Nobody could have predicted that a card game created by a math professor in 1993 would become the main source of funding for one of the biggest toy companies worldwide. And yet, here we are. Wizards of the Coast carried Hasbro on its back, with Magic doing the majority of the heavy lifting, according to the company’s most recent earnings, which were released in February. In just the fourth quarter, revenues increased by 31%. That’s an odd place to land for a brand that used to be synonymous with lunchroom oddities and basement hobbies.
It is nearly impossible to visualize the numbers themselves. Magic’s combined physical and digital revenue for 2023 and 2024 was over $2 billion. However, the official sales numbers don’t tell the whole story. The secondary market is the true engine; Wizards of the Coast does not directly collect from it, but it undoubtedly benefits from it. In ways that most outsiders are unaware of, that ecosystem—where players and speculators buy and sell singles—is vast, intricate, and subtly sophisticated.

A few years ago, I entered a small game store in a strip mall. It had laminated price sheets taped to the glass counter and fluorescent lighting. I didn’t recognize the foil printing of the card that a teenager was haggling over. With the deft touch of a jeweler, the store owner took out a binder, flipped through plastic sleeves, and quoted a figure that exceeded $400. The child nodded as if it made sense. Most likely, it was.
Every day, that scene takes place in thousands of shops, online marketplaces, and Discord servers. And it has been growing since the mid-1990s, when collectors began to notice that some early cards—printed in small quantities before Wizards realized what it had on its hands—were starting to become truly rare. The most well-known of these, a Black Lotus, has sold for hundreds of thousands of dollars in perfect condition. In 2023, the musician and self-described superfan Post Malone allegedly paid about $2 million for a unique Lord of the Rings crossover card. It was the first Magic card to surpass seven figures. Most likely, it won’t be the last.
The current state of the market is almost financialized. Prices fluctuate based on speculation that a card might suddenly become useful in a popular format, tournament results, and rumors of bans. Buyouts occur when a wealthy individual purchases every card that is available and resells them for three times the original price. This manipulation is called out by the community, sometimes angrily, but it continues because the system permits it.
Who’s playing right now is interesting. Recent reports indicate that younger strategists—those who may have grown up playing Risk or chess—are turning to Magic instead. A certain kind of mind—one that is at ease with probability, resource management, and extended planning horizons—is rewarded by the game. It’s easy to understand why it appeals to quants and finance types. The more you examine the crossover, the less coincidental it seems.
For its part, Hasbro appears to have finally realized what it possesses. The Final Fantasy, Marvel, and Spider-Man crossover sets have attracted casual consumers who would not have otherwise sleeved a card. Collectors are constantly debating whether this dilutes the brand or expands its base. Quietly expressed in some quarters of the community, there is concern that overprinting and frequent set releases may eventually erode the scarcity that initially created the secondary market.
However, the cardboard continues to move for the time being. The binders continue to fill. Additionally, a game that was meant to be a curiosity continues to silently generate revenue for early adopters.
