Updated for current market trends (January 2026).<\/span><\/p>\n Saturday morning cartoons were as much a part of my childhood as playing in the streets with the neighborhood kids or getting a hug from my mom. Sitting cross-legged in front of a bulky console TV, watching <\/span>Scooby-Doo<\/span><\/i> or <\/span>Speed Racer<\/span><\/i>, still fills me with nostalgia\u2014a reminder of a time when everything felt simpler and wonderfully predictable. It was as reliable as fighting with my brother or pulling a small plastic toy from a box of Super Sugar Crisps.<\/span><\/p>\n For kids of that era, Saturday morning followed a familiar rhythm: a bowl of cereal, a few precious hours of cartoons, and then the inevitable push out the door to play outside. But those wonderful and wacky shows\u2014packed with sea monsters, flying anvils, and perfectly predictable plots\u2014were more than entertainment. They were the centerpiece of a carefully constructed marketing machine. Take a moment and think about just how many ways kids were marketed to in the 1970s.<\/span><\/p>\n A nickel dropped into a gumball machine might produce a <\/span>Scooby-Doo<\/span><\/i> ring or pencil topper. Department stores carried <\/span>Scooby-Doo<\/span><\/i> View-Master reels, lunchboxes, and even LP records. Card games like <\/span>Old Maid<\/span><\/i> and <\/span>War<\/span><\/i> featured familiar cartoon faces. But one of the most enduring pieces of that marketing plan sat on the spinner rack of nearly every drugstore: the comic book. Virtually every major cartoon from the mid-1960s through the early 1980s had a comic book counterpart.<\/span><\/p>\n These licensing deals shifted between comic publishers, sometimes resulting in the same property appearing from two different companies at the same time. Decades later, those disposable-feeling cartoon comics have become surprisingly valuable. Because kids loved these characters, the comics were read, folded, traded, and loved to death\u2014making high-grade copies exceptionally scarce today. Add nostalgia, limited survival rates, and occasional short print runs, and you get a powerful collecting category.<\/span><\/p>\n Studying the most expensive Saturday morning cartoon\u2013related comic books of the 1970s reveals a few clear patterns. While nostalgia plays a role across the board, the books that rise to the top tend to fall into just a handful of repeatable categories. These patterns explain why certain cartoon comics became Bronze Age standouts\u2014while others, just as beloved, never quite made the jump.<\/span><\/p>\n Dog-centric cartoons consistently outperform expectations because they tap directly into childhood emotion. Characters like Scooby-Doo, Underdog, and Hong Kong Phooey weren\u2019t just mascots\u2014they were heroes, companions, and sources of comfort. Kids didn\u2019t just watch them; they bonded with them.<\/span><\/p>\n Scooby-Doo, <\/span>Where Are You!<\/span><\/i> is the undisputed apex predator of the Bronze Age cartoon comics market. No other property comes close. Scooby wasn\u2019t simply popular\u2014he became a generational constant, endlessly reintroduced through reruns, spinoffs, and reinvention. That emotional connection meant the comics were read relentlessly, leaving very few high-grade survivors today.<\/span><\/p>\n Even secondary dog characters benefited from this dynamic. Muttley, from <\/span>Wacky Races<\/span><\/i> and <\/span>Dastardly & Muttley in Their Flying Machines<\/span><\/i>, often played the role of reluctant hero, subtly aligning himself with the audience. Hanna-Barbera recognized the power of this formula and copied it repeatedly, creating Scooby-style mystery shows like <\/span>Goober and the Ghost Chasers<\/span><\/i> and <\/span>The Funky Phantom<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n In an era when many cartoons lasted only 13\u201316 episodes, a handful of shows became true content juggernauts. These long-running series had years\u2014not weeks\u2014to embed themselves into childhood routines, giving them a massive visibility advantage.<\/span><\/p>\n The <\/span>Flintstones<\/span><\/i> are the ultimate example. Beginning in 1960 and running for 166 episodes, the series didn\u2019t just survive into the Bronze Age\u2014it blanketed it. Spinoffs like <\/span>The Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm Show<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>The Flintstone Comedy Hour<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>Fred Flintstone and Friends<\/span><\/i>, and <\/span>The New Fred and Barney Show<\/span><\/i> ensured the characters never left Saturday mornings. That same saturation carried over to the spinner rack, where Flintstones comics appeared across multiple publishers and formats throughout the 1970s.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Some properties defy both episode count and mascot logic because they never truly disappear. Instead of relying on longevity in the 1970s, these franchises stay relevant through constant reintroduction to new audiences.<\/span><\/p>\n Sabrina the Teenage Witch<\/span><\/i> is a perfect example. While her comic presence during the Bronze Age was relatively brief, her television footprint exploded decades later. From <\/span>Sabrina the Teenage Witch<\/span><\/i> (1996\u20132003) to <\/span>Sabrina: Secrets of a Teenage Witch<\/span><\/i> (2013) and <\/span>Chilling Adventures of Sabrina<\/span><\/i> (2018\u20132020), the character has been continually refreshed. That sustained visibility retroactively fuels demand for her early comics.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Some Saturday morning shows don\u2019t fit neatly into any collecting model because they were never normal to begin with. A small group of late-1960s and early-1970s programs embraced surreal visuals, experimental storytelling, and outright strangeness\u2014and their comics behave differently as a result.<\/span><\/p>\n Productions by Sid and Marty Krofft sit at the center of this category, occupying their own strange corner of pop culture. Krofft shows feel less like traditional cartoons and more like fever dreams: giant foam costumes, psychedelic sets, and fantasy logic that barely obeyed narrative rules. These weren\u2019t just children\u2019s shows\u2014they were experiences. Let\u2019s play a game: hallucination or actual Saturday-morning television? A boy with a talking golden flute named Freddy runs toward a living, psychedelic ship owned by a kooky witch named Witchiepoo, only to be rescued by a foam-filled, giant-headed mayor called H.R. Pufnstuf. Absurd as it sounds, every part of that sentence is real.<\/span><\/p>\n While most of the best examples came from the Kroffts, this sensibility wasn\u2019t exclusive to them. <\/span>The Banana Splits<\/span><\/i>\u2014produced by Hanna-Barbera rather than the Kroffts\u2014shared the same psychedelic DNA. Live-action hosts in animal costumes, music segments, absurd skits, and a loosely structured format placed it firmly in the same experimental lane, even if it came from a more traditional animation studio.<\/span><\/p>\n That combination\u2014short runs, unconventional visuals, and lingering \u201cwhat was I watching?\u201d curiosity\u2014keeps Krofft-related comics firmly in a category of their own.<\/span><\/p>\n H<\/span>.<\/span><\/a>R. Pufnstuf #1<\/a> (1970 Gold Key) \u2013 $104 in 9.4 raw \u00a0<\/p>\nSo, what actually drives value?<\/b><\/h3>\n
Dog-Led Shows Were 1970s Gold<\/b><\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/blog.comicspriceguide.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Scooby-Doo-1.jpg?resize=199%2C300&ssl=1\")
Scooby-Doo, Where Are You #1 (1970 Gold Key) \u2013 $4500 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Underdog #1 (1970 Charlton) \u2013 $500 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Hong Kong Phooey #1 (1975 Charlton) \u2013 $200 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Scooby-Doo #1 (1975 Charlton) \u2013 $175 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Underdog #1 (1975 Gold Key) \u2013 $120 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Scooby-Doo #1 (1977 Marvel) \u2013 $100 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Fun-In #1 (1970 Gold Key) \u2013 $100 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Wacky Races #1 (1969 Gold Key) \u2013 $90 in 9.4 raw<\/span><\/p>\nHigh-Episode Shows (80+ Episodes)<\/b><\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/blog.comicspriceguide.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Fat-Albert-1.jpg?resize=203%2C300&ssl=1\")
Other long-running shows followed a similar pattern: more episodes meant more exposure, stronger brand recognition, and a higher chance that kids encountered\u2014and consumed\u2014the comics repeatedly.<\/span>
<\/span>
<\/span>Pink Panther #1<\/a> (1971 Gold Key) \u2013 $300 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Battle of the Planets #1<\/a> (1979 Gold Key) \u2013 $135 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Fat Albert #1<\/a> (1974 Gold Key) \u2013 $100 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Super Friends #1<\/a> (1976 DC) \u2013 $100 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>Flintstones #1<\/a> (1970 Charlton) \u2013 $90 in 9.4 raw<\/span><\/p>\nShort-Lived Cartoons with Long-Term Screen Support<\/b><\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/blog.comicspriceguide.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Addams-Family-1.jpg?resize=199%2C300&ssl=1\")
In these cases, <\/span>relevance replaces nostalgia<\/b>. Collectors aren\u2019t just buying childhood memories\u2014they\u2019re buying characters that still feel culturally alive.<\/span>
<\/span>
<\/span>Sabrina the Teenage Witch #1<\/a> (1971 Archie) \u2013 $400 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>She\u2019s Josie #45<\/a> (1969 Archie) \u2013 $245 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>The Addams Family #1<\/a> (1974 Gold Key) \u2013 $160 in 9.4 raw<\/span>
<\/span>The Jetsons #1<\/a> (1970 Charlton) \u2013 $90 in 9.4 raw<\/span><\/p>\nPsychedelic & Experimental Saturday Morning Television<\/b><\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/blog.comicspriceguide.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Screenshot-2026-01-07-162742.png?resize=205%2C300&ssl=1\")
As adults, many collectors return to these shows with a mix of fascination and disbelief, trying to reconcile what they remember with what they\u2019re seeing. That strangeness creates a different kind of demand. These comics aren\u2019t prized because kids read them endlessly; they\u2019re valued because they\u2019re cultural oddities that survived at all. Short runs, unconventional visuals, and lingering \u201cwhat was I watching?\u201d curiosity attract cult followings rather than mainstream nostalgia buyers.<\/span><\/p>\n
<\/span>The Banana Splits #1<\/a> (1969 Gold Key) \u2013 $100 in 9.4 raw<\/span><\/p>\n