Thoughts on the Last 3 Years in the Card Industry

The following is pure conjecture – not fact, and should be treated as such.

I get emails from my local card shop, and in it I read today that Upper Deck canceled the remainder of its forthcoming baseball products, including Goudey (this must be what happens when you settle out of court with MLB Properties). I also read that the USA baseball stuff it was going to produce will now be produced by Topps. All of this is incredibly interesting to me, and not simply because I collect sports cards. It's interesting to me because it all boils down to one person.

In my opinion, all of this movement of the last year – official licensing, lawsuits, and the like – stems from Michael Eisner's involvement in Topps. And I'd say that Major League Baseball wants to be in bed with a big guy like him – not some small-pond guy like Richard McWilliam.

At Disney, Eisner was a big fish in one of the biggest ponds. He's a brand name all unto himself, and in the non-card universe, I'd bet more people have heard of Eisner than have heard of Topps, and certainly more than Upper Deck.

This latest development brings back the question: in 2007, why didn't Topps cave to Upper Deck's bid of a dollar more than Madison Dearborn's? Did Shorin know something about a wind of change at MLB Properties? Or was he simply looking out for the best interests of the company and the brand by a) not selling to their number-one competitor, and b) by brazenly puffing out his chest and selling the company his way (albeit not in the best interests of the shareholders) without kowtowing to the upstart? It could be a little of both. The other question is: did MLB Properties have a preference in who bought Topps?

I think Eisner has ushered in more good changes at Topps – a shift to the Web, with video and more meaningful interactions with the collector (not just customer service stuff) – than Upper Deck ever would have, or would have had reason to.

For Upper Deck to ever seriously think that Topps could be beaten in a one-on-one for exclusive MLB licensing is preposterous, especially with a heavy hitter like Eisner in the mix. So when 2010 Upper Deck debuted earlier this year, it seemed like the company was on a collision course with a court date.

Seriously, I get it that baseball is the biggest sport with the most money at stake, but why did Upper Deck produce a regular set without being able to show team logos? If they had to fill shipping quotas, keep the cash flow going until they could get rid of their baseball team, and hoodwink the public in the process, why didn't they put out a set like Studio? Or an innovative, every-card-is-autographed, prom-photo set of everybody in tuxedos? Instead, every card read like Upper Deck was thumbing its nose at Major League Baseball.

Also, it feels like Upper Deck doesn't get it that a Topps exclusivity now does not necessarily mean a Topps exclusivity in the future.

Yes, Upper Deck is losing millions now, but possibly not future millions. So why burn your bridges?

Old News: The Topps Sale

The world is a funny place. There's a story in today's New York Times about the proliferation of mashup videos on YouTube of Soulja Boy's song "Crank That." One of the specific examples that the reporter cites is a version composed of clips from Disney animated films. The reporter begs the question if the mashup is protected by parody (and therefore is not subject to a potential lawsuit from Disney), and goes on to mention Disney's fierce history of suing for copyright infringement.

So why bring this up? Because it's funny in two ways. First, it would be funny to be in a courtroom where a judge or jury is made to watch a mashup video of Tigger and Bambi singing hiphop, and second, Michael Eisner, that old Disney attack dog, is now at the helm of Topps, a company that proudly markets at least two different products based entirely on parody (the mainstay Wacky Packages and the newcomer 'Hollywood Zombies'). I wonder if the Topps board room will still display boxes of Wacky Packages on the credenza.

Yes, the fix is in: the Topps board approved the sale to Eisner, Tornante, and Madison Dearborn, and it's my guess that the Mothership came back around to him after they got a glimpse of what life with Upper Deck would be like (sometimes money isn't the only deciding factor). So what can/should we expect from the new, privatized Topps? I'm holding out for three things to happen:

1. Packs of cards going down in price
2. Public tours of the Topps factory
3. The Wonderful World of Topps: a themepark in Lower Manhattan featuring such rides as Refractor Mountain and Mr. Mantle's Wild Ride.