Why Valley Chase Exists

My name is Jordan — most people know me as Valley Chase.

But Valley Chase really starts with my dad, Joel.

When I was a kid, we’d go to Vikings training camp together. I can still remember him holding me up so I could yell “ADRIAN!” hoping Adrian Peterson would come over and sign something.

I remember Brett Favre walking onto the field in purple.

I remember eating subs with my dad, watching football, laughing about how ridiculous it was that Brett Favre was actually playing for the Vikings.

At the time, they were just normal days.

Now they’re some of the most valuable things I have.

My dad passed away from cancer when I was 16.

After he died, I started collecting Brett Favre cards from his time with Minnesota.

Not because they were rare.

Not because of the grade.

Not because of the population report.

Not because somebody on eBay said they were worth a certain amount.

Because they brought me back to him.

For a moment, I could hold a piece of cardboard and be back there again.

That’s when I understood what makes this hobby different.

A card can be worth more than its comp.

It can hold a person.

A season.

A childhood.

A relationship.

A moment you didn’t realize mattered until years later.

Cards have this strange ability to pull us backward into memories while simultaneously making us imagine what could come next.

Nostalgia and possibility, sitting in the same piece of cardboard.

That’s why I built Valley Chase.

Not simply to sell cards.

I want to protect the part of the hobby that makes us feel something.

The part that existed before we knew what a comp was.

Before every card became a number.

Before every rip needed to be justified as a financial decision.

Because somewhere in your collection, there’s probably a card that the market would never value the way you do.

And I think that’s beautiful.

Valley Chase is my attempt to keep that part of the hobby alive — and maybe help create whatever comes next.

So if you’ve got a story about the card, player, person, or moment that brought you into the hobby, I genuinely want to hear it.

Because everybody has one.

This is mine.

Preserve the hobby.
Feel something.

Nothing but love and respect.

— Jordan / Valley Chase