Alec Torelli -- Hustling - The Beginnings

It was recess time in the 5th grade, and while most kids my age rush to the handball court, I had no time for such trivial matters. After selling my depreciating “Pog” (remember the game with slammers where the object was to flip the quarter like piece of paper over by throwing the slammer onto the pog?) collection for $20, I started a trading card collection. I specialized in basketball, although I enjoyed the likes of football, hockey and baseball. Nearly everyday, several fellow collectors and I would bring our stash of cards to school, carefully disguised in binders with a stack of math papers on top, and dedicated every ounce of free time to trading. I took particular interest in Kobe Bryant (biased since he was my favorite player) and was known to “pay” an absurd premium (by pay I mean trade other cards) for any cards with his name. I should also note that this wasn’t any ordinary 5th grade class. We had the unique twist of being placed in a 5th/6th combo and every other card trader was a 6th grader. Like any adolescent circle, I, being the young one, did my best to fit in and they, being the coolest kids on campus at a K – 6th school, were quite condescending.

For instance, one day a fellow classmate Paul Diaz, my favorite of the trio, wore a backwards hat to school – not only was it backwards but it was diagonally backwards. While he was a badass 6th grader of an ethnic background, and I was a white 5th grader, I tried fervently to emulate his style, only to find out I couldn’t quite pull it off. After getting ridiculed, especially because I had a non-fitted hat and his was fitted which made me look even more ridiculous, I resorted to new techniques. I realized quickly that I needed to have the most lucrative trading card collection so that the others would look up to me. Since they admired cards as well, I made it my mission to have the best collection possible. I equipped myself with stylish binders, laminated card protectors and a chronological order of my cards with my most pristine ones at the front. Fortunately, it was nearly a week ago that I had drew, out of sheer luck, a Kobe Bryant rookie card worth $60 dollars out of one of those booster packs that come with 10 or so cards in it. The man at the store offered me $50 on the spot and I turned him down. Mind you this was when $50 was equivalent to $50,000 today (seeing that I was a 5th grader and $50 dollars was probably 90% of my net worth). I never cared about the money, I just wanted the collection and to be admired. Sigmund Freud once said, “everything we do stems from the desire for sex and the desire to feel important.” The money could not buy either of those, particularly the latter in this case, and much to the store manager’s surprise, I declined his generous offer.

On this particular afternoon, BJ (Paul’s best friend) and I were socializing on the benches and I was bragging to them about my lucky draw. I explained to them the story of how I turned down a $50 offer and added an extremely rare card to my increasing Kobe Bryant collection. BJ waited patiently, and after fueling my ego in admiration for several minutes, he chimed in with a story of his own. While I was still in a state of euphoria, he told me the elusive story of how he acquired a Kobe Braynt rookie card from a friend. If my memory serves me right, his friend was repaying a debt. I listen attentively and naturally began inquiring about what cards I could offer in exchange for his. After making several generous offers, we agreed on a Scottie Pippen rookie card along with a run of the mill Stephen Marbury card in exchange for this Kobe Bryant card.

“What a steal!” I thought to myself. “These 6th graders sure aren’t as smart as they mount up to be.”

Notice how not once did BJ talk about trading the card or offering it to me, he merely talked it up, knowing full well it was something I wanted, and waited patiently for me to make him an offer. Nor did he ever mention the cards he wanted. He let me make the offer, like it was my idea the whole time. After making the exchange, I did what any elated 5th grader would do. I ran over to share the exciting news with Paul.

After explaining the situation at length, Paul looked at me like I was born yesterday.
“You idiot, didn’t you look at the card before you traded?”
“What do you mean?”
“The edges you moron, they are perforated! He tore that card out of a magazine. I was with him when he did it.”

My heart sank. I went back to BJ with foolish hopes of getting reimbursed. Obviously, anyone capable of making such a pre-emptive and despicable trade has no remorse or intention of giving me my card back. “All trades are final,” was all I got. I should have decked him right then and there, but thought otherwise since the most likely outcome was a black eye for me and another laugh for him.

I went home that day walking a little slower than before, mourning over my loss. I tried to piece together the events of the day. After some deliberation, I stumbled on a conclusion. Given that I could not get the card back, I decided I must outsmart the enemy. I educated myself in trading and equipped myself with Beckett Magazine, the official price guide for trading cards, updated weekly. I vowed to find “leaks” in BJ’s knowledge and continue to trade with him, learning along the way. I realized too, that he was an absolute genius. He found my biggest weakness, my bias love for Kobe Bryant, and utilized it to his advantage. Although it was an unethical scam, instead of vowing for revenge, I actually admired his skill as a trader. Although he conducted business in a matter I deemed wrong, he was a genius nonetheless.

When faced with an unfortunate situation such as the traumatizing one depicted above, we aren’t left with many options. Our best alternative is to learn from the mistakes we made, take whatever good we can out of it, and use it to our advantage in the future. This doesn’t mean one has to compromise his ethical views for the betterment of his stature. Had I been prepared with something as simple as a Beckett, I would have known the card was a fraud, for it wouldn’t have been listed, and such a mistake could have been easily avoided. Similar to poker, this situation has taught me a lot about losing, hustling and life. I also realized that looking back, I could care less that I am “out” a Scottie Pippen card. If you had to attribute a dollar amount to the lesson I learned in hustling, I would pay an exorbitant premium to have that knowledge that this provided me since it only cost me something trivial (a basketball card). I am quite happy with the outcome. I started to view life as a series of lessons, some more expensive than others. I’ve always said, “by the time I’m dead, I’ll have it all figured out.” Given that this is clearly a false adage, we would be fools to expect to have all the answers now. I once had an invaluable conversation with a close friend in which he told me the story of how he paid $1,000 for a book which was now out of print. When confronting him for an explanation he said the following.

“You really enjoyed the book Happier right?”
“Why of course, it’s the best book I’ve ever read. It’s like my bible!”
“It would sure be hard to put a price on how valuable the information in the book is, right?”
“Of course.”
“Imagine your life before you were equipped with the knowledge.”
“It’s hard to imagine. Worse being a conservative adjective.”
“Now think of your life now. How much better is it? How significant was the impact in your life?”
“Pretty damn huge.”
“Given that you know what you know now, hypothetically, if the only way to ever retain that knowledge you acquired was through money, how much would you pay?”
“Easily $25,000. It’s hard to put a price on happiness, but I think my life would be better if I had the knowledge in that book than if I had an extra $25,000. I’d have to say at least that.”
“You just proved my point. Thank you.”

It took a minute for it to sink in but it finally hit me. Did you realize what just happened? Think about everything, both good and bad, that’s happened in your life. Books are the most measurable and trivial example. It’s quite amazing how good of an investment it is to spend $20 on a book that could whose content could be worth 1000 times that. Its easy to see how one could pay $1,000 to gain the knowledge from a good book. The information acquired is often invaluable. The same could be said for lessons in life, including being hustled on the playground, or a bad business transaction.

I’ve had my fair share of unfortunate events happen throughout the years (most monetary scams) and the money I lost was never more valuable than the information and strength I gained from the lesson. That being said, learning through these events isn’t possible unless we confront them with an open mind and unbiased critique of our own faults and behavior. I’ve learned, though trial and error, to embrace the hardships as inexpensive lessons relative to what is learned. Also, given that I have this same repeated feeling of grown confidence, strength and knowledge, after every so-called unfortunate event happens, can we really say that they are unfortunate? If they provide us with three really important qualities (again strength, knowledge and confidence), then aren’t they in fact good once the extremely temporary emotional hardships subside? Furthermore, we should not condemn those who go to great lengths to betray or take advantage of us, but thank them. For if it wasn’t for their acts, not only would it cost us more in the future, but we would be weaker and more naive people. While on the subject, wouldn’t treating these people (scammers) with the same respect you treat a friend make you a more loving and ultimately happier person than if you were to seek revenge? That’s not to say we should continue to befriend them, but to understand and learn from them. Readers might think I’m the biggest advocate of Kanye West, as I’ve quoted him several times, and while I can assure you that’s not true, one of the most influential aphorisms I know comes from a rap song. Ironic? I’ll give you that. “That which don’t kill me, will only make me stronger.” It’s impossible to put a price on knowledge, so lets not attempt to. Instead, let’s embrace the difficulties, for they are what challenge and make us grow as people. I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember the last time I learned anything from a winning poker session.