Chasing a Connor Bedard Rookie Made Me Rethink Buying Hobby Boxes

In 2023 and 2024, I got hooked on buying sports card hobby boxes. I was spending more than I was comfortable with, and the cards I pulled rarely seemed to justify what I had paid. Yet knowing that did not immediately change the appeal of opening another box.

The turning point came in 2024, when I was chasing a Connor Bedard rookie card. As hobby box prices climbed, I looked into the value of the specific card I wanted. That comparison made me question the way I was approaching collecting: I could buy the card directly instead of continuing to open boxes hoping to find it.

How the chase became expensive

The product I was buying was 2023-24 Upper Deck Series 2, and the card I was chasing was the Connor Bedard Young Guns #451.

Those details matter because “a Bedard rookie” is not specific enough to explain the decision. The comparison that changed my thinking involved a particular card and the boxes I was buying to try to pull it. Looking at the actual card gave me something concrete to compare with the money going toward boxes.

Before that realization, I was caught up in buying and opening. A hobby box offered the possibility of getting what I wanted, along with the uncertainty of what else might be inside. That possibility kept its appeal even as the spending became difficult to justify.

I do not need to attach a dramatic label to that period to recognize that the rate I was going was a problem for me. I was spending too much, and the results were repeatedly disappointing when I considered the cost.

What I meant by disappointing returns

My rough impression was that the cards or “hits” I received were often worth only about 5% to 10% of the hobby box price.

That figure is my personal estimate. It is not a calculation based on an audited record of every purchase, and it should not be read as a typical return for everyone buying those boxes. It describes how little value I felt I was getting compared with what I spent.

There is also a difference between estimating what a card is worth and actually selling it for that amount. My experience was about comparing the purchase price with my assessment of what I pulled, rather than documenting completed sales for every card.

Even with those limitations, the mismatch was hard to ignore. I was paying for boxes and repeatedly looking at the results with the same concern: the cards in front of me seemed worth a small fraction of the money that had gone into getting them.

Opening the box had its own appeal. But that appeal did not erase the expense.

The price comparison that changed my perspective

In 2024, the rising box prices made the decision harder to overlook. I was still chasing the Bedard rookie, but the cost of continuing that chase deserved a closer look.

That was when I researched the value of the card itself.

It sounds like an obvious step. If you want a particular card, check what it costs to buy it. Yet I had been focused on trying to open it in a box. Looking at the direct purchase option changed the question I was asking.

Instead of wondering whether the next box might contain it, I could compare the cost of that box with the cost of acquiring the card I actually wanted.

Buying another box would leave the outcome uncertain. Buying the specific card would let me know what I was paying for before spending the money.

The realization was not that opening packs had no entertainment value. It was that I needed to recognize how much I was willing to pay for that experience separately from how much I wanted the card.

Wanting the card and wanting to pull it

Looking back, the distinction between owning a card and pulling it from a pack is central to my experience.

Both can be appealing. Opening a card yourself gives it a story tied to that moment. Buying it directly gives you the card you selected at a price you can evaluate beforehand.

For me, the problem was allowing the chance of pulling the card to keep driving purchases while the spending increased and the results disappointed me.

Checking its value forced me to separate those two goals. If owning the Bedard rookie was the objective, I needed to consider the direct route seriously. If opening boxes was the objective, I needed to acknowledge that the money was paying for an uncertain experience.

That distinction gave me a clearer way to think about the decision. I could evaluate the card and the experience separately, instead of treating each new box as another necessary step toward the collection I wanted.

What I would tell someone making the same decision

My experience does not establish what anyone else will pull from a hobby box. It does explain why I would encourage someone chasing a specific card to look up that exact card before buying more boxes.

Be precise about the version you want. Then compare its price with what you are considering spending on the chase. Think about the purchases together, rather than evaluating each box as an isolated decision.

Also be honest about what would make the purchase satisfying. Would you still feel comfortable with the expense if the card you wanted did not appear? My repeated disappointment was information I needed to take seriously.

As the owner of Display Zone, I spend time thinking about the collections people choose to keep and display. This experience is personal, though. It concerns my own spending and the moment I questioned whether my buying decisions matched what I wanted to collect.

The most useful realization came from a simple comparison. I had a specific card in mind, and there was another way to acquire it. Looking up its value made that option real and gave me a reason to reconsider the chase.