I never expected my boys to fall in love with collecting cards. Hell, I'm not sure I expected them to fall in love with anything I was passionate about. That's just how it goes sometimes between fathers and sons: we hope our interests will spark something in them, but we learn to let go of those expectations pretty quickly.
What I didn't expect was something better.
Neither Peyton nor Owen collect cards. They don't spend Saturday mornings poring over eBay listings or debating the merits of PSA versus BGS grading. They don't have that collector's itch that keeps you awake at night thinking about the one card that got away. But every card show, they're right there beside me. Working. Learning. Building something together that has nothing to do with cardboard and everything to do with connection.
The Rhythm of Our Seasons
Our card show calendar follows the rhythm of football seasons. From August through November, we step away from the show circuit entirely. Not because we want to, but because we have to. I'm back on the high school sidelines coaching, and Owen: my freshman receiver: is learning what it means to compete at a level where the stakes feel real for the first time.
Those Friday nights under the lights, watching Owen run routes and make catches, remind me why we pause the show schedule. There's something sacred about being present for those moments when your kid discovers what they're capable of. The card shows will always be there. These games, this season of his life: it's fleeting.
But come December, when the final whistle blows on the last playoff game, we're both eager to get back to our other kind of teamwork. There's an anticipation that builds during those months away. We start planning, talking about which shows to hit, what inventory we need to move, how to improve our setup. The pause makes the return sweeter.
Different Sons, Different Strengths
Peyton, my older son, found his role behind the camera. While Owen and I work the table, Peyton captures everything: the interactions, the finds, the stories that unfold at card shows. He's become our video editor, learning software I couldn't begin to understand, crafting content that tells the story of what we do better than I ever could with words alone.
Watching him work taught me something about purpose. Peyton doesn't need to love cards to love what we're building. He found his own way to contribute, his own passion within our passion. The kid has an eye for moments I would have missed: the collector's face when they find that card they've been hunting, the way conversation flows between strangers who discover they share a common obsession.
Owen's different. He's a natural at the table, engaging with customers in ways that surprise me. Maybe it's because he doesn't carry the collector's baggage: he's not protective of inventory or emotionally attached to specific cards. To him, they're products that make people happy, and his job is to help make that connection happen. There's a purity in his approach that puts customers at ease.
I've watched him talk a nervous kid through their first big purchase, explaining condition and value without the condescension that sometimes creeps into our hobby. I've seen him remember repeat customers' names and what they collect, building relationships that extend beyond transactions. He's teaching me that you don't have to be a collector to understand what collecting means to people.
Family Business, Literally
This past July, when we hosted the JDP Card Show, it became clear that what we're building extends beyond just the boys and me. My college-age daughter Aniston was there, taking on responsibilities she'd never handled before. My sister pitched in, bringing her own energy and perspective to the event. For one weekend, the show became a true family operation.
There's something powerful about watching your family work together toward a common goal. We each brought different skills, different personalities, different approaches to problem-solving. But we shared the same commitment to making the event successful, not just for ourselves but for everyone who attended.
The show exceeded our expectations in every way. Attendance was strong, vendors were happy, collectors left satisfied. But the real success was harder to measure: it was in the way we functioned as a team, the way we supported each other through the long day, the way we celebrated together when it was over.
Aniston later told me she finally understood why I was so passionate about this business. It wasn't the cards themselves, she said. It was the community. The connections. The way perfect strangers could bond over a shared piece of cardboard history.
The Lessons We Don't Plan
Working shows with my sons has taught me things I never intended to learn. I've learned that Peyton has an entrepreneur's mind, always thinking about ways to improve our process, expand our reach, tell our story better. I've learned that Owen has natural sales instincts and genuine empathy for customers that can't be taught.
But mostly, I've learned that the best parts of fatherhood happen when you stop trying to force your kids to become miniature versions of yourself. When I gave up on the idea that they had to love collecting to be part of what we're doing, space opened up for them to contribute in ways that were authentically theirs.
They're not there because they have to be. They're there because we've built something together that feels meaningful to all of us. The work we do serves a community of people who are passionate about something we care about too, even if we express that care differently.
Looking Forward
We've got something special planned for April 26, 2026. I can't share all the details yet, but I can tell you that it's going to build on what we learned from the July show. We're thinking bigger, planning better, and most importantly, we're approaching it as the family operation we've become.
The boys are already talking about their roles, what they want to improve, how they want to contribute. Peyton's planning video content that will capture not just the event but the preparation, the behind-the-scenes work that makes it happen. Owen's thinking about customer experience, ways to make sure everyone who attends feels welcomed and valued.
That anticipation, that shared excitement about what we're building together: that's the real treasure here.
Connection Beyond Collecting
People often ask me what I'm trying to teach my sons through this business. The honest answer is that they're teaching me as much as I'm teaching them. They're showing me that passion can take different forms, that you can be part of something meaningful without being consumed by it the way I am.
The card table has become our family's common ground: not because we all love the same things, but because we've found ways to love the same work. We're building something together that matters to people, that creates connections and preserves memories and brings joy to collectors who understand that cardboard can hold more than just statistics and photographs.
Every December, when we return to the show circuit after our football sabbatical, I'm reminded that the best parts of this business have nothing to do with profit margins or inventory turnover. They're about the conversations between customers and my sons, the way Peyton's camera captures moments that will matter to families years from now, the way Owen remembers what makes each collector tick.
It's about the way we work together, complement each other's strengths, cover for each other's weaknesses. It's about building something that will outlast any individual card or collection: a legacy of connection that has nothing to do with what's in the display cases and everything to do with what happens around the table.
That's the real education happening here. Not about card values or market trends, but about what it means to work alongside people you love, building something that serves others while bringing you closer to each other.
The cards brought us together, but the connection we've built will last long after the last pack is opened.
Ready to experience the DocScott Sports Cards difference? Visit us at our next show or browse our collection at DocScott Sports Cards. Follow our journey on social media for behind-the-scenes content from Peyton and updates from the table with Owen.