44 Takeaways From My First National
1. The first few moments were more than overwhelming, as everyone said it would be. It was disorienting. I had a general-admission ticket. I walked in with the herd, went down the escalator to enter the show, and momentarily felt drunk, like I couldn’t find my balance. I couldn’t find anything or any point to latch onto, no anchor, no nothing, and I straight up felt like I might tip over. That feeling passed quickly.
2. Many—not all—dealers appeared to be working hard on customer service. That doesn’t mean all of their prices were fair, but they ranged between courteous and friendly.
3. Except for the old-school, grandfathered-in dealers. The old vintage crowd. Speaking generally—there were exceptions—I got the impression they wouldn’t get off their stools to spit or piss on me if I was on fire in front of their booth.
4. Some dealers had their cards priced fairly. Others did not. I don’t know what else to say about this other than it felt like any other commodity. Some grocery stores charge too much for eggs. Others charge a fair price. Look around if you’re not happy.
5. That said, where dealers felt like they tried to take advantage of buyers was when dealers were buying. I witnessed a dealer acknowledge that a customer’s comps were correct, then offer him 35 percent of that, then belittle the guy when he dared to counter the offer.
6. On my pre-National podcast episode, Jeremy Lee touted the importance of wearing comfortable shoes. Josh Johnson said the same thing on The Crossover. Holy cow were they right. The concrete convention floor was unforgiving. I wore Hoka Bondi 8’s, a good shoe, but after seven hours on the show floor, my feet were killing me.
7. I saw some folks in flip-flops and others in Jordans. I don’t know how they did it.
8. I think I was there for three hours before I remembered to drink water.
9. The bottle of water and snacks in my bag (granola bars, Uncrustables, a banana, jerky) were saviors. Probably healthier than the snack bar. Most certainly cheaper.
10. Meeting people I’d only previously talked to online was phenomenal. Is it possible to feel like someone you’d never met is an old friend? I probably would have said “no” before The National. Now I say yes.
11. The worst part was the drive home, thinking about others I’d hoped to meet but didn’t. I was in Rosemont for a total of 34 hours. Time can be an unforgiving bastard.
12. My favorite pickup was a 1934 Goudey Hank Greenberg SGC 1.5. Beautifully centered. Some discoloration on the back that led to the low grade.
13. That card had been on my list for some time, but it wasn’t my top focus heading into National. Vintage card No. 1 on my want list is a 1959 Topps Bob Gibson. I got my love of sports from my mom. Gibson was her favorite player. Couldn’t find a copy at National I was happy with.
14. Get this: Two days before the show I found a nice PSA 4.5 Gibson online being sold by a dealer who would be at National. I reached out. He shared his booth #, we agreed on a price, and he said he’d hold the Gibson for me. I showed up to the show Friday morning, as planned. He was one of the old-school, grandfathered dealers. He was helping someone else while I tried to wait patiently, which was hard because he had two other older gentlemen helping him at his booth, and they were very, very busy looking at their phones. Finally, I dared to interrupt one and asked about the Gibson. Without standing up he pointed to where I could find it, but it wasn’t the right one. It was a PSA 6 OC. Finally the lead dealer came over. He was slightly more engaging than his friends since he at least demonstrate a willingness to use his legs. I told him I was the guy who messaged about the 4.5. “I think that’s sold.” Then he stared at me. I replied that I thought we’d agreed on a price and that he’d told me he would hold it. “Yes, I think that’s sold.” So … OK. It’s good to know the same old-school dealers who took advantage of us as kids 30 years ago are still at it.
15. p.s. The Gibson PSA 4.5 remains online on his eBay store. On Sunday, I messaged him through eBay to ask if the card is still available. His reply: “Well its (sic) listed so yes.” Thanks.
16. Yes, I have unreconciled feelings toward dealers from my childhood. Don’t judge. I’m working on it.
17. I rolled into town Thursday night a little before 8:30 and went straight to the official trade night. IG said it was a madhouse and that the line was so long people were deciding to leave rather than wait to get in. I walked into the area just outside the ballroom, did a lap to see what people were doing, got in line, and within 60 seconds was let in.
18. So maybe the key to the official trade night is to show up halfway through? I’d rather walk right in and get 90 good minutes than wait in line for an hour to get 120. Or maybe I just got lucky.
19. To all those who recommended bringing deodorant and hand sanitizer with you to the convention, bravo. I made use.
20. Next year, I’m adding mouthwash to the list. My hotel was a few miles from the convention center, so I went straight from breakfast to the show to the Wolfpack trade night following a day of very little water, beef jerky, and a beer. Pretty sure my breath would have offended a buzzard. By the end of the night, I would take a step backward before talking to someone just to create some distance and/or half-cover my mouth while I spoke.
21. Seriously. I’m not kidding. Mouthwash joins the hygiene pocket of my bag next year in Cleveland. The National should hand it out to attendees like Costco samples.
22. Favorite moment involving a kid: a dealer asking an overly aggressive adult to be patient so that he could help a kid who had questions about a dollar box. Classy. I’m sure the adult brought the possibility of the more lucrative transaction, but the kid was there first and was treated with compassion and professionalism.
23. Second favorite moment involving a kid: I thought the trade-up challenge was just something I saw in YouTube videos, but nope. It’s a real thing! I saw it just once. The dealer shut the kid down faster than a restaurant with rats. “I’m not going to do that,” he said. And that was it. The kid slipped away.
24. Least-favorite moment involving a kid(‘s parent): Maybe I’m being insensitive or not seeing all the angles, but in such tight spaces, was National really the right place to push a stroller? Kids in the hobby are awesome, but perhaps toddlers and the hobby don’t mix. No one could get through the aisle when that stroller was there.
25. I saw someone attempt an $85,000 deal involving ultramodern football cards. That was pretty cool. More about that on Friday’s Shallow End podcast.
26. Bummer – I hoped to catch a glimpse of Dr. Beckett, the icon. No luck.
27. I attended Friday. That morning I met a friend for breakfast. We met up again at the show and looked at vintage. He’s an expert. I’m not. I learned a lot in a short amount of time. Seek the wisdom of your elders (unless they’re staffing the old-school tables).
28. It’s good to have a plan, but make room for impulse buys, too. Impulse buys are fun.
29. About a month before National I spent a good chunk of my admittedly limited funds on a rare PC card. In hindsight, that was absolutely the right choice. I worried I’d have less fun at National, but it didn’t matter. Overall, the cards at National were mostly homogenous: lots of ultramodern football and basketball, and cookie-cutter baseball autos. Unique or niche products were present, but they were few and far between.
30. I heard some recommend staying “at least” three days to make The National experience worth it. I’m not sure. I think three days would be my max. If I ever went Wednesday through Sunday, I’d need to take one—maybe two—days off to go do other things.
31. Wolfpack trade night didn’t feel like a trade night. It was a party. A celebration centered on cards but much bigger than cards. I’m grateful to everyone who helped set it up.
32. That, plus my acquisition of a nice Ohtani card without having to give up any cash, were the highlights of my National experience. I didn’t know I was capable of doing what I did to land the Ohtani, but I proved something to myself that afternoon. And in case you couldn’t tell, yes, that’s what we call a tease: more details on the Ohtani in Friday’s episode of The Shallow End.
33. Be polite to dealers. They looked hot and exhausted. Some of them appeared completely fried, and to reiterate, I was there Friday. They still had two days to go.
34. But if you want to be rude to the grandfathered-in crowd, go for it. Side-eye them all you want. Offer 12 percent of comps and watch their blood pressure rise.
35. Since getting home, I’ve avoided content that looks like it’s going to be grossly negative toward The National. I had the time of my life. There were sports cards, old friends, and new friends. Perfect. I don’t need to hear complaints about the heat. Or too many camera crews. Or whatever. I had the mother-effing time of my life.
36. And I’m already excited for Cleveland.
37. From an attendees’ perspective, I found the official corporate communication and literature … fine? The booth-layout map would have been especially helpful if the year was still 1997. Other than the lack of consistent wifi and access to data, it’s unclear why there can’t be digital options. Apps with downloadable content that can be searched if the wifi is bad. At the very least, a searchable database of dealers and the general content of their inventory. It’s baffling. There are opportunities to modernize.
38. If Fanatics decides to challenge The National, they’re going to be successful. From a convention-planning POV, the level of innovation at The National was next to zero.
39. From a people-watching perspective, it was fascinating to watch some attendees violate some of the major “don’ts” described in much of the pre-National content, such as setting their cases down on top of showcases without permission, asking dealers if they’re buying yet having no idea the value of their own cards, and wearing unsensible shoes.
40. Not that I was Mr. Perfect. I lost track of where I was at one point and asked a dealer who’d already said no to buying my cards if he wanted to buy my cards. “Still no,” he said politely but curtly, realizing I meant no harm.
41. The crowd was polite, courteous, and I’d even say nice to one another. Even when it got hot and crowded, folks appeared determined, for the most part, to behave with respect toward one another.
42. I have no idea how there isn’t more theft at trade nights. I mean, the cards are just sitting out! There’s so much chaotic activity. Logistically, I could probably handle setting up at a small show if I ever chose to, but there’s no way I could handle plopping myself down at a table or on the floor at a trade night. Eighty percent of my inventory would be stolen because there’d be too much going on and I’d get distracted.
43. If you suffer from enochlophobia, The National isn’t the place for you. And that’s OK. As much as I enjoyed myself at National, in my opinion one’s hobby experience can still be complete without it. But at least go to some sort of show, whether it’s hyperlocal or regional. eBay, MySlabs and other platforms are wonderful, but it’s a completely different experience from attending a show.
44. Kudos to the dealers who listed their prices. To those who didn’t, do it next year or please consider staying home.