Collecting Cards, Battle Passes, And Being Unable To Enjoy Anything Anymore

I can't take it anymore. Why does everything need a battle pass? Why do new card sets drop every month? Why am I constantly bombarded with reminders that my hobbies have time constraints? I'm always told I must move quickly if I want to finish the latest Fortnite or Call of Duty: Black Ops 6 battle pass, complete a Pokémon TCG set, or find the Lightning card I so desperately want from the Magic: The Gathering Final Fantasy collaboration before Wizards of the Coast moves on to the next big collaboration. That sentence is only half as exhausting as my hobbies have become.

Perhaps I haven't been paying attention, but it feels like all of my hobbies are constantly telling me that time is a finite resource and I don't have enough of it. Never mind the frustrating ads that pop up every time I boot up Fortnite or Call of Duty, reminding me that the season ends in XX days and I will miss out on this skin and that cosmetic if I don't finish it in time. The passage of time and the way companies move from one thing to the next is a reality check that my hobbies, despite how much I love them, are powered by capitalistic intent with sights aimed directly at my wallet. 

I thoroughly enjoyed playing Marvel Snap, the mobile card game featuring basically every hero and villain from Marvel's comic book universe, but I couldn't keep up with its monthly seasons. Not only was Marvel asking for my money each month, but the meta changed as frequently with the introduction of new cards, and the second you opt out of that loop, you lose. 

I thoroughly enjoyed playing Pokémon Trading Card Game Pocket, the mobile card-collecting game based on one of my all-time favorite franchises. However, after initially having months to finish up the first set – Genetic Apex – The Pokémon Company began a monthly cadence of expansion releases. I quickly dipped out once I recognized the frustration and heartbreak I felt with Snap was coming here, too.  Sure, you can still collect previous expansions, but sticking to an older expansion while a new one is in the spotlight means I'll never catch up. Like Snap, the meta is everything in Pocket. So I deleted the game from my phone.

Even off my phone, this cadence I could never hope to keep up with is apparent. I jumped into collecting physical Pokémon cards with the release of the 151 set a few years back. It seemed simple enough: it's just the first 151 Pokémon, and it was heavily steeped in nostalgia, revisiting the monsters and card designs I grew up with in the late 1990s. Imagine my surprise when, at the same time, The Pokémon Company releases a new set – and then another one, and another. Do I continue chasing 151 (mind you, the Pokémon card community is plagued with people flipping sets to chase profit, ruining it for those genuine card collectors), or do I hop over to the new set, or do I buy a new binder and try to do both? 

Exhausted and overwhelmed, I stopped. 

I haven't played Fortnite in months, save for the occasional match with my nephew when he needs my help completing a quest, because I can't bring myself to commit to completing the battle pass in time. "Wesley, you can just play the game and ignore the battle pass!" 

Have you played Fortnite??

The entire experience is built around that dang battle pass – the XP system, the collaborations, the in-game items and locations. It all funnels back into, "Wow, you should really purchase and complete this battle pass. You don't want to be the loser without this Power Ranger skin, do you?" I'll admit, for years, that FOMO kept me coming back to complete every single battle pass, even when I cared little for the Level 100 cosmetic waiting for me at the end of it. But not this time, Fortnite. I just can't do it anymore. 

The same goes for Call of Duty: Black Ops 6, though I hopped off that train far sooner than Fortnite's. 

I've never played Magic: The Gathering, but I have spent nearly $400 collecting cards from its Final Fantasy set that launched earlier this year. I adore Final Fantasy. It's one of my all-time favorite game series; there are multiple Final Fantasy XIII cards. With how many of my colleagues who play Magic, I have known for years that it was only a matter of time before I jumped in, and the Final Fantasy collaboration was my moment. I collected so many cards, waited in line at various stores before they opened to purchase bundles, and am slowly teaching myself how to play the game. I was excited to visit my local card shop and play against other people using Final Fantasy cards. 

Already, though, Wizards of the Coast has released the Edge of Eternities, an original set, and Spider-Man and Avatar: The Last Airbender cards are coming soon. Yes, I can absolutely still play and enjoy my Final Fantasy decks. But assuming I get as hooked as I think I will on Magic: The Gathering, am I really going to start collecting Spider-Man cards and then Avatar cards soon, all while catching up on Edge of Eternities, which I have ignored while trying to collect Final Fantasy cards? No.

I refuse. 

I know where this leads. 

I have drawn my line in the sand.

It's simple: I just cannot engage with the constant onslaught of releases anymore. I even get notifications from Kindle about my monthly reading achievements (that I don't care about) and a coffee shop app that promises a free drink if I buy this many drinks in a week (I won't). I don't know when it happened, but every single thing I love is demanding more and more of my time and money, and it has sucked the enjoyment out of them. 

I don't even have an uplifting thesis statement to end on. It just sucks. I'm tired of collecting cards; I'm tired of battle passes in everything; I'm tired of having to enjoy my hobbies by following a monthly cadence I can't keep up with. These things are supposed to be fun, but I'm just tired.