Electronic Checklists

Jeff Katz’s post a couple of days ago stirred me to my first blog here because he touched on a problem I’m facing: Organization.

I’ve been collecting since 1958, have almost all the cards of the Topps era, (until 1994 anyway) and some earlier material. However, I had always kept them in a giant map case I’d bought at a former British naval base in Singapore. The depth of the drawers was perfect for a standard-sized card laid on its side. More problematic at this point, I had decided to keep them in alphabetical order, with all the Henry Aarons first and all the George Zuverinks last. Each players cards are kept in chronological order.

Now, I feel the need to reorganize them into sets and to insure I still have everything. Thus, I’ve been wondering about electronic checklists and thought I’d ask this group about their experiences and recommendations with the various products available. I’d like to know about

  1. ease of use
  2. whether it is cloud-based or can be downloaded to my hard drive
  3. whether the checklists are complete as to errors, variations and updates
  4. Whether they contain regional issues as well as Topps, Donruss, Bowman and other national issues
  5. Whether any contain checklists for minor league sets
  6. Are any flexible enough for me to draw out sub-lists, such as all Henry Aarons, or all NY Mets cards
  7. Do they offer the ability to record condition as well as whether I have a card.
  8. Do they contain pricing info, and is it regularly updated?
  9. Any other features or problems you are aware of.

Thanks in advance,

Andy McCue

Organized Baseball (cards)

I had two eye surgeries last week. Two! The retina in my right eye got detached, seemingly around 3 months ago, but I only noticed it a few weeks ago when the damage entered my field of vision. The surgeries were successful, but it’s going to take a while before I have improved vision in the eye.

While eye issues kept me from my weekly baseball cards blog post, they didn’t keep me from the cards themselves. I had some stuff to put away and I went fishing for doubles, triples, quadruples I could list on EBay. Though my vision was problematic, it didn’t deter me from easily retrieving what I needed. Why? Because I’m so friggin’ organized!

I’ve always been pro-long box. They are the most effective, and efficient, way to store cards. They also are best because I can access the cards. If you haven’t read Mark Armour’s “Death of a Museum” post, do so. It hits me right where I live. I love to handle my cards and pulling them out of boxes is a real pleasure.

img_2335

The only downside to my system is that I have used and reused the same boxes. They’re all labelled, but some are labelled on both ends. I thought I had averted mass confusion, but it took my three weeks to find some old football doubles and I was driven to near madness. Turns out I had them filed under 1992 baseball. Still, I was organized enough to realize (eventually) how I could track them down.

Some sets are still in their original boxes, if need be. I have pulled some sets out when their initial resting place bugged me. 1980’s Donruss came in the worst boxes, flaps folded inside the box. That always struck me as corner dinging by design.

img_2337

I use albums and sleeves on occasion. Mostly it’s for oversized cards that won’t fit into regular size boxes. A few “normal” card sets are in sheets. I have no criteria for what makes it to an album enshrinement, but some do. It’s not nearly so satisfying to thumb through Ultra Pro sleeves as it is to have a handful of cards, but it does make it easier to show them to others who may not be as sensitive to handling other people’s stuff.

img_2336

I have a close friend who is also a collector and, to be kind, less organized. It leads him to worry that when he kicks the bucket, his cards will find their way to the dumpster. I’ve offered my services for when his demise comes. Still, it would behoove him, and all, to get their card houses in order. If you won’t do it for yourself, at least do it for your family!

 

Note: I am immensely curious how people keep their cards and how they enjoy them. Feel free to drop a comment on that.

 

Death of a Museum

caseclosedFor Christmas in 1968, my grandmother gave 8-year-old me a green plastic baseball card “locker” to hold my growing collection. There were “slots” for each of the 24 teams, the American League alphabetical on the left, the National League on the right. To this day, if you ask me to list the major league teams I will recite them in the order I learned from this locker: Baltimore, Boston, California (now LA), Chicago, etc. Assuming I remember to add the newer expansion teams at the end, it takes me 20 seconds, tops.

Truth be told, this locker could not really hold my collection, which already required a few shoe boxes. Instead, each team’s slot held the most recent cards I had of everyone on the current roster. If I got a 1968 Willie Mays card, I would place it in the Giants’ slot, removing the 1967 Willie Mays card (if I had it). When the Red Sox made a 10-team deal with the Brewers in 1971, I transferred each of these players, so that George Scott could immediately join his new mates in Milwaukee. When the Yankees released Johnny Callison in 1973, he was moved into a shoe box until he got another job.

I did not have to wait for a newspaper to tell me what the new Red Sox lineup might look like–the cards in my locker were completely up-to-date, and I could immediately use them to envision Tommy Harper in left field, and Marty Pattin as the number 2 starter. I could do this in June, and I could do this in January. Baseball cards were a useful (and awesome) tool for obsessing about baseball 365 days a year. This locker was a fixture in my house until I went away to college.

s-l1600During the 1980s, as the card market was booming and I was becoming an adult, I went along with the growing trend of putting cards in plastic sleeves, nine to a page, sets stored numerically in thick three-inch binders. And not just for old cards–you could buy a brand new set of Topps, Fleer, or Donruss, and within minutes, barely touched by human hands, all your cards could be preserved in pristine plastic. Perfect condition, someday I will be rich! What more could you ask for?

s-l1600-1Soon more products were available to keep you from ever touching your cards. For my old Jackie Robinson and Ted Williams cards, plastic sheets would simply not do. No, they needed thick plastic screw cases. Every card worth more than $50, no better make it $10, got its own screw case. And keep your paws off of them, by the way. I might need a safety deposit box.

By the early 1990s I was no longer buying new cards, and my older cards were all properly sealed, safe from all humans (or oxygen). Like the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, they were to admired from a distance, no flash photography please. For the next 20 years I occasionally added to my collection of 1950s and 1960s cards, filling those empty sleeves in my notebooks, completing long ago sets. A few cards would come in the mail, I would pull the correct notebook down from the shelf, insert each of the cards into their proper place (or into a screw case), and then put the notebook back on the shelf for another month or two. It was … kinda fun?

caseopenSeveral years ago I was on eBay and I saw that old card locker for sale and, I gotta be honest, it called to me. As my childhood version was long gone, I made the purchase and the locker showed up at my house a week later. On another whim, I took my 1969 set out of its notebook, sorted the cards by teams, and placed them in the locker. And what do you know, I discovered that I was riffing through these cards every evening, revisiting the season.

I will now spare you the gory details and bring you up to the present.

My screw cases are all gone. Thankfully, I avoided (and continue to avoid) the grading services that have blighted the hobby, so I didn’t have to worry about taking apart their ugly slabs. My plastic notebooks filled with plastic sleeves? Gone.

My lone concession to “taking care” of my cards is that every one of them (pre-1980) is in its own thin plastic “penny” sleeve, but otherwise all of them can be held and “played with” just as they were when I was a child. My cards are all in cardboard boxes, sorted by year, and can be arranged into lineups, or culled for Hall of Famers, or sorted alphabetically, or arranged by height. My maintenance is democratic–the 1952 Jackie Robinson and the 1975 Bob Heise are accorded the same level of protection.

img_0851Pictured to the left is the cardboard box I use to hold my 1969, 1970, and 1971 sets. At the moment they are sorted into teams, though that might change tomorrow. I could instead arrange my 1969 cards based on each team’s actual Opening Day roster, and use them to imagine the season ahead. I don’t think this Mets lineup is going to hit, but the Seattle Pilots sure look good, don’t they?

One important point. My cards are in great condition and well taken care of. I am not bending, folding, scuffing the edges. My 1957 Mickey Mantle, in Near Mint condition 25 years ago in its screw case, is in Near Mint condition today in its thin plastic sleeve, only now the Mick is filed with Bobby Richardson and Hank Bauer, where I think he would want to be and was meant to me.

My museum is dead, but my cards have never been more alive. Cards were meant for kids, and I shall never forget that again.