Pokemon TCG Pocket Is A Pale Imitation Of The Card Collecting Hobby
Like the rest of the PokeWorld, I’ve downloaded Pokemon TCG Pocket. I wasn’t into it enough to go on holiday to New Zealand in order to play early like many others, but I’ve hopped into the full release because FOMO gonna FOMO.
I’ve done well. I’ve opened around 50 packs and hit some bangers. Two Zapdos ex allows me to build a deck around one of my favourite monsters in the TCG (I ran an Electropower Zapdos deck back in Sun & Moon Team Up), and there are a bunch of random alt arts that look amazing, too.
Illustrated copies of Gyarados, Electrode, Cubone, and Dragonite all look great. I’ve also managed to pull two full art ex cards in Blastoise and Articuno, and the highlight of my collection is the immersive art Mewtwo ex, which comes with its own cutscene of Mewtwo breaking out of containment.
I’ll give Pokemon TCG Pocket its dues: it makes pulling cards feel great. The 3D holo effects are beautiful, the pack rip itself is satisfying and surprisingly tactile, and I love just teasing the cards back and forth to see them glisten.
But that’s where the positivity ends. Pokemon TCG Pocket is a game ruled by currencies and timers. There’s a currency for reducing the timer before you can open packs, there’s a currency for reducing the timer before you can Wonder Pick again, there’s a currency to buy these currencies, there’s a currency to buy cosmetics, there’s a currency to buy individual cards, there’s a currency you can only get if you buy the battle pass, and of course there’s a currency that you buy with your real money in order to skip it all and open more packs.
It’s exhausting just writing that, and it’s even worse playing the game. It took me hours to work out what the little purple tokens even did; I kept earning them and couldn’t work out where or how to spend them.
This is why the developer made packs feel so good. To make you want to open more. When you start the game, you’re flush with currency from completing all the initial objectives. The first hit’s free, as they say. And once you’ve pulled a few ex cards or illustrated rares, you’re hooked. You want to skip the timer. You want to buy the skip currency with your other currency. You want to skip again. No more currency. You can buy some gold, but you shouldn’t… Ah, flip it.
I’m not averse to games making money. If we want to keep playing them, we need to pay for them. But when the things you’re spending cash on are so obfuscated, when it’s so complicated to navigate exactly what you’re getting for your hard-earned dollars, it rubs me the wrong way.
I’d prefer it if the game just put a price tag on packs. I think it costs about 70p per pack, but fewer people would buy them if the cost wasn’t so confusing. It seems like a good deal if you’re getting 10 packs for 50 gold. But when you think about spending eight quid on a bunch of digital pictures, it feels a bit more disappointing.
And this is where my final problem rears its pixelated head. Digital cards just aren’t the same as their physical counterparts. I pulled the immersive art Mewtwo ex, but can I show my friends? Nope. Other than a little display on my profile, there’s no way of sharing my joy.
There’s no trading (although that’s coming). There’s no way to do a pack battle or play for keeps like I loved to do on the playground as a kid. I can’t get them graded to display them in my office, I can’t scour eBay for the coolest art of my favourite monsters. If I stop playing, there’s no way I can sell my collection to recoup some of the costs.
I’ve spent money on digital cosmetics before. I’m not against it. I bought Fuse’s heirloom in Apex Legends (although I made sure to pull one naturally first). It looks cool, and it’s a way to support a game that I’ve poured thousands of hours into. But I think of Concord and worry. What happens if Apex is no longer deemed profitable for EA? The same goes for Pokemon TCG Pocket.
I love opening packs on my phone. But I know that TCG Pocket wants me to love doing that, wants me to spend my cash opening more to get that illustrated Gengar. And in getting drawn into this self-destructive serotonin-boosting loop, I’m paying real money for pretty pictures on my phone. That’s not something I enjoy.
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