Why build an investment product focused on Pokémon cards? The short answer is that I wanted one and couldn't find it. The long answer is below.
I am a millennial who started watching the Pokémon anime when it first came out. I remember catching an episode every morning before my dad would take us to school. There was something magical about the world of Pokémon. The variety of the creatures, their unique abilities, their evolutions, and above all the relationships they had with their trainers. I teared up when Pikachu fought off the flock of Spearow in the first episode. But I straight up cried when Ash said goodbye to Butterfree. I got goosebumps every time Charizard used Seismic Toss, whether to defeat Blaine's Magmar or Gary's Blastoise.
I remember getting my hands on a Game Boy. Our parents bought my siblings and me the very first one, the gray brick that wasn't even in color. We played Pokémon Yellow, Red, and Blue, and then Silver and Gold. Over the years we got a Game Boy Color and a Game Boy Advance. Silver was my favorite (Cyndaquil, I choose you!). Just like any other kid who played it, unlocking Kanto after completing Johto was such a pleasant surprise. And I don't think I'm the only one who struggled with beating Whitney's Miltank; that was way harder than beating Red at the end of the game.
And I remember the cards. The rectangular art of a Pokémon above one or two moves, and all the math that went into figuring out how many moves it took to knock out an opponent. The special shiny cards, and the circle, diamond, and star symbols that marked rarity. Just like any other kid, I had cards. And just like most kids' cards, mine eventually disappeared.
That entire Pokémon chapter closed sometime in the early 2000s as I moved into high school and Pokémon was no longer what the cool kids did. Funnily enough, the lore never left me. Even now, twenty years later, I am writing all of the above from memory.
I never thought about Pokémon again until last year, when my four-year-old came home from school with a handful of cards. He tells me his friends are trading them. And I start paying attention. I start telling my kids about Pokémon. I find the original anime and load it up on the TV. We watch Pikachu fight off the Spearow. We watch Ash say goodbye to Butterfree, and this time it's not just me tearing up; my kids are too. I buy them binders. I get them packs of cards. We start ripping packs and filling binders. I spend time learning about all the eras I missed: the Gold Stars, the GX and V eras, and of course the Illustration Rares. My kids are now absolute fans. We go to card shops and buy cards. We all have collections now. Pokémon is still alive.
But here's the thing. In those twenty years, I was spending the bulk of my time on Wall Street, not at all aware of Pokémon. I am a structured credit guy. I started out structuring CLOs and evolved into structuring all sorts of credit derivatives. Packaging financial products is the skill I went to school for and the work I have done ever since: at an investment bank, then at a hedge fund, and now at the helm of a treasury function at a tech company. Financial structuring and analysis is my vocation. Pokémon is my newly resurrected passion and hobby. The two worlds collide in this proposed fund.
I, and many other millennial dads, am living proof of how durable this franchise is. I, and many other investment professionals, want exposure to this asset class, and there is no instrument for it short of collecting binders of cards yourself. And so I decided to launch Cards Capital: to explore raising a fund dedicated to investing in collectible-grade Pokémon cards, so that a piece of our childhood that is now a piece of our kids' childhood can become part of our investment portfolios today, and a part of our legacy to our children in the future.
If any of this resonates, get in touch, or start with the fact sheet.