Nostalgia..1, Me..0
| 15
|
Take a trip down memory lane with me. Remember back to your pre-teen years when you and your friends got together at a buddy's house and did nothing else for six hours but trade baseball cards. Remember when that was cool?
I don't know how many times I made my parents buy me a Beckett. I don't know how many times I traded two Frank Thomas' for one Ken Griffey Jr. I don't know how many packs of Score baseball cards I bought. The point is that collecting and trading baseball cards have endured as one of the most profound memories of my childhood. And it's because baseball cards were fun. It was fun to unwrap a pack of cards and see how many guys you knew. (It was equally disappointing when you realized how many guys you had never heard of.) It was fun to collect as many cards of your favorite player or team as humanly possible. It was fun to see how many times you could rip your friends off in trades. (This is where a Beckett came in handy.) The mystique of baseball card collecting was addicting.
Sadly, I haven't collected baseball cards since my childhood, some 10-15 years ago now. It's not that I haven't wanted to. It's that my money has had to go toward other things like bills and books for college and work clothes and gifts for my wife. Plus, who would I trade with now? Whose house could I go to and hang out with five other buddies and do nothing but trade cards all day? Nobody does it anymore. Sure, card dealers still collect and trade, but what fun would it be to deal with someone who knows more about baseball cards than you know about yourself?
Anyways, my wife and I went to the mall several days ago to buy our niece her birthday gifts. Much to my delight, there was a card show going on. Table after table of baseball cards, autographs, memorbilia and the like. I always get sucked in by the aforementioned "mystique." I always take time to browse the offerings of each and every table paying particular attention to the selection of Ken Griffey Jr. stuff. But I never buy, because I realize that my card collecting days have come and gone.
But this day was different. I still took the time to browse. But I made the mistake of checking to see how much cash I had in my wallet. I had only $7, but it was enough to splurge on a few cards, right? After narrowing my options to one specific table and one specific section of Griffey cards, I caved and asked the card dealer: "How much for this card here?" The card I pointed out was a 1990 Upper Deck Ken Griffey Jr. card - his second year card. His response: "Everything in this box is $0.25."
$0.25?!?!?! For any and all Griffey's in the box?!?! After parading through this particular dealer's selection of Griffey's with a fine tooth comb, I settled on 11 - that's right, 11! - Griffey's to add to my childhood collection. The best part is that he only charged me $2 total for all 11 cards. Anyone who knows something about card collecting knows that Jr.'s 1990 Upper Deck card is worth more than a quarter. In fact, all of the cards that I walked away from that table with were worth more than a quarter. I'd estimate that, for my $2, I ended up with $20-$30 worth of cards.
I didn't stop there, though. The flood gates had been opened. With my remaining $5, I decided to invest in the rookie card of the next great Major League superstar. My remaining $5 went towards the purchase of a Topps Chrome Jacoby Ellsbury rookie card.
So, in the end, I shelled out $7 for 11 cards of the greatest player of my lifetime and one rookie card of the guy who could eventually steal that title away. But the best thing I bought for my $7 was a piece of my childhood. There is no doubting that, on this day, nostalgia won.
[Note: I had difficulities submitting this article the first time around. I apologize if this is a duplicate.]
