What does it mean to be a board game collector? I think most of us in the board game hobby refer to the selection of games that we own as “our collection”, I often wonder how much thought is put into curating a collection, versus having an excuse for wanton consumerism.

Wile reading Sir Terry Pratchett’s 2004 novel Going Postal, a character by the name of Stanley Howler describes his hobby, which is pin collecting.

“While most ‘pinheads’ do indeed begin with a casually acquired flashy novelty pin, followed by the contents of their grandmothers’ pincushion, haha, the path to a truly worthwhile collection lies not in the simple disbursement of money in the nearest pin emporium, oh no. Any dilettante can become ‘kingpin’ with enough expenditure, but for the true ‘pinhead’ the real pleasure is in the joy of the chase, the pin fairs, the house clearances, and, who knows, a casual glint in the gutter that turns out to be a well-preserved Doublefast or an unbroken two-pointer. Well is it said: ‘See a pin and pick it up, and all day long you’ll have a pin.”

The line about the thrill of the chase really resonated with me. Aside from board games, one of my other main hobbies is reading. I have at least 6 book cases in my house, full of books. As my kids get older, their books take up more and more of my bookshelves, which means the remaining shelves have started to get double stacked. I’ve culled half a dozen boxes of books of my shelf, and yet, I still have hundreds of books that I just can’t bare the thought of parting with. Even though the vast majority of my book consumption these days is through my local library (either by borrowing the physical book, or the audio book and ebooks through Libby), I still dedicate a significant portion of my wall space to my books.

I’ve gotten a bit off track, though. When I was a teenager, I fell in love with a book. The Book of Flying by Keith Miller. I bought it on for $2 on heavy discount from a clearance table at Coles. The story is about Pico, a boy born without wings in a city of winged people. He falls in love with a winged girl after he rescues her from the sea, but their love is forbidden. He goes on a journey to find his wings, or perish in the attempt. I adored The Book of Flying, reading it over and over again. Unfortunately, I lost it when I broke up with a girlfriend, and she absconded with most of my books. For the next 8 years, it was my journey to find a copy of The Book of Flying. It was what I searched for whenever I visited a used book store, and visiting used book stores became a pastime for me and my wife when we visited new towns.

Yes, I know I could have just ordered the book on Amazon. But the point was having something to look for, a reason to go into all those used book stores and crawl through the dusty stacks.

Then one day I found it. High on a shelf in Victoria, B.C. I instantly bought it for $8, and felt complete and whole. The major downside was that now I had no real reason to visit used bookstores. I still do, but I miss having something to chase. And the high I felt after I finally acquired my grail book, is something I’m still searching for to this day.

So how does this relate to board games? As per Stanley Howler, any dilettante can become ‘kingpin’ with enough expenditure. Simply spending money recklessly does not make a collector, nor does simply having an obscene amount of games. You don’t need to own everything for a product line. Just because your favourite game released a new expansion, such as a new Phoenixborn & Chimera expansion for Ashes Reborn, or yet another scenario pack for Arkham Horror: The Card Game, or even another heroine pack for Bullet, no matter how much fun that game is, doesn’t mean you have to buy it to maintain your ‘complete collection’. The real joy and charm in a collection, is the personal story you have for every entry. How boring is the conversation when someone asks you how you got a game and your answer is just “bought it online”. The much more interesting tale is when you tell someone you bought a copy of Istanbul while you were in Turkey, or you found an out of print expansion for Five Tribes in a bookshop while on vacation in Nova Scotia. Or even the time my friend Bigfoot found a complete copy of Shogun for $4 at our local Value Village. To me, being a board game collector isn’t about volume or completion, it’s about stories and the chase.

I think we’ve all felt the “completionist” inside of us swell up when games get released as part of a set or series. Shut Up & Sit Down did a video review of the first four games in the Stefan Feld’s City Collection, where they struggle with the idea of owning only part of a series. This ‘problem’ does get exacerbated when publishers put sequential numbers on the sides of their boxes, making things look really awkward when you choose to only own the games that you enjoy. But purchasing games you don’t enjoy simply so your boxes have friends on their shelf sounds like a pretty silly pastime to me.

I always meant to pick up Scott Pilgrim 4 & 5. It’s never been a priority, though.

At the end of the day, I don’t think a board game collection is measured in numbers, or in whether the shelf looks “complete.” It’s measured in the stories those boxes carry with them. The hunt through used game stores, finding hidden gems at a thrift store, or even the strange scenarios that we found yourself in ownership of a new game. It’s these moments that give a board game collection a real value.

Being a collector isn’t about owning everything. It’s about owning something that matters. A collection should be a reflection of who you are, not just a representation of money you threw at an online retailer. So the next time you’re tempted by a hot new game, or are feeling the sting of FOMO when a hot kickstarter game is fulfilling, consider changing your tactic. Find something to really care about, a gem that no one else can easily find, and embark on a epic hunt.