Time to Automate: Why Sports Card Grading Needs an AI Revolution

As I head to the National for the first time, this is a topic I have been thinking about for quite some time, and a recent video inspired me to put this together with help from ChatGPT’s o3 model doing deep research. Enjoy!

Introduction: Grading Under the Microscope

Sports card grading is the backbone of the collectibles hobby – a PSA 10 vs PSA 9 on the same card can mean thousands of dollars of difference in value. Yet the process behind those grades has remained stubbornly old-fashioned, relying on human eyes and judgment. In an age of artificial intelligence and computer vision, many are asking: why hasn’t this industry embraced technology for more consistent, transparent results? The sports card grading industry is booming (PSA alone graded 13.5 million items in 2023, commanding ~78% of the market), but its grading methods have seen little modernization. It’s a system well overdue for a shakeup – and AI might be the perfect solution.

The Human Element: Trusted but Inconsistent

For over 30 years, Professional Sports Authenticator (PSA) has set the standard in grading, building a reputation for expertise and consistency . Many collectors trust PSA’s human graders to spot subtle defects and assess a card’s overall appeal in ways a machine allegedly cannot. This trust and track record are why PSA-graded cards often sell for more than those graded by newer, tech-driven companies. Human graders can apply nuanced judgment – understanding vintage card print idiosyncrasies, knowing how an odd factory cut might affect eye appeal, etc. – which some hobbyists still value.

However, the human touch has undeniable downsides. Grading is inherently subjective: two experienced graders might assign different scores to the same card. Mood, fatigue, or unconscious bias can creep in. And the job is essentially a high-volume, low-wage one, meaning even diligent graders face burnout and mistakes in a deluge of submissions. Over the pandemic boom, PSA was receiving over 500,000 cards per week, leading to a backlog of 12+ million cards by early 2021. They had to suspend submissions for months and hire 1,200 new employees to catch up. Relying purely on human labor proved to be a bottleneck – an expensive, slow, and error-prone way to scale. Inconsistencies inevitably arise under such strain, frustrating collectors who crack cards out of their slabs and resubmit them hoping for a higher grade on a luckier day. This “grading lottery” is accepted as part of the hobby, but it shouldn’t be.

Anecdotes of inconsistency abound: Collectors tell stories of a card graded PSA 7 on one submission coming back PSA 8 on another, or vice versa. One hobbyist recounts cracking a high-grade vintage card to try his luck again – only to have it come back with an even lower grade, and eventually marked as “trimmed” by a different company. While such tales may be outliers statistically, they underscore a core point: human grading isn’t perfectly reproducible. As one vintage card expert put it, in a high-volume environment “mistakes every which way will happen” . The lack of consistency not only erodes collector confidence but actively incentivizes wasteful behavior like repeated resubmissions.

Published Standards, Unpredictable Results

What’s ironic is that the major grading companies publish clear grading standards. PSA’s own guide, for instance, specifies that a Gem Mint 10 card must be centered 55/45 or better on the front (no worse than 60/40 for a Mint 9), with only minor flaws like a tiny print spot allowed. Those are numeric thresholds that a computer can measure with pixel precision. Attributes like corner sharpness, edge chipping, and surface gloss might seem more subjective, but they can be quantified too – e.g. by analyzing images for wear patterns or gloss variance. In other words, the criteria for grading a card are largely structured and known.

If an AI system knows that a certain scratch or centering offset knocks a card down to a 9, it will apply that rule uniformly every time. A human, by contrast, might overlook a faint scratch at 5pm on a Friday or be slightly lenient on centering for a popular rookie card. The unpredictability of human grading has real consequences: collectors sometimes play “submitter roulette,” hoping their card catches a grader on a generous day. This unpredictability is so entrenched that an entire subculture of cracking and resubmitting cards exists, attempting to turn PSA 9s into PSA 10s through persistence. It’s a wasteful practice that skews population reports and costs collectors money on extra fees – one that could be curbed if grading outcomes were consistent and repeatable.

A Hobby Tailor-Made for AI

Trading cards are an ideal use-case for AI and computer vision. Unlike, say, comic books or magazines (which have dozens of pages, staples, and complex wear patterns to evaluate), a sports card is a simple, two-sided object of standard size. Grading essentially boils down to assessing four sub-criteria – centering, corners, edges, surface – according to well-defined guidelines. This is exactly the kind of structured visual task that advanced imaging systems excel at. Modern AI can scan a high-resolution image of a card and detect microscopic flaws in an instant. Machine vision doesn’t get tired or biased; it will measure a border centering as 62/38 every time, without rounding up to “approximately 60/40” out of sympathy.

In fact, several companies have proven that the technology is ready. TAG Grading (Technical Authentication & Grading) uses a multi-patented computer vision system to grade cards on a 1,000-point scale that maps to the 1–10 spectrum. Every TAG slab comes with a digital report pinpointing every defect, and the company boldly touts “unrivaled accuracy and consistency” in grading. Similarly, Arena Club (co-founded by Derek Jeter) launched in 2022 promising AI-assisted grading to remove human error. Arena Club’s system scans each card and produces four sub-grades plus an overall grade, with a detailed report of flaws. “You can clearly see why you got your grade,” says Arena’s CTO, highlighting that AI makes grading consistent across different cards and doesn’t depend on the grader. In other words, the same card should always get the same grade – the ultimate goal of any grading process.

Even PSA itself has dabbled in this arena. In early 2021, PSA acquired Genamint Inc., a tech startup focused on automated card diagnostics. The idea was to integrate computer vision that could measure centering, detect surface issues or alterations, and even “fingerprint” each card to track if the same item gets resubmitted. PSA’s leadership acknowledged that bringing in technology would allow them to grade more cards faster while improving accuracy. Notably, one benefit of Genamint’s card fingerprinting is deterring the crack-and-resubmit cycle by recognizing cards that have been graded before. (One can’t help but wonder if eliminating resubmissions – and the extra fees they generate – was truly in PSA’s financial interest, which might explain why this fingerprinting feature isn’t visibly advertised to collectors.)

The point is: AI isn’t some far-off fantasy for card grading – it’s here. Multiple firms have developed working systems that scan cards, apply the known grading criteria, and produce a result with blinding speed and precision. A newly launched outfit, Zeagley Grading, showcased in 2025 a fully automated AI grading platform that checks “thousands of high-resolution checkpoints” on each card’s surface, corners, and edges. Zeagley provides a QR-coded digital report with every slab explaining exactly how the grade was determined, bringing transparency to an area long criticized for its opacity. The system is so confident in its consistency that they’ve offered a public bounty: crack a Zeagley-slabbed card and resubmit it – if it doesn’t come back with the exact same grade, they’ll pay you $1,000. That is the kind of repeatability collectors dream of. It might sound revolutionary, but as Zeagley’s founders themselves put it, “What we’re doing now isn’t groundbreaking at all – it’s what’s coming next that is.” In truth, grading a piece of glossy cardboard with a machine should be straightforward in 2025. We have the tech – it’s the will to use it that’s lagging.

Why the Slow Adoption? (Ulterior Motives?)

If AI grading is so great, why haven’t the big players fully embraced it? The resistance comes from a mix of practical and perhaps self-serving reasons. On the practical side, companies like PSA and Beckett have decades of graded cards in circulation. A sudden shift to machine-grading could introduce slight changes in standards – for example, the AI might technically grade tougher on centering or surface than some human graders have historically. This raises a thorny question: would yesterday’s PSA 10 still be a PSA 10 under a new automated system? The major graders are understandably cautious about undermining the consistency (or at least continuity) of their past population reports. PSA’s leadership has repeatedly stated that their goal is to assist human graders with technology, not replace them. They likely foresee a gradual integration where AI catches the easy stuff – measuring centering, flagging obvious print lines or dents – and humans still make the final judgment calls, keeping a “human touch” in the loop.

But there’s also a more cynical view in hobby circles: the status quo is just too profitable. PSA today is bigger and more powerful than ever – flush with record revenue from the grading boom and enjoying market dominance (grading nearly 4 out of every 5 cards in the hobby ). The lack of consistency in human grading actually drives more business for them. Think about it: if every card got a perfectly objective grade, once and for all, collectors would have little reason to ever resubmit a card or chase a higher grade. The reality today is very different. Many collectors will crack out a PSA 9 and roll the dice again, essentially paying PSA twice (or more) for grading the same card, hoping for that elusive Gem Mint label. There’s an entire cottage industry of group submitters and dealers who bank on finding undergraded cards and bumping them up on resubmission. It’s not far-fetched to suggest that PSA has little incentive to eliminate that lottery aspect of grading. Even PSA’s own Genamint acquisition, which introduced card fingerprinting to catch resubmissions, could be a double-edged sword – if they truly used it to reject previously-graded cards, it might dry up a steady stream of repeat orders. As one commentator wryly observed, “if TAG/AI grading truly becomes a problem [for PSA], PSA would integrate it… but for now it’s not, so we have what we get.” In other words, until the tech-savvy upstarts start eating into PSA’s market share, PSA can afford to move slowly.

There’s also the human factor of collector sentiment. A segment of the hobby simply prefers the traditional approach. The idea of a seasoned grader, someone who has handled vintage Mantles and modern Prizm rookies alike, giving their personal approval still carries weight. Some collectors worry that an algorithm might be too severe, or fail to appreciate an intangible “eye appeal” that a human might allow. PSA’s brand is built not just on plastic slabs, but on the notion that people – trusted experts – are standing behind every grade. Handing that over entirely to machines risks alienating those customers who aren’t ready to trust a computer over a well-known name. As a 2024 article on the subject noted, many in the hobby still see AI grading as lacking the “human touch” and context for certain subjective calls. It will take time for perceptions to change.

Still, these concerns feel less convincing with each passing year. New collectors entering the market (especially from the tech world) are often stunned at how low-tech the grading process remains. Slow, secretive, and expensive is how one new AI grading entrant described the incumbents – pointing to the irony that grading fees can scale up based on card value (PSA charges far more to grade a card worth $50,000 than a $50 card), a practice seen by some as a form of price-gouging. An AI-based service, by contrast, can charge a flat rate per card regardless of value, since the work and cost to the company are the same whether the card is cheap or ultra-valuable. These startups argue they have no conflicts of interest – the algorithm doesn’t know or care what card it’s grading, removing any unconscious bias or temptation to cut corners for high-end clients. In short, technology promises an objective fairness that the current system can’t match.

Upstart Efforts: Tech Takes on the Titans

In the past few years, a number of new grading companies have popped up promising to disrupt the market with technology. Hybrid Grading Approach (HGA) made a splash in 2021 by advertising a “hybrid” model: cards would be initially graded by an AI-driven scanner, then verified by two human graders. HGA also offered flashy custom labels and quicker turnaround times. For a moment, it looked like a strong challenger, but HGA’s momentum stalled amid reports of inconsistent grades and operational missteps (underscoring that fancy tech still needs solid execution behind it).

TAG Grading, mentioned earlier, took a more hardcore tech route – fully computerized grading with proprietary methods and a plethora of data provided to the customer. TAG’s system, however, launched with limitations: initially they would only grade modern cards (1989-present) and standard card sizes, likely because their imaging system needed retraining or reconfiguration for vintage cards, thicker patch cards, die-cuts, etc. This highlights a challenge for any AI approach: it must handle the vast variety of cards in the hobby, from glossy Chrome finish to vintage cardboard, and even odd-shaped or acetates. TAG chose to roll out methodically within its comfort zone. The result has been rave reviews from a small niche – those who tried TAG often praise the “transparent grading report” showing every flaw – but TAG remains a tiny player. Despite delivering what many consider a better mousetrap, they have not come close to denting PSA’s dominance.

Arena Club, backed by a sports icon’s star power, also discovered how tough it is to crack the market. As Arena’s CFO acknowledged, “PSA is dominant, which isn’t news to anyone… it’s definitely going to be a longer road” to convince collectors. Arena pivoted to position itself not just as a grading service but a one-stop marketplace (offering vaulting, trading, even “Slab Pack” digital reveal products). In doing so, they tacitly recognized that trying to go head-to-head purely on grading technology wasn’t enough. Collectors still gravitate to PSA’s brand when it comes time to sell big cards – even if the Arena Club slab has the same card graded 10 with an AI-certified report, many buyers simply trust PSA more. By late 2024, Arena Club boasted that cards in their AI-grade slabs “have sold for almost the same prices as cards graded by PSA” , but “almost the same” implicitly concedes a gap. The market gives PSA a premium, deservedly or not.

New entrants continue to appear. Besides TAG and Arena, we’ve seen firms like AGS (Automated Grading Systems) targeting the Pokémon and TCG crowd with a fully automated “Robograding” service. AGS uses lasers and scanners to find microscopic defects “easily missed by even the best human graders,” and provides sub-scores and images of each flaw. Their pitch is that they grade 10x faster, more accurately, and cheaper – yet their footprint in the sports card realm is still small. The aforementioned Zeagley launched in mid-2025 with a flurry of press, even offering on-site instant grading demos at card shows. Time will tell if they fare any better. So far, each tech-focused upstart has either struggled to gain trust or found itself constrained to a niche, while PSA is grading more cards than ever (up 21% in volume last year ) and even raising prices for premium services. In effect, the incumbents have been able to watch these challengers from a position of strength and learn from their mistakes.

PSA: Bigger Than Ever, But Is It Better?

It’s worth noting that PSA hasn’t been entirely tech-averse. They use advanced scanners at intake, have implemented card fingerprinting and alteration-detection algorithms (courtesy of Genamint) behind the scenes, and likely use software to assist with centering measurements. Nat Turner, who leads PSA’s parent company, is a tech entrepreneur himself and clearly sees the long-term importance of innovation. But from an outsider’s perspective, PSA’s grading process in 2025 doesn’t look dramatically different to customers than it did a decade ago: you send your cards in, human graders assign a 1–10 grade, and you get back a slab with no explanation whatsoever of why your card got the grade it did. If you want more info, you have to pay for a higher service tier and even then you might only get cursory notes. This opacity is increasingly hard to justify when competitors are providing full digital reports by default. PSA’s stance seems to be that its decades of experience are the secret sauce – that their graders’ judgment cannot be fully replicated by a machine. It’s a defensible position given their success, but also a conveniently self-serving one. After all, if the emperor has ruled for this long, why acknowledge any need for a new way of doing things?

However, cracks (no pun intended) are showing in the facade. The hobby has not forgotten the controversies where human graders slipped up – like the scandal a few years ago where altered cards (trimmed or recolored) managed to get past graders and into PSA slabs, rocking the trust in the system. Those incidents suggest that even the best experts can be duped or make errors that a well-trained AI might catch via pattern recognition or measurement consistency. PSA has since leaned on technology more for fraud detection (Genamint’s ability to spot surface changes or match a card to a known altered copy is likely in play), which is commendable. But when it comes to the routine task of assigning grades, PSA still largely keeps that as an art, not a science.

To be fair, PSA (and rivals like Beckett and SGC) will argue that their human-led approach ensures a holistic assessment of each card. A grader might overlook one tiny print dot if the card is otherwise exceptional, using a bit of reasonable discretion, whereas an algorithm might deduct points rigidly. They might also argue that collectors themselves aren’t ready to accept a purely AI-driven grade, especially for high-end vintage where subtle qualities matter. There’s truth in the notion that the hobby’s premium prices often rely on perceived credibility – and right now, PSA’s brand carries more credibility than a newcomer robot grader in the eyes of many auction bidders. Thus, PSA can claim that by sticking to (and refining) their human grading process, they’re actually protecting the market’s trust and the value of everyone’s collections. In short: if it ain’t broke (for them), why fix it?

The Case for Change: Consistency, Transparency, Trust

Despite PSA’s dominance, the case for an AI-driven shakeup in grading grows stronger by the day. The hobby would benefit enormously from grading that is consistent, repeatable, and explainable. Imagine a world where you could submit the same card to a grading service twice and get the exact same grade, with a report detailing the precise reasons. That consistency would remove the agonizing second-guessing (“Should I crack this 9 and try again?”) and refocus everyone on the card itself rather than the grading lottery. It would also level the playing field for collectors – no more wondering if a competitor got a PSA 10 because they’re a bulk dealer who “knows a guy” or just got lucky with a lenient grader. Every card, every time, held to the same standard.

Transparency is another huge win. It’s 2025 – why are we still largely in the dark about why a card got a 8 vs a 9? With AI grading, detailed digital grading reports are a natural output. Companies like TAG and Zeagley are already providing these: high-res imagery with circles or arrows pointing out each flaw, sub-scores for each category, and even interactive web views to zoom in on problem areas. Not only do these reports educate collectors on what to look for, they also keep the grading company honest. If the report says your card’s surface got an 8.5/10 due to a scratch and you, the collector, don’t see any scratch, you’d have grounds to question that grade immediately. In the current system, good luck – PSA simply doesn’t answer those questions beyond generic responses. Transparency would greatly increase trust in grading, ironically the very thing PSA prides itself on. It’s telling that one of TAG’s slogans is creating “transparency, accuracy, and consistency for every card graded.” Those principles are exactly what collectors have been craving.

Then there’s the benefit of speed and efficiency. AI grading systems can process cards much faster than humans. A machine can work 24/7, doesn’t need coffee breaks, and can ramp up throughput just by adding servers or scanners (whereas PSA had to physically expand to a new 130,000 sq ft facility and hire dozens of new graders to increase capacity ). Faster grading means shorter turnaround times and fewer backlogs. During the pandemic, we saw how a huge backlog can virtually paralyze the hobby’s lower end – people stopped sending cheaper cards because they might not see them back for a year. If AI were fully deployed, the concept of a months-long queue could vanish. Companies like AGS brag about “grading 10,000 cards in a day” with automation; even if that’s optimistic, there’s no doubt an algorithm can scale far beyond what manual grading ever could.

Lastly, consider cost. A more efficient grading process should eventually reduce costs for both the company and the consumer. Some of the new AI graders are already undercutting on price – e.g. Zeagley offering grading at $9.99 a card for a 15-day service – whereas PSA’s list price for its economy tier floats around $19–$25 (and much more for high-value or faster service). Granted, PSA has the brand power to charge a premium, but in a competitive market a fully automated solution should be cheaper to operate per card. That savings can be passed on, which encourages more participation in grading across all value levels.

The ChatGPT Experiment: DIY Grading with AI

Perhaps the clearest proof that card grading is ripe for automation is that even hobbyists at home can now leverage AI to grade their cards in a crude way. Incredibly, thanks to advances in AI like OpenAI’s ChatGPT, a collector can snap high-resolution photos of a card (front and back), feed them into an AI model, and ask for a grading opinion. Some early adopters have done just that. One collector shared that he’s “been using ChatGPT to help hypothetically grade cards” – he uploads pictures and asks, “How does the centering look? What might this card grade on PSA’s scale?” The result? “Since I’ve started doing this, I have not received a grade lower than a 9” on the cards he chose to submit. In other words, the AI’s assessment lined up with PSA’s outcomes well enough that it saved him from sending in any card that would grade less than mint. It’s a crude use of a general AI chatbot, yet it highlights something powerful: even consumer AI can approximate grading if given the standards and some images.

Right now, examples like this are more curiosities than commonplace. Very few collectors are actually using ChatGPT or similar tools to pre-grade on a regular basis. But it’s eye-opening that it’s even possible. As image recognition AI improves and becomes more accessible, one can imagine a near-future app where you scan your card with your phone and get an instantaneous grade estimate, complete with highlighted flaws. In fact, some apps and APIs already claim to do this for pre-grading purposes. It’s not hard to imagine a scenario where collectors start publicly verifying or challenging grades using independent AI tools – “Look, here’s what an unbiased AI thinks of my card versus what PSA gave it.” If those two views diverge often enough, it could pressure grading companies to be more transparent or consistent. At the very least, it empowers collectors with more information about their own cards’ condition.

Embracing the Future: It’s Time for Change

The sports card grading industry finds itself at a crossroads between tradition and technology. PSA is king – and by many metrics, doing better than ever in terms of business – but that doesn’t mean the system is perfect or cannot be improved. Relying purely on human judgment in 2025, when AI vision systems are extraordinarily capable, feels increasingly antiquated. The hobby deserves grading that is as precise and passion-driven as the collectors themselves. Adopting AI for consistent and repeatable standards should be an easy call: it would eliminate so many pain points (inconsistency, long waits, lack of feedback) that collectors grumble about today.

Implementing AI doesn’t have to mean ousting the human experts entirely. A hybrid model could offer the best of both worlds – AI for objectivity and humans for oversight. For example, AI could handle the initial inspection, quantifying centering to the decimal and finding every tiny scratch, then a human grader could review the findings, handle any truly subjective nuances (like eye appeal or print quality issues that aren’t easily quantified), and confirm the final grade. The human becomes more of a quality control manager rather than the sole arbiter. This would massively speed up the process and tighten consistency, while still keeping a human in the loop to satisfy those who want that assurance. Over time, as the AI’s track record builds trust, the balance could shift further toward full automation.

Ultimately, the adoption of AI in grading is not about devaluing human expertise – it’s about capturing that expertise in a reproducible way. The best graders have an eye for detail; the goal of AI is to have 1000 “eyes” for detail and never blink. Consistency is king in any grading or authentication field. Imagine if two different coin grading experts could look at the same coin and one says “MS-65” and the other “MS-67” – coin collectors would be up in arms. And yet, in cards we often tolerate that variability as normal. We shouldn’t. Cards may differ subtly in how they’re produced (vintage cards often have rough cuts that a computer might flag as edge damage, for instance), so it’s important to train the AI on those nuances. But once trained, a machine will apply the standard exactly, every single time. That level of fairness and predictability would enhance the hobby’s integrity.

It might take more time – and perhaps a serious competitive threat – for the giants like PSA to fully embrace an AI-driven model. But the winds of change are blowing. A “technological revolution in grading” is coming; one day we’ll look back and wonder how we ever trusted the old legacy process, as one tech expert quipped. The smarter companies will lead that revolution rather than resist it. Collectors, too, should welcome the change: an AI shakeup would make grading more of a science and less of a gamble. When you submit a card, you should be confident the grade it gets is the grade it deserves, not the grade someone felt like giving it that day. Consistency. Transparency. Objectivity. These shouldn’t be revolutionary concepts, but in the current state of sports card grading, they absolutely are.

The sports card hobby has always been a blend of nostalgia and innovation. We love our cardboard heroes from the past, but we’ve also embraced new-age online marketplaces, digital card breaks, and blockchain authentication. It’s time the critical step of grading catches up, too. Whether through an industry leader finally rolling out true AI grading, or an upstart proving its mettle and forcing change, collectors are poised to benefit. The technology is here, the need is obvious, and the hobby’s future will be brighter when every slabbed card comes with both a grade we can trust and the data to back it up. The sooner we get there, the better for everyone who loves this game

🎩 Retire Your Top Hat: Why It’s Time to Say Goodbye to “Whilst”

There’s a word haunting documents, cluttering up chat messages, and lurking in email threads like an uninvited character from Downton Abbey. That word is whilst.

Let’s be clear: no one in the United States says this unironically. Not in conversation. Not in writing. Not in corporate life. Not unless they’re also saying “fortnight,” “bespoke,” or “I daresay.”

It’s Not Just Archaic—It’s Distracting

In American English, whilst is the verbal equivalent of someone casually pulling out a monocle in a team meeting. It grabs attention—but not the kind you want. It doesn’t make you sound smart, elegant, or refined. It makes your writing sound like it’s cosplaying as a 19th-century butler.

It’s the verbal “smell of mahogany and pipe tobacco”—which is great for a Sherlock Holmes novel. Less so for a Q3 strategy deck.

“But It’s Just a Synonym for While…”

Not really. In British English, whilst has some niche usage as a slightly more formal or literary variant of while. But in American English, it feels affected. Obsolete. Weird. According to Bryan Garner, the go-to authority on usage, it’s “virtually obsolete” in American English.

Even The Guardian—a proudly British publication—says:

while, not whilst.
If they don’t want it, why should we?

The Data Doesn’t Lie

A quick glance at any American English corpus tells the story:
while appears hundreds of times more often than whilst.
You are more likely to encounter the word defenestrate in a U.S. context than whilst. (And that’s saying something.)

When You Use “Whilst” in American Writing, Here’s What Happens:

  • Your reader pauses, just long enough to think, “Wait, what?”
  • The tone of your writing shifts from clear and modern to weirdly antique.
  • Your credibility takes a micro-dip, especially if you’re talking about anything tech, product, UX, or business-related.

If your aim is clarity, fluency, and modern tone, whilst is working against you. Every. Single. Time.

So Why Are People Still Using It?

Sometimes it’s unintentional—picked up from reading British content or working with UK colleagues. Fair. But often it’s performative. A subtle “look how elevated my writing is.” Spoiler: it’s not.

Here’s a Radical Idea: Use “While”

  • It’s simple.
  • It’s modern.
  • It’s not pretending it’s writing for The Times in 1852.

Final Verdict

Unless you are:

  • A Dickensian character,
  • Writing fanfiction set in Edwardian England,
  • Or legally required by the BBC,

please—for the love of plain language—stop using whilst.

Say while. Your readers will thank you. Your teammates will stop rolling their eyes. And your copy will immediately gain 200% more credibility in the modern world.


This blog post was created with help from ChatGPT to combat the “whilst” crowd at my office

The Rise and Heartbreak of Antonio McDyess: A Superstar’s Path Cut Short

Note: Antonio McDyess is one of my favorite players that no one I know seems to know or remember, so I asked ChatGPT Deep Research to help tell the story of his rise to the cusp of superstardom. Do a YouTube search for McDyess highlights – it’s a blast.

Humble Beginnings and Early Promise

Antonio McDyess hailed from small-town Quitman, Mississippi, and quickly made a name for himself on the basketball court. After starring at the University of Alabama – where he led the Crimson Tide in both scoring and rebounding as a sophomore – McDyess entered the star-studded 1995 NBA Draft . He was selected second overall in that draft (one of the deepest of the 90s) and immediately traded from the LA Clippers to the Denver Nuggets in a draft-night deal . To put that in perspective, the only player taken ahead of him was Joe Smith, and McDyess’s draft class included future luminaries like Jerry Stackhouse, Rasheed Wallace, and high-school phenom Kevin Garnett . From day one, it was clear Denver had landed a budding star.

McDyess wasted little time in validating the hype. As a rookie in 1995-96, the 6’9” forward (affectionately nicknamed “Dice”) earned All-Rookie First Team honors , immediately showcasing his talent on a struggling Nuggets squad. By his second season, despite Denver’s woes, McDyess was averaging 18.3 points and 7.3 rebounds per game , often the lone bright spot on a team that won just 21 games. His blend of size, explosive athleticism, and effort made him a fan favorite. Nuggets supporters could “see the future through McDyess” and believed it could only get better . He was the franchise’s great hope – a humble, hardworking Southern kid with sky-high potential – and he carried those expectations with quiet determination.

High-Flying Star on the Rise

McDyess’s game was pure electricity. He was an elite leaper who seemed to play above the rim on every possession, throwing down thunderous dunks that brought crowds to their feet . In fact, it took only a few preseason games for observers to start comparing him to a young Shawn Kemp – except with a better jump shot . That was the kind of rarefied talent McDyess possessed: the power and ferocity of a dunk-contest legend, combined with a soft mid-range touch that made him a matchup nightmare. “He’s showing the talent and skills that made him a premier player,” Suns GM Bryan Colangelo raved during McDyess’s early career, “There’s so much upside to his game that he can only get better.”

After two productive seasons in Denver, McDyess was traded to the Phoenix Suns in 1997, and there his star continued to ascend. Teaming with an elite point guard in Jason Kidd, the 23-year-old McDyess thrived. He averaged 15.1 points (on a phenomenal 53.6% shooting) along with 7.6 rebounds in 1997-98, and he only improved as the season went on . With “Dice” patrolling the paint and finishing fast breaks, the Suns won 56 games that year – a remarkable turnaround that had fans in Phoenix dreaming of a new era. McDyess was wildly athletic and electric, the perfect running mate for Kidd in an up-tempo offense . At just 23, he was already being looked at as a future superstar who could carry a franchise.

That rising-star status was cemented during the summer of 1998. McDyess became one of the hottest targets in free agency, courted by multiple teams despite the NBA’s lockout delaying the offseason. In a now-legendary saga, McDyess initially agreed to return to Denver, but had second thoughts when Phoenix pushed to re-sign him. The situation turned into something of a sports soap opera: Jason Kidd and two Suns teammates actually chartered a plane and flew through a blizzard to Denver in a last-ditch effort to persuade McDyess to stay in Phoenix . (They were so desperate to keep him that they literally showed up at McNichols Arena in the snow!) Nuggets management caught wind of this and made sure Kidd’s crew never got to meet with McDyess – even enlisting hockey legend Patrick Roy to charm the young forward with a signed goalie stick . In the end, McDyess decided to stick with Denver, a testament to how much the franchise – and its city – meant to him. The entire episode, however, underscored a key point: McDyess was so coveted that All-Star players were willing to move heaven and earth to recruit him.

Back in Denver for the lockout-shortened 1999 season, McDyess validated all that frenzy by erupting with the best basketball of his life. Freed to be the focal point, he posted a jaw-dropping 21.2 points and 10.7 rebounds per game that year . To put that in context, he became one of only three Nuggets players in history to average 20+ points and 10+ rebounds over a season (joining franchise legends Dan Issel and George McGinnis) . At just 24 years old, McDyess earned All-NBA Third Team honors in 1999 , officially marking him as one of the league’s elite forwards. He was no longer just “promising” – he was arriving. Denver fans, long starved for success, finally had a young cornerstone to rally around. As one local writer later remembered, “McDyess was giving Nuggets fans hope for the future” during those late ’90s seasons. Every night brought a new display of his blossoming skill: a high-flying alley-oop slam, a soaring rebound in traffic, a fast-break finish punctuated by a rim-rattling dunk. The NBA took notice that this humble kid from Mississippi had become a nightly double-double machine and a highlight waiting to happen.

Peak of His Powers

By the 2000-01 season, Antonio McDyess was widely regarded as one of the best power forwards in the game. In an era stacked with superstar big men – Tim Duncan, Kevin Garnett, Chris Webber, and others – McDyess had firmly earned his place in that conversation. He led the Nuggets with 20.8 points and 12.1 rebounds per game in 2000-01 , becoming just the third Denver player ever to average 20-and-10 for a full season . That year he was rewarded with his first and only NBA All-Star selection , a recognition that Nuggets fans felt was overdue. On a national stage, the 26-year-old McDyess rubbed shoulders with the league’s greats, validating that he truly belonged among them.

Beyond the numbers, what made McDyess special was how he played the game. He was an “old-school” power forward with new-age athleticism. One moment he’d muscle through a defender in the post for a put-back dunk; the next he’d step out and coolly knock down a 15-foot jumper. On defense, he held his own as well – blocking shots, controlling the glass, and using his quickness to guard multiple positions. In fact, McDyess was selected to represent the United States in the 2000 Sydney Olympics, where he earned a gold medal and even hit a game-winner during the tournament . Winning Olympic gold was both a personal triumph and another affirmation that he was among basketball’s elite. As the 2000-01 NBA season went on, McDyess seemed to put it all together. He notched monster stat lines – including a career-high 46 points and 19 rebounds in one game – and routinely carried a middling Nuggets squad on his back. The team finished 40-42, their best record in six years , and while they narrowly missed the playoffs, the arrow was pointing straight up. It was easy to imagine Denver building a contender around their star forward. Antonio McDyess was on the path to superstardom, and everyone knew it.

By this point, even casual fans could recognize McDyess’s name. He wasn’t flashy off the court – a quiet, humble worker rather than a self-promoter – but on the court he was downright spectacular. Longtime Nuggets followers will tell you how McDyess’s presence made even the dark days of the late ’90s bearable. He gave them hope. As one writer later lamented, “The joy he brought Denver fans through the tough, lean ’90s was immeasurable.” In McDyess, the Nuggets saw a centerpiece to build around for the next decade. He was just entering his prime, continuing to refine his skills to match his athletic gifts, and carrying himself with a quiet confidence that inspired those around him. It truly felt like nothing could stop him.

A Cruel Twist of Fate

But sometimes in sports, fate intervenes in the unkindest way. For Antonio McDyess, that moment came just as he reached his peak. Late in the 2000-01 season – after he had been playing some of the best basketball of his life – McDyess suffered a painful knee injury, a partially dislocated kneecap . He tried to come back healthy for the next year, but the worst was yet to come. Early in the 2001-02 season, only about ten games in, disaster struck: McDyess ruptured his patellar tendon in his left knee, the kind of devastating injury that can end careers in an instant . He underwent surgery and was ruled out for the entire season . In fact, that one injury wiped away effectively two years of his prime – McDyess would miss all of 2001-02 and all of 2002-03, watching helplessly from the sidelines as the promising trajectory of his career was violently ripped away .

It’s hard to overstate just how heartbreaking this turn of events was. One month, McDyess was on top of the world – an All-Star, the face of a franchise, seemingly invincible when he took flight for a dunk. The next, he was facing the reality that he might never be the same player again. As Denver Stiffs painfully summarized, “Oh what could have been. McDyess had the makings of a long-time star in this league until a freak injury happened.” In fact, that knee injury was so catastrophic that it effectively ended not only McDyess’s superstar run but also played a part in ending coach Dan Issel’s tenure (Issel resigned amid the team’s struggles shortly after) . The basketball gods, it seemed, can be unbearably cruel.

For Nuggets fans – and NBA fans in general – McDyess’s injury was the kind of story that just breaks your heart. In the years that followed, McDyess valiantly attempted to come back. He was traded to the New York Knicks in 2002 as part of a blockbuster deal, only to re-injure the same knee in a freak accident (landing from a dunk in a preseason game) before he could ever really get started in New York . He eventually found a second life as a role player: after a brief return to Phoenix, McDyess signed with the Detroit Pistons and reinvented his game to compensate for his diminished athleticism . Instead of soaring above the rim every night, he became a savvy mid-range shooter and a reliable veteran presence, helping Detroit reach the NBA Finals in 2005.

McDyess later reinvented himself as a reliable mid-range shooter and veteran leader – a testament to his determination – but the explosive athleticism of his youth was never fully regained.

Watching McDyess in those later years was bittersweet. He was still a good player – even showing flashes of the old “Dice” brilliance on occasion – but we could only catch glimpses of what he once was . The once-explosive leaper now played below the rim, leaning on skill and experience rather than raw hops. And while he carved out a respectable lengthy career (15 seasons in the NBA) and remained, by all accounts, one of the most humble and beloved guys in the league, the superstar path that he had been on was gone forever. McDyess would never again average more than 9 points a game after his injury , a stark reminder of how swiftly fortune can turn in professional sports.

For many fans, Antonio McDyess became part of a tragic NBA fraternity – the “what if?” club. Just as we later saw with Penny Hardaway (whose Hall-of-Fame trajectory with the Orlando Magic was cut short by knee injuries in the late ’90s) or Derrick Rose (whose MVP ascent was halted by an ACL tear in 2012), McDyess’s story is one of unrealized potential. He was only 26 when his body betrayed him. We are left to imagine how high he might have soared, how many All-Star games he might have played in, or how he might have altered the balance of power in the league had he stayed healthy. Would Denver have built a contender around him? Would “Dice” have joined the pantheon of great power forwards of the 2000s? Those questions will never be answered, but the fact that we ask them at all is a testament to his talent.

In the end, Antonio McDyess’s career is remembered with a mix of admiration and melancholy. Admiration for the beast of a player he was before the injuries, and for the grace with which he handled the adversity that followed. Melancholy for the superstar we never fully got to see. As one longtime fan put it, McDyess was “as nice off the court as he was just plain nasty on the court” – a gentle soul with a ferocious game. He gave everything he had to the sport, and even when fate dealt him a cruel hand, he never lost his love for the game or his humility.

For younger or newer basketball fans who may not know his name, Antonio McDyess’s story serves as both an inspiration and a cautionary tale. At his peak, he was magnificent – a player with all the tools to be a perennial All-Star, a near-superstar whose every game was worth watching. And yet, he’s also a reminder of how fragile athletic greatness can be. One moment you’re flying high above the rim, the next moment it’s all gone. McDyess once brought limitless hope to a franchise and its fans, and though his journey took a heartbreaking turn, his early brilliance will never be forgotten.

In the echoes of those who saw him play, you’ll still hear it: Oh, what could have been . But let’s also remember what truly was – an extraordinary talent who, for a few shining years, gave us a glimpse of basketball heaven. Antonio McDyess was a star that burned bright, if only too briefly, and his rise and fall remain one of the NBA’s most poignant tales.

Sources:

Sledge Hammer! – A Cult Classic TV Show Ahead of Its Time

Introduction

“Sledge Hammer!” is a cult classic TV show that first aired in 1986 and ran for two seasons until 1988. It was a satirical take on the traditional cop show, which featured David Rasche in the lead role as Inspector Sledge Hammer, an exaggerated version of the stereotypical trigger-happy, tough-talking detective. The show was created by Alan Spencer, who was inspired by the over-the-top action films of the time like “Dirty Harry” and “Rambo”. Though “Sledge Hammer!” didn’t receive much attention when it first aired, it has since gained a cult following, and many fans now argue that the show was ahead of its time. In this blog post, we will explore why this cult classic deserves more recognition and how it was ahead of its time.

  1. A Satirical Take on Popular Cop Shows

“Sledge Hammer!” was a parody of popular cop shows of the time. The show’s humor often derived from the absurdity of the situations and the excessive use of force by the main character, Inspector Sledge Hammer. He was a caricature of the typical action hero, with his catchphrase “Trust me, I know what I’m doing” becoming a running joke throughout the series.

The show poked fun at various tropes from the cop show genre, such as the buddy cop dynamic, with Sledge’s partner, Dori Doreau, played by Anne-Marie Martin. Doreau was a competent and intelligent detective, often contrasting with Hammer’s reckless and impulsive approach. This dynamic provided a fresh perspective on the genre, which resonates even today as we continue to see similar partnerships in modern shows.

  1. Absurdism and Surrealism as Comedy

“Sledge Hammer!” also stood out for its unique blend of absurdism and surrealism. The show featured outlandish storylines and character interactions that were intentionally over-the-top, leading to a unique comedic experience. For instance, Sledge’s attachment to his gun was so intense that he would often sleep with it and even take it into the shower.

This comedic style was ahead of its time, as many shows that followed in later years, like “Arrested Development” and “Brooklyn Nine-Nine”, have incorporated similar elements of absurdity and surrealism into their humor.

  1. Social Commentary and Parody

Another aspect that made “Sledge Hammer!” ahead of its time was its subtle social commentary. The show often poked fun at prevalent social issues, such as gun control, police brutality, and sexism, all of which are still relevant today. By mocking these issues, “Sledge Hammer!” was able to raise awareness about them in an entertaining and accessible way, a feat that not many shows of the time were able to accomplish.

Conclusion

“Sledge Hammer!” was a cult classic TV show that deserves more recognition for its unique blend of satire, absurdism, and social commentary. Though it may not have been appreciated during its time on the air, the show was undoubtedly ahead of its time in many ways. Its fearless approach to parodying the cop show genre, incorporating absurd and surreal elements into its comedy, and providing subtle social commentary on pressing issues make “Sledge Hammer!” a must-watch for fans of cult classics and innovative television alike.

This blogpost was created with help from ChatGPT Pro.