I am way too reluctant to even think about selling games when I’m done with them. “Maybe I’ll loan them to my friends,” I think. This may be true for the first six months or even a year or two after the game’s release, but after that.
it becomes highly unlikely—nobody will be calling me up this year to ask if they can borrow my copy of 2004’s Call of Duty: Finest Hour or 2002’s Hitman 2: Silent Assassin for PS2. There are people out there who want to play these games, but I don’t know them, so they’re only going to find my games if I put them on the market. Nor am I going to fire Black Ops II or Advance Warfare back up any time soon. They were good enough games at the time, but they don’t have for me the kind of nostalgia or replay value to overcome their aging mechanics and graphics a dozen years later.
So why are these games taking up precious shelf space in my still-overcrowded apartment? Because I treat my video game library like I treat my fridge. When I open my fridge, there are always several things in there that I know I am never going to eat, but because they are still technically edible, I don’t throw them away. Instead, I wait until they go bad and only then do I throw them out. Meanwhile, they take up room in my fridge and develop terrible fuzzy qualities. My game library works the same way. I keep games around that I could, conceivably, go back and finish or replay, while knowing deep down the fantastic unlikelihood of that ever happening. Meanwhile, their sale value decreases (some games get more valuable, but these are not the games I’m dithering over in this way).
For instance, while writing this post, I decided to go through my game library and pick out the games I know I will never play. Here’s what I came up with: Batman Arkham Knight, Bloodbourne, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare and Call of Duty Infinite, Halo: Master Chief Collection and Fallout 4. Not bad, right? I could start to sell games, and clear a little space, and make a few dollars. I knew I needed to dig deeper, so I did a second run through my library, and added to the list God of War, Halo 4, Plants Vs Zombies, and at least one of my wife’s old Harvest Moon games that she’s decided she won’t replay. (I did ask her before putting one in the pile. I wish to stay married.) This clears more space and adds a few more bucks to my pocket.
But I still wasn’t being completely honest with myself, so I did a third run of games, adding some that I’m quite fond of or that aren’t old enough to have “gone bad” according to my fridge rule (or that I think someone might want to borrow, someday), but that I know I’m not going to replay: Dead Space 2 and Half-life (I’ve played both twice already), Crazy Taxi, Resident Evil 6, Assassin’s Creed: Unity, Battlefield: Hardline, Call of Duty: Black Ops II , and an extra copy of Red Dead Redemption GOY edition I got as a gift. It was in this third run that the amount of money I could make selling these games jumped from a handful of cash to over thirty bucks definitely enough to buy at least one good used game to replace the twenty—twenty!—games I had cluttering up my shelf that I was never going to play, and whose value was depreciating as I procrastinated.
So if you’re like me, I encourage you to join me in taking a hard look at your video game library as if it was your fridge, choose the games you know you’ll never replay, and sell them before they “go bad.” It’s a very liberating feeling, and it can’t hurt to clear some room on your shelf and pad your wallet at the same time! So go on – what games have you been holding onto that it’s time to let go and sell?
If you name yourself ‘Zelda’ instead of ‘Link’ in ‘The Legend Of Zelda’, you will be able to skip the first quest entirely.