I still remember my first Pokémon pack - thick plastic, a faint crinkle in my palm, and the buzz of anticipation rising as the wrapper peeled away. Inside, cardboard treasures in bold colors and shimmering foil captured more than a cartoon; they transported me to playground trades and weekend card shops around Las Vegas, where stories and favorites passed from hand to hand. That first unwrapping started something long-lasting: the kick of finding a rare holo, the satisfaction

Nothing matches the electric hush that falls across a crowded room moments before a mystery pack tears open. That tension feels familiar to anyone who's collected since the early days. Back in the '90s, long before smart phones or online breaks, my first pack was opened at a folding card table surrounded by friends and strangers. We didn't know what cards hid beneath the plastic, but anticipation buzzed through us all - shared hope humming as new rookies and legends revealed