Peter Levin, the 55-year-old co-founder and managing director at Griffin Gaming Partners, has turned a childhood hobby into a large private collection and, in his view, a financial hedge.
Levin says he has collected cards since age 4. His reserve now includes more than 500,000 trading cards, about 100,000 of them Pokemon cards, plus 25,000-plus comic books and thousands of pins. He also said he owns 'every Ohtani bobblehead that’s ever been made.'
The backdrop is not trivial. The U.S. national debt is more than $40 trillion, and the source material says it is still growing. It also says wage growth keeps stalling, job growth is staying stagnant and grocery prices are trending up. With the 10-year Treasury yield nearing 5% as heavy government borrowing puts pressure on the bond market, some investors are looking for safer places to store cash.
Levin is one of them, but in a way that looks more like enthusiasm than institutional finance. He told Fortune that he has been collecting 'practically my whole life' and that he has a deep appreciation for unique objects and the people who create them. He said he likes the look of certain cards and the quality of the paper.
He also points to numbers that have drawn attention to the market. According to data from The Washington Post, Pokemon cards generated a roughly 3,821% return between 2004 and 2025, compared with the S&P 500’s 483% gain over the same period.
Levin argues that the appeal is broader than nostalgia. He says trading cards benefit from a cycle in which each generation that collected as children later returns with disposable income. He also says there is 'stickiness' and community in the market, and that tangible assets have regained attention alongside bleeding-edge technologies.
The venture capitalist has also tied the hobby directly to his professional world. He said Griffin has a cohort that competes every other week and holds 'Magic the Gathering get-togethers.' He even told the Hollywood Reporter that Pokemon cards could one day serve as a global currency after an apocalypse, though he later said he was joking about the post-apocalyptic part.
The larger signal is plain. When the federal debt climbs past $40 trillion and the 10-year Treasury yield nears 5%, capital starts looking for stores of value outside the usual channels. That is not a theory; it is a market response.
Levin’s cards may never become money, and they may never need to. But in an era of heavy borrowing and rising pressure on the bond market, even a hobby can become a small act of private-market self-defense. The taxpayer may not get relief from the debt load, but the search for alternative assets shows how quickly free enterprise adapts when Washington keeps spending.
