Taking the reader from the birth of sports cards in the 1880s to the present, Williams investigates the success in the shady world of baseball cards. At the center of the industry is Upper Deck, the largest manufacturer, with sales of over $260 million each year. Williams exposes how the power brokers in the game of baseball have changed this once-innocent hobby forever.
Published in 1995 when Williams was a writer and columnist for USA Today Baseball Weekly, Card Sharks has been frequently cited by other authors and remains the definitive investigative look into the trading card business.
Thouroghly researched and well presented. Detailed history of baseball card collecting, and how it was transformed from a kids’ pastime to a serious collectors’ hobby.
A fascinating behind the scenes look of an industry that exploded and the company that drove the industry. The themes of greens and quasi-unethical behaviour behind the scenes is shocking. A great trip back for those of us who collected sports cards as kids and are now shocked at the prices being charged.
Wow. This book blew me away. For a significant portion of my childhood, nearly all of my disposable income went toward collecting baseball, and later football cards. I was in the hobby when Upper Deck came into the industry in 1989. However, I was a kid, and the only real publications I knew of about the industry was the relentlessly positive Beckett Baseball Card Monthly. This book flew right past my radar when it came out, which is not surprising, given that I was 13 at the time.
Fast forward to 2009. I no longer actively collect cards, though I still do have my collection of ~20,000 cards sitting around collecting dust. The investment craze of the late 80s and early 90s has crumbled, leaving the sports card industry a shell of it's former massively profitable self. Allegations of Upper Deck counterfeiting Yu-Gi-Oh! cards surface, including a suit by their former partner, Konami. I don't think much of it, but then in the resulting discussion, it becomes clear that Upper Deck is not very well thought of in consumer circles. This book gets brought up, and suddenly my interest is piqued. Baseball cards? I used to be obsessed with those. I thought I knew everything about the market then.
I get my hands on the book, and it immediately launches into parts of the history of the industry that I never knew about. Here's a thorough description of why the first cards were inserted with tobacco (to keep the cigarettes from getting crushed in shipping), and why Topps dominated the industry with no competition for so long (lots of buying out competitors and signing of exclusive contracts). Then, it gets into the history of Upper Deck, and things begin to get even more juicy. Two guys get an idea to produce a counterfeit-proof baseball card. It's quickly revealed that they don't have the knowledge or the financing to get the company off the ground, so the circle of people involved in getting the company going becomes bigger and bigger. Eventually, they get involved with Richard McWilliam, an investor and a notorious cheapskate. As the dream becomes a reality, McWilliam increases his holding in the company by a combination of muscle, lying, backstabbing, and general ruthlessness. One by one the other people involved in the founding of the company are eliminated from the picture, and by the end of the book, McWilliam is in total control of the company.
Not surprisingly, an ego as big as McWilliam's is going to cause a lot of hurt feelings, and lawsuits begin to come at Upper Deck in droves. Some Upper Deck wins, some it loses, and most it settles out of court. However, there's no getting around the fact that nearly everybody involved in the early days of the company is disenfranchised, and that there is very, very shady behavior going on. For Upper Deck, which cultivates a squeaky clean image, this book is a shocking indictment. Combined with their recent lawsuit that was ruled in Konami's favor, and the other lawsuit that is currently pending by the MLB, this book has cemented my opinion of Upper Deck. Upper Deck, and especially its CEO McWilliam, is evil. Not just shady, not just power-hungry, and not just money-grubbing, but downright looking out for number one evil. I will not buy an Upper Deck product ever again until McWilliam is forced out, and the company has shown a serious commitment to legal and moral business practices.
Anyway, back to the book. It's great. Not as great if you're not a sports card fan, but still great. This chronicle of one cold, ruthless company is an eye-opener. As far as I'm concerned, this is required reading for any former, current-day, or aspiring collector.
Here are five main takeaways from Card Sharks: How Upper Deck Turned a Child's Hobby into a High-Stakes, Billion-Dollar Business by Pete Williams, based on its overarching themes and insights into the sports trading card industry:
1. The Evolution of a Hobby into a Business Empire: The book traces the transformation of sports card collecting from a simple childhood pastime, beginning with tobacco cards in the 1880s, into a billion-dollar industry by the late 20th century. Upper Deck played a pivotal role by elevating the quality and perceived value of trading cards, turning a casual hobby into a high-stakes commercial enterprise.
2. Upper Deck’s Innovative Disruption: Upper Deck revolutionized the trading card market with premium features like high-quality photography, UV coating, and holograms to deter counterfeiting. This innovation disrupted the dominance of companies like Topps and set a new standard, driving massive sales (over $260 million annually at its peak) and reshaping consumer expectations.
3. The Role of Greed and Commercialism: Williams highlights how the pursuit of profit corrupted the innocence of the hobby. Upper Deck’s aggressive marketing, exclusive contracts with sports legends (like Mickey Mantle’s lucrative autograph deals), and questionable business practices fueled an investment craze in the late 1980s and early 1990s, ultimately inflating a bubble that later burst.
4. The Power of Marketing and Exclusivity: The book underscores how Upper Deck’s success hinged on creating a sense of rarity and prestige. By positioning their cards as collectible investments and securing endorsements from iconic athletes, they tapped into pop culture and adult greed, shifting the demographic from kids to serious collectors and speculators.
5. The Fragility of the Boom: Despite its meteoric rise, the trading card industry’s explosive growth was unsustainable. Williams details how overproduction, market saturation, and controversies—like Upper Deck’s later allegations of counterfeiting—contributed to a crash in the 1990s, leaving the industry a shadow of its former self and exposing the risks of unchecked commercialization.
These takeaways reflect the book’s narrative of ambition, innovation, and the consequences of turning a nostalgic pastime into a corporate juggernaut. Published in 1995, it captures the industry’s peak and foreshadows its decline, offering a cautionary tale about the intersection of sports, business, and human nature.
If you were anywhere near card collecting in the 1980's, you owe it to your past self to read this book. Topps, Fleer and Donruss all upped the ante as the 80's wore on, but then Upper Deck came in and really took the commercialism to the next level. The stuff these guys did is amazing: re-printing "rare" cards and selling them out the back of their warehouse, lying about production numbers to promote demand, firing people left and right. It really is a fun ride.