When I first started collecting, the conventional wisdom was that getting autographs on your cards lessened their value. Not sure why this was the prevailing view – maybe the thought was that it would be too easy to counterfeit. Anyway, card manufacturers began to create autographed cards and no one thinks they detract from the card any more. On the back of this John Maine card is the following:
The signing of all autographs is witnessed by Topps representatives to guarantee authenticity.
There are a million ways to collect and for the most part, my collection revolves around complete sets. But I also have a T-206 card and there’s no way my grubby hands will ever finish that one. But whenever I look at my T-206 – the pink Hal Chase – I think of my friend Marshall, who collected them and who was my inspiration for getting it.
My card collection started out as a combo effort with my brother Gary, jump started with hand-me-downs from my other brothers and their friends. Mom threw out the cards from my oldest brother, perhaps the only thing she ever admitted to doing wrong. So, there’s that.
Anyway, I haven’t seen Gary in years. There’s no bad blood or anything like that. It’s just that he lives in Florida and our paths just don’t cross. But whenever I look at those 1970-75 cards, I always think of him and us collecting together. Trading with the Wright brothers, participating in card dumps by John Belnavis, who would buy a bunch of cards and throw them out his window, getting entertainment from watching the kids fight to grab the pieces of cardboard. And the mini-conventions in our room, when Gary would have a few of his friends from school come over with their collections and we would do swaps.
When I look at my sets from the 1960s, started with Gary but completed by me in the 1990s, I think about my buddy Sarge, who I would go to card shows with in Massachusetts and we would do mail orders together. Recently I came across a receipt from one of those mail purchases. The big item was a 1957 Mickey Mantle in EX-MT condition for $350. Can’t get one like that today for that price.
Don’t have anyone like Gary or Sarge to both collect with and share collecting stories with today. The closest is my daughter Casey, who’s been to a couple of card shows with me and who sees my delight when I get packages in the mail. But it’s not quite the same.
It would be nice to have that connectedness with someone again. But now, it has to be on a much-smaller scale, like with the T-206 and Marshall. This Maine autograph card came in the mail as a complete surprise from a reader. It’s not the first time this has happened but it was probably the least-expected. It’s not going to start me chasing autographs – Bob Gibson ruined that for me – but it will be in a special sub-section of my collection, with that Chase card.
Consider this post a thank you to everyone who has ever contributed to my collection.
Out of all her inventions, I like J.K. Rowling’s concept of the “portney” best of all. An object that transports one through time and space.
Music, for me, is the best portkey. I hear an album and suddenly I’m back in a friend’s room — we are rolling joints or just sitting around shooting the sh*t — and I’m 13 years old again. Different albums call forth different, specific memories. Sometimes of people who are no longer with us.
Baseball cards, too, have some of that mystical, conjuring power.
I look at that card and can’t help but remember that I was in the stands for that famous playoff game in 2006 when Paul Lo Duca tagged out two Dodgers at home on the same 1st-inning play. John Maine started that one, Game 1 of the NLDS; Guillermo Mota got the BS and the W (which has never seemed right); and a very shaky Billy Wagner closed it out.
Note: Wagner’s brutal 2006 NLCS contributed mightily to the Mets inability to reach the WS (which they would have won). In 3 games, he went 2.2 IP, 7 hits, 5 ER, 16.88 ERA. Minaya built some strong teams. Nice stretch of 83-97-88-89 wins. These days, that’s three playoff appearances.
Delgado went 4-5 that day. And somebody, somewhere, is probably still upset about the all the amazing prospects we gave up to get him.