Contributor: John McTaggart
A couple of weeks ago I did something in the hobby that I have not ever done before, which is kinda hard to believe since I’ve been at this for a good long while.
I took the advice of friends who had been pushing me towards checking out a few of the auction houses that now occupy an ever-increasing space in the hobby.
I perused a few of these sites, focusing mainly on the weekly auctions, and settled on one in particular, I won’t say the exact name of the place in this article, but with a name that evokes the thought of precious metals, you may figure it out.
Anyhow, I browsed the listing, zeroed in of hockey (yes, hockey) and narrow my focus to a handful of cards I thought were both interesting and seemed to be headed to finish at a good price.
I bid on a total of 11 items, and after the auctions closed, and the extended bidding (which still doesn’t make sense to me) ended, I was the proud owner of a 2019 Upper Deck Young Guns Carter Verhaeghe PSA 10, and a 2020 Upper Deck Connor McMichael Young Guns PSA 10.
I was geeked!
Did I get them at the price I had originally hoped to pay— nope.
But that was okay, that’s how the system works, and I placed my max bid at a number I was comfortable with for these items.
And, as it turned out, at the end of the day it was enough.
I got an invite sent to me — which I paid promptly.
And a day or so later got confirmation the items shipped.
Like most, I tracked the package all the way to the front porch, greeted the delivery person with a smile, signed for the package, then ripped it open to check out my new cards.
Problem is, there was only one card in the package.
The McMichael Young Gun was a no show.
I double checked my invoice, and yes, I won it, and paid for it.
I emailed the precious metals company right away and got a response saying the item was coming from the Vault, and the transition between two major players in the hobby has had a few glitches.
However, my customer service person sent an email and vowed to get to the bottom of it.
A couple days went by… nothing.
A couple more… nothing.
I emailed again.
Another reply from my rep. saying how sorry they were for the mix up and how they actually hadn’t heard anything from the “vault,” but would send another email and let me know as soon as possible.
A few more days… nothing.
A few more after that… nothing.
I email again.
Now, I’m getting a little upset.
I get the same basic reply as I got before, except this time, there was an emphasis on how how of a priority finding this card was, which was cool.
A few more days… nothing.
A few more… nothing.
I email yet again.
This time, the reply was a little more clinical.
Essentially, it read — we have no clue where your card is, and don’t call us, we’ll call you. Thanks.
Now I’m pissed off.
There was no offer of any resolution.
No replacement card.
Simply put… it’s terrible.
Now, am I using this space to complain.
Do I feel bad about that at all — absolutely not.
This hobby has a few core foundations, and among these pillars is trust.
You offer something to me, as a consumer, and I elect to partake in that service with the belief, the trust, that you will deliver on your end.
In this case, I bid on, won and pad for a trading card.
Granted, it was only a $38 card, but the amount makes little difference.
That $38 is a lot of money to me, and many others, too.
You don’t hold up your end of the bargain, and then essentially dismiss my concerns.
So what’s really happened at the core is you’ve stolen my money and my card, and don’t seem to care much about that at all.
I know, the namesake of this company lives on a golf course and has a nine-figure bank account, I’ve heard.
Anyone who can succeed to that level in this hobby makes me truly happy.
But if this is how you reached those heights, then you’re an con-man not a success story.
So, people, readers, hobby-lovers, please proceed with caution when dealing with the precious metals company.
Because in experience, it’s not real — it’s fool’s gold.
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