What is a card worth?
Every card has value. Any player with Wi-Fi access can scroll through the various Internet retailers for a card's value. Don't feel bad. We all do it. The urge to put a price tag on a collection is irresistible. Following the Jones Industrial Magic Index (JIMI) ensures the progress of a growing card portfolio and keeps the card sharks from embezzling from a player during a trade. Besides, knowing the current market value of any Magic card can make opening twenty-dollar bills during draft exhilarating. Pulling a bonus foil just adds to our excitement or collection, or gives that pet deck a little more bling-bling.
A Magic card is only worth something until a person sells/trades it or when a card maintains a certain kind of sentiment. All kinds of reasons exist for a person to have an emotional connection to a card. I'll never rid myself of my Charging Trolls, Serra Angels, Urza's Rages, Utopian Trees, or Baneslayer Angels. Charging Troll was my first pet card, and Serra Angel was the first card I spent cold, hard cash on. Besides the awesome art on Urza's Rage or Utopian Tree, those two cards were in the first tournament pack my wife bought for me. I was in the hospital recovering from appendicitis, and she brought in a tournament pack as a get-well present. Baneslayer Angel is more symbolic for me. I was having a bad day at work, and it was the week after my dad passed away. I said the heck with it, embraced my maniac side, and headed down to the local game store to splurge on some packs. My first pack I opened had a Baneslayer Angel. The card resonated with me and I enjoyed the thought of having a card with protection from demons.
The reason for this philosophical jaunt is because I am heading to my first PTQ shortly. I've been to a Grand Prix or two and $5K here and there, but never a PTQ. I stare at my collection and contemplate. Like most people, I assume, playing at a tournament is more about what I have at my disposal and what I can afford. I shouldn't say "what I can afford." To be honest, I can probably spend more than I do currently. I should say that I have a budget. Anything beyond my budget, and I start feeling like an addict. After meditating on the matter, I figure out what my two cheapest options are for the PTQ. I chose Jund because it fits my play style. Acquiring the last few pieces I needed still went above my budget. What was I to do?
Attempting the Impossible
Truth be told, Magic players are hoarders. We collect, collect, and collect some more. As I write this, I can't help but think of the squirrel from the Ice Age movie. As an example, I can't even physically lift my whole collection. All of it sits in identical boxes stacked four feet high except for five decks. Originally, the vast majority of my collection was in decks. Yup, all of those cards were thrust into decks. At one point, I had approximately sixty-plus decks. I won't rationalize the reason for such an endeavor. The important part is the reason for the deconstruction. It is impossible to play all those decks.
Even if I took a new deck every week to a FNM, I still wouldn't get to play them all. At the rate of two new decks per week, it almost feels ludicrous. This doesn't even take into account the numerous new decks that can be made with each new set. Such a lapse in sanity has been beneficial. I never carry more than three decks with me. The three in my possession are one Commander deck and two Standard decks in case a noob needs a deck to borrow. I'd rather see kids playing than ogling over my shoulder.
This has brought me to the conclusion that I have too many cards. I guess that is an understatement. The thought nonetheless made me question the need to hold on to singletons. A pair of Dark Depths has been sitting in my binder collecting dust. It was good luck that the Extended changes came about before I made the mistake of buying two more. Besides that one moment, I haven't made use of them. A future scene forms in my mind. Ten years from now, I will be scanning through my binder and will happen upon a pair of Dark Depths. My future self will reminisce how a former younger self had always meant to build a deck around those two cards. It just never happened. It is a fate I am sure more than one card has shared over the years.
Inventory Management
As the economy has taken a downturn, many businesses have looked for alternative ways of saving money. A popular tactic to financial stability for those institutions is trimming the fat from inventories. Every item on a store's shelf equates to less money in the bank. The problem arises because most businesses borrow money. Banks make money by charging interest on those dollars. Next time you are at the grocery store, contemplate the amount of capital borrowed to put all those products on those shelves. Profit is being lost to interest. Therefore, the pressure is to eliminate the amount of product on the shelf. The effect is ordering product more often. It may seem more costly. It can be. There definitely has to be a balance between bank interest rates and shipping and ordering costs.
A collection can be thought about in the same way. Cards equate to product on the shelf. It means cash not in my hand—cash that could be spent on cards I will actually play with or to acquire cards for any of my half-built decks. The concept has me digging through my collection pulling out cards low on the soon-to-be-played-with scale. I had a pair of Gaea's Cradles doing nothing. They got sold. Sure, the hoarder in me yearns to let greed overtake me. They were . . . precious to me. I would sit in my man cave and stroke them lovingly, distorting my mind and growing suspicious of the hobbits coming to take them away from me.
Let's step out of the self-centered box for a moment. I want what is best for Magic. Every card I hoard to myself means another player is going without. I have a set of AEther Vials doing nothing. For every Magic player unwilling to relinquish parts of their collection, supply and demand dictate higher prices. It is my belief that Magic players distort the secondary market by hoarding. I am no different. I had one Jace, the Mind Sculptor. Just one. I am not going to cough up for the other three. The advantages to keeping the card were not sufficient. The Blue Planeswalker was fun in my Commander deck, but I might as well put a target on my back. Jace, the Mind Sculptor got sold.
Investing
This article may appear to be on the side of pushing players to sell their cards. That isn't my intention. My point is to take cards collecting dust and put them to work. Every card in my collection is one fewer card from completing a competitive deck. With a few more Bitterblossoms along with a foil, I walked away with cards for a Tier 1 Jund deck. I will be playing with those cards, and that is what I think is important. I have cards I am actually going to use to compete. I am reminded of a saying: Put your money to work.
All this talk so far has been based on consumerism. Beyond the financial aspects, I will gain more than just a competitive deck: I will get the opportunity to compete at a PTQ. I get to play Magic all day. I get to take a road trip to one of my favorite cities. I get an experience. Even though I only went 5–4 at the Legacy Grand Prix in Chicago, I had a lot of fun and remember the day fondly. I suppose I could have hoarded my cards, never made a competitive deck, and stayed home. Unless a player is new to the game, I don't take much stock in players saying they are unable to afford competitive Magic. True, it can be expensive. However, I hear players unwilling to part with their cards. I guess for them, it just isn't worth it.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to playtest.