.

Some of the cards I've bought have gone up in value. Some have gone down. I still track the values because I'm spending real money and I like knowing what I own, but appreciation isn't what makes the system work.

If the entire market dropped tomorrow, the rule would still be the same.

Do I actually like this card?

If I do, buy the version I actually want at a price I'm comfortable with.

If I don't, leave it there.

The goal isn't to accumulate.

It's to curate.

FOMO doesn't mean I have to buy

I still get FOMO. A new set gets announced, or a card starts climbing in price, and I wonder if I should buy it. But I've learned that wanting something doesn't mean I need to own it immediately.

I can wait, let the hype die down and decide whether I actually want the card. There will always be another Pokémon card.

Where I'm at now

As I've mentioned throughout this post, this is why I collect the way I do.

The rules I've put around Pokémon aren't about telling other people how they should collect. They're rules I've made for myself because I know my own history, and I know what can happen when I let the chase take over.

Are they perfect rules? Probably not.

PSA 10s can be stupidly expensive. Buying singles isn't as exciting as ripping packs. There are cheaper ways to collect, and there are plenty of people who would look at the way I do it and think it's completely unnecessary.

That's fine.

They're my rules.

For me, buying the cards I actually want, sticking to PSA 10s, avoiding the chase and treating packs as entertainment gives me a way to enjoy Pokémon without constantly chasing the next hit.

The rules also force me to make the decision before the dopamine gets a vote.

Do I actually want this card?

Am I buying it because I love it, or because it's cheap?

Do I want this version, or am I already telling myself I'll upgrade it later?

If I open packs with friends, how much am I spending before I start?

None of that means I've stopped enjoying Pokémon. If anything, I enjoy my collection more now.

I still get excited when a new card comes out. I still love finding something I've been looking for. I still get that little dopamine hit when a package arrives.

The difference is that I don't need to chase those feelings anymore.

I'm not trying to catch them all.

If you found this article because you're worried about your own relationship with Pokémon cards, I hope you know you're not alone.

I'm not a professional, and I can only speak from my own experience. But if something about the way you're collecting, spending or chasing cards doesn't feel healthy anymore, that's worth paying attention to.

For me, the answer wasn't giving up Pokémon entirely. It was recognising which behaviours were causing problems and putting boundaries in place that let me keep enjoying the hobby without putting my recovery at risk.