Team Rocket Returns... In a Podcast!

EP 7: Set Critic: Fossil

In this episode Theo and Judah review the set of fossil! Check out our subscription - We would really appreciate the support! Subscription: https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/subscribe  Feel free to send us fan mail, and new ideas! [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/fan_mail/new]

EP 6: Yearly collection tour review

Sorry this episode is a little late. Theo and Judah tour their collections - This will done once per year at the end of the school year. Check out our subscription  - We would really appreciate the support! Subscription: https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/subscribe  Feel free to send us fan mail, and new ideas! [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/fan_mail/new]

EP 5: We Went to a Card Show + Tips and Tricks

Theo and Judah talk about their experiences at a card show and give tips and tricks for if you want to go to a card show. Check out our subscription - We would really appreciate the support! POLL, leave you answers in the comments! Question: What is your favorite thing to do at a card show. Answer 1:  Buy shiny cardboard Answer 2: Selling shiny cardboard Answer 3: Vending Answer 4: I have not been to a card show Answer 5: Pokémon card shows have evolved from innocent schoolyard swap meets into high-stakes, dystopian flea markets fueled by desperation and bad hygiene. What used to be a wholesome space for kids to trade a shiny Charizard has transformed into a chaotic trading floor that feels like Wall Street, but with more sweatpants. Modern shows are less about celebrating a beloved childhood franchise and more about watching grown adults aggressively barter over cardboard like they are trading oil futures. Ultimately, these events are a hilarious yet tragic circus of hyper-commercialism that will make you question the future of humanity. The primary horror of any Pokémon show is the terrifying creature known as the "Hustler Vendor." These are middle-aged men who treat nine-year-old children with the same ruthless corporate aggression as a corporate raider liquidating a company. You will regularly witness a grown man look a child dead in the eye and explain why the kid’s favorite card is actually worthless garbage, only to offer him a stale piece of gum and a common energy card for it. It is a predatory ecosystem where the primary goal is to scam children out of their lunch money and their dignity. Furthermore, the atmosphere is ruined by an exhausting obsession with plastic slabs and imaginary stock markets. Binders of loose cards are gone, replaced by high-security glass cases holding cards graded by acronym-heavy companies like PSA or BGS. Attendees do not talk about the beautiful artwork or the actual card game; they scream about "population reports," "liquidity," and "market dips." It is profoundly depressing to watch a man in a Pikachu onesie explain his financial retirement strategy based entirely on the volatile market cap of a holographic cartoon mouse. The physical environment of these conventions is an assault on all five human senses. Imagine a humid high school gymnasium packed with thousands of stressed-to-the-brim collectors, with zero airflow and the distinct, overwhelming aroma of unwashed laundry and stale energy drinks. You must fight through a sea of aggressive body odor just to catch a glimpse of a overpriced piece of cardboard. The lines are endless, the ambient noise is a deafening roar of shouting men, and there is absolutely nowhere to sit except the floor, where you risk getting trampled by a guy sprinting to buy a case of booster boxes. In conclusion, modern Pokémon card shows are a dystopian nightmare masquerading as a family-friendly hobby event. They combine the financial stress of the stock market crash of 1929 with the chaotic energy and scent of a middle school locker room. Instead of fostering a community of passionate fans, they bring together a crowd of hyper-aggressive speculators looking to make a quick buck off children’s nostalgia. If you want to keep your love for Pokémon intact—and avoid breathing in air that is 40% sweat vapor—you are much better off staying far away from these convention halls. Aka I am not a fan. Feel free to send us fan mail, and new ideas! [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/fan_mail/new] Support the show [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/support]

EP 4: Set Critic: Jungle

In this episode Theo, Judah and a special guest review Jungle. Check out our subscription - We would really appreciate the support! Feel free to send us fan mail, and new ideas! [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/fan_mail/new] Support the show [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/support]

EP 3: Set Critic: Base Set

In this episode Theo, Judah and a special guest embark on a journey through Base Set. Check out our subscription - We would really appreciate the support! POLL! Leave your answer in the comments. Question: Do you think base set is overrated? Option 1: Its a great set! Option 2: Its okay Option 3: Mechanically, playing Base Set felt less like a strategic card game and more like a chaotic playground scam. The rules were so wildly unbalanced that a single Professor Oak card let you discard your hand and draw seven new cards just because you felt like it. Matches were regularly decided by a literal coin flip on turn one. Worse, the game hated logic; it was mathematically smarter to beat your opponent to death with a basic Hitmonchan than to waste six turns evolving a majestic Blastoise. Artistically, the set had the visual diversity of a DMV waiting room. Genius artist Ken Sugimori drew almost every single card using the exact same generic stock art we saw on lunchboxes and folders. Most backgrounds were just lazy, abstract color smears that looked like MS Paint mistakes. Yes, Mitsuhiro Arita’s holographic art was beautiful, but the other 90% of the set looked like a collection of clip art. Modern cards feature jaw-dropping, hand-painted masterpieces, making Base Set look ancient and empty. Then there is the modern secondary market, which turned a harmless childhood hobby into a toxic playground for crypto bros and wealthy influencers. Logan Paul wore a Charizard around his neck like a millennial flavor flav, and suddenly everyone thought the bent Machamp in their attic was worth a mansion. The artificial scarcity is hilarious because Nintendo printed literally millions of these things. You are not buying a rare piece of history; you are paying a scalper for a piece of cardboard that smelled like old Scholastic Book Fairs. Ultimately, Base Set deserves credit for starting a phenomenon, but it belongs in a museum, not on a pedestal. It gave us broken gameplay, repetitive art, and a modern financial bubble fueled entirely by mid-life crises. Every subsequent generation improved the formula, proving that the original blueprint was deeply flawed. Nostalgia is a hell of a drug, but it is time to admit that Base Set was just a shiny gateway drug to a much better game. Aka. Yes it is. Feel free to send us fan mail, and new ideas! [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/fan_mail/new] Support the show [https://www.buzzsprout.com/2616269/support]