Trading – SABR's Baseball Cards Research Committee

Images as Currency

Before I joined SABR I had a post on my own blog which looked at baseball cards and the role they played in developing my visual literacy. Over the past year of watching various Zoom presentations with my kids about the history of cards I’ve found myself realizing that I need to write a similar post about the way baseball cards also track the way that we, as humans developed visual literacy.

Baseball and baseball cards sort of eerily parallel the development and evolution of photography with a number of rough steps starting around the Civil War before finally coalescing in the late 19th Century around something that’s not changed much over the last 125 years. The thing though is that baseball cards are but a thin sliver of this development.

The hobby has a tendency to talk about cards and collecting as if they evolved as part of baseball history. I get it; we collect cards and aren’t photo historians. But I think it’s important to understand how, if anything, cards basically came along for the ride and that their history is less a history of baseball but a lesson on how we learned to use photographs and changed our relationship with celebrity.

A couple years ago I read Darcy Grimaldo Grigsby’s Enduring Truths. It’s a great book about Sojourner Truth and how she supported herself in part by selling cartes de visite. I went into the book expecting history about photographs and what they depict, and how they interact with issues of race, power, and privilege. Instead I came out with an appreciation of how printed images function within our society.

For most of human history, portraits were only accessible to the wealthy. You had to pay an extremely skilled artist to paint you and you only got one piece out of it. With the advent of photography in the mid-19th century things got a lot more accessible. Tintypes and ambrotypes were affordable* to a much wider range of people. However they are still one-off pieces. The negative itself is treated in such a way that it becomes a positive** and there is no way to make prints.

*25¢ to $2.50 during the Civil War years. So not cheap but something many soldiers or freedmen were able to acquire.

**Watching one develop is as close to seeing real magic as anyone could ever hope to see.

The next step, making prints from negatives,* opened up the age of photography as we truly know it. Rather than an image being a singular piece, prints could be made and disseminated all over the world. These quickly became cartes de visite and, later, cabinet cards. Cartes de visite are literally visiting cards but took off as soon as they began to be used as celebrity—at first royal—portaits. the resulting phenomena became known as cartomania and became a serious thing both abroad and in the United States.

*In this case albumen prints from glass negatives.

Coming back to Sojourner Truth, not only were people collecting cards, notable people like Truth were producing them for sale as well, modifying them to not only be photographs but to include messages.* Card making and collecting is not only a hobby but a business that can support people whose images are in demand.

*In Truth’s case “I sell the shadow to support the substance”

Grigsby points out that in parallel with cartomania, autograph collecting also saw a massive surge in interest during the Victorian Era as the idea of collecting expanded to include all manner of people. She also makes an amazing connection to the rise of printed, national currency following the National Bank Act and how said currency is also heavily image based. The rise of postal systems and stamps starting from 1840 to the point where we had to create an international standard in 1874 is also worth mentioning here. Stamps were immediately collected and are another way that images became currency.

Cartes de visite, stamps, autographs, etc all ended up being stored in albums and shown to visitors in ways that are shockingly familiar to any of us card collectors today. We have pages that are frequently better for preservation but both the concept and practice of the card binder emerged hand in hand with the cards themselves.

It’s impossible for me to look at sets like Old Judge or Goodwin & Company outside the collecting world which existed in this era. When images are currency and the idea of celebrity culture and “set” collection has taken such a strong hold, it’s no surprise that companies started to create cards of their own.

These are photos—cabinet cards actually—which were printed for commercial instead of personal reasons. They depict all kinds of athletes as well as actors, actresses, and other famous people. Yes they’re promotional items. But they clearly were intended to be collected and traded in the same way as the individually-produced cards were.

Cards and photography usage only begins to diverge a bit in the late 19th century when cabinet cards began to die out due to the emergence of amateur photography. At this point other forms of printed images took up the torch since cards and card collecting were firmly entrenched. Manufacturers like Allen & Ginter in the US (and many others abroad) created sports sets including baseball players, billiards shooters, boxers, and pedestrians and non-sports sets depicting animals, flowers, flags, etc. There was plenty of stuff to choose from; if you could imagine a collection there’s a decent chance there’s a set of it out there.*

*Up until World War 2 the world of trading cards was massive and wonderfully varied. This represents over eight decades of card collecting. I’ve been grabbing “pre-war”sets which cover whatever subject matter strikes my interest—from Hollywood to science to travel because they represent how cards became an affordable way to create your own wunderkammer.

One of the things I love most in this hobby is how it remains a direct connection to the way we originally used photographs. Yes I love baseball. But I also love photography and being able to experience how the the world of cartomania still survives today is fantastic.

It’s why I love the non-sport elements of the modern Ginter sets. It’s why things like exhibit cards fascinate me. It’s why I enjoy Jay Publishing, team-issued postcards, and other card-related photopacks which are aren’t necessarily cards. I can see all these different directions that the hobby could have gone in. Different ways of designing sets and releasing cards. Different concepts of who is worth depicting.

It all reaches back to the 19th century when we realized how images are currency. Something people are willing to purchase and save and trade. The history of card collecting depicts baseball. But it embodies how we learned to see and how we learned to use images.

50 years ago today…

During the 1960’s and 1970’s, through-the-mail communication was an invaluable resource for collectors. So much so that publications like Marshall Oreck’s The Collector’s Directory and Irv Lerner’s Who’s Who in Card Collecting were compiled to help everyone connect. And connect they did. But it was in 1969 that something happened to change the course of hobby history — a gathering of multiple sports collectors in one place, at one time finally became a viable concept. That year, small gatherings or “conventions” of around a dozen collectors started popping up around the country and were documented in hobby periodicals of the day.

23 year-old Mike Aronstein’s listing in Marshall Oreck’s 1963 The Collector’s Directory and Irv Lerner’s 1970 edition of Who’s Who in Card Collecting.

My father, Michael P. Aronstein, hosted his own “convention” at the Aronstein family home on March 15, 1970 — 50 years ago today. For some perspective, I asked hobby historian David Kathman (trdcrdkid on Net54) to provide his thoughts regarding the occasion:

“Your dad’s March 15, 1970 ‘convention’ wasn’t the first such hobby convention, but it was the largest one up to that point (with 19 attendees), the first one in New York state, and the second one on the east coast (after a 9-person gathering at Mike Anderson’s house in South Weymouth in early December 1969)… but your dad’s 1970 convention is rightly considered a landmark because of the people who were there, several of whom became very influential in the hobby, and the fact that it was the first in the New York area.”

There’s quite a bit of info out there regarding the hobby pioneers who attended so I won’t delve too much into their individual stories here. I do encourage you to research them on your own, however. They’ve all got unique stories and -as is the case with most things in our hobby- you’ll be taken down a rabbit hole that goes off in a million different interesting directions.

Here’s a postcard from hobby pioneer Crawford Foxwell to my father confirming he’d be attending the convention along with Tom Collier. Keep in mind Tom Collier was the “TC” in TCMA but they didn’t partner up until 1972. Third image is a wire photo depicting Foxwell with his collection in 1975.

Photos taken by my father on March 15, 1970 during the convention at his home. Note my sister, Melina with the “Welcome Collectors” sign (we’re still eight years pre-Andrew here). Now see if you can spot the uncut sheet of 1970 Topps hidden in there somewhere.

All collectors in attendance signed several 8 1/2 x 11 uncut 1968 SCFC (Sports Cards for Collectors) sheets. Good luck tracking down one of these in the wild! A full list of the names are below along with where they traveled to the convention from.

SIX of these men (that I know of) either owned a T206 Honus Wagner at the time or would shortly after the event. I’ve placed an asterisk next to their names. Bill Haber actually brought his Wagner to the convention. Also worth noting -among many other deals struck that day- a T206 “Magie” error changed hands from Dennis Graye to Bill Mastro.

Bill Haber* – Brooklyn, NY
Crawford Foxwell – Cambridge, MD
Bill Zekus – Elmsford, NY
Dave Zemsky – Bronx, NY
Nate Cohen – New York, NY
Tom Dischley – New York, NY
Dennis Graye – Detroit, MI
Mike Jaspersen – Rosemont, PA
Fred McKie* – Fairleigh Dickinson University
Bruce Yeko – New York, NY
Irv Lerner* – Philadelphia, PA
Dan Dischley – Lake Ronkonkoma, NY
Mike Aronstein* – Yorktown Heights, NY
Bob Jaspersen – Rosemont, PA
Bill Mastro* – Bernardsville, NJ
Tom Collier* – Easton, MD
Bill Himmelman – Norwood, NJ
Jim MacAllister – Philadelphia, PA
Myron S. Aronstein – Mount Vernon, NY

With Dan Dischley and Bob Jaspersen attending, of course this convention received coverage in their hobby publications The Trader Speaks and Sport Fan respectively.

See the young man sporting blue in the photos above? That’s Mike Jaspersen. Heres his “Stealth Extremely Short Print” card from 2017 Topps Allen & Ginter. “Mike attended his sports card show in 1970.” Yes, he did and we’ve got proof!

Following the 1970 convention at his home, Dad attended a similar gathering at Crawford Foxwell’s place in 1971, known as the Mid-Atlantic Sports Collectors Convention. I call this his “super-villain” shot because, well, you be the judge.

Dad then attended the 1972 Midwest Sports Collectors Convention in Detroit and also founded TCMA with Tom Collier that year. In 1973 he went on to help plan and host the ASCCA (American Sports Card Collectors Association) shows in NYC with Bruce Yeko and brothers Bob and Paul Gallagher.

The first of many ASCCA shows was held May, 25-27 1973 at the District 65 Center at 13 Astor Place in Manhattan. Great images from this event were posted by Sports Collectors Daily in 2018 and can be found here. It was also chronicled by Keith Olbermann in the very first issue of Sports Collectors Digest, dated October 12, 1973. 6 of the 19 people at the March 15, 1970 convention are also depicted in the SCD photos below.

Fred McKie, Mike Aronstein & Frank Nagy at the 1972 Midwest Sports Collectors Convention.

Keith Olbermann article from October 12, 1973 issue of Sports Collectors Digest.

Who doesn’t love free buttons? An ASCCA show staple.

Where the hobby will be 50 years from now is anyone’s guess. A LOT has happened since those 19 guys got together in 1970. What we do know right now is that the hobby is booming — let’s keep that up! Dad and I hope to see you all in Baltimore for #SABR50 this summer and Atlantic City for the National. Feel free to say hi and let’s talk hobby history. Cheers!

That’s us! 1990-ish at a local field in Yorktown Heights, NY and 2016 in Cooperstown.

Special thanks to hobby historian David Kathman (trdcrdkid on Net54) for his valuable insight and for providing the scans above.

A Trip Down Trader Lane

Mark Armour (the “Founding Father” of our illustrious committee) and I recently consummated a transaction in which we exchanged autographed 8” x 10” photos. “Trader Mark” sent George “Boomer” Scott my way in exchange for Lou Brock. Although this trade may seem to be in the same vain as Brock for Broglio, we both had two autographed photos of the players in the trade. Mark tried to get Brock for Lee Stange, but I held out for more.

Acquiring the Scott photo reminded me of the blockbuster deal that sent “Boomer” to the Brewers from the Red Sox before the 1972 season. Seattle Pilots General Manager, Marvin Milkes, accompanied the club to Milwaukee in 1970. He was dismissed after the season and surprisingly replaced by the legendary Frank “Trader” Lane, who lived up to his nickname.

In the 1950s, Lane was known for his multi-player trades which often seemed to be done just to shake things up. Thus, Lane decided to shed some of the last vestiges of the Pilots to remake the “Brew Crew.”

The trade involved nine major league players and one minor leaguer. The Red Sox sent Scott, Ken Brett, Joe Lahoud, Dan Pavletich, Billy Conigliaro, and Jim Lonborg to the Brewers in return for Tommy Harper, Marty Pattin, Lew Krausse and AAA player Patrick Skrable.

In the 1972 card set, Topps responded to the deal in two ways: upturned head shots and airbrushed logos. Apparently, Topps had a stash of Red Sox photos featuring players looking skyward. Only Jim Lonborg received an airbrushed Brewers cap. On the other hand, the three players sent to Boston have airbrushed cap insignia.

The crack airbrush team at Topps did an excellent job on Marty Pattin. His cap is either navy blue or black with the Boston “B” rendered expertly. Of course, you must ignore the royal blue seats at Tempe Diablo Stadium in the background.

Tommy Harper’s photo, taken at Tiger Stadium, is less convincing. The powder blue uniform and cap just don’t scream Bosox.

Lew Krausse has some strange stuff going on around his collar. Odds are, he had on a Pilots/Brewers warm up jacket with gold piping. Thus, he gets a blue and grey combo to cover up the gold.

Though his 1967 season is immortalized in the hearts and minds of all Red Sox fans, Jim Lonborg’s 1972 card will not be remember as fondly. The sideways turn of the head complicated the formation of the “M” logo. One “leg” appears shorter than the other.

As mentioned earlier, the airbrush was put away for the rest of new Brewers in favor of the “nostril” shot. George Scott’s gaze into the Winter Haven sun or the Fenway press box is not a thing of beauty. His cap is tilted so far back that the #5 inked on to the bill is visible.

Billy Conigliaro and Ken Brett both suffered the misfortune of having brothers who were better players. Billy probably welcomed a chance to shed Tony’s shadow in Boston. This trade would start Brett on a vagabond odyssey that would produce some true airbrushed gems. Here is a link to a previous post on this topic.

With the leather-lined padding exposed under his batting helmet and a slight smile, Joe Lahoud’s card is a bit more interesting than the others. Perhaps Joe is smiling over the prospect of more playing time outside of Beantown.

By far, the worst photo is that of journeyman catcher Don Pavletich. He was apparently very surly at the prospect of another trade, having been dispatched by the Reds to the White Sox in 1969 and on to the Red Sox in 1970.

I would be remiss if I didn’t show a card (postcard with the Reading Phillies) of Patrick Skrable, the veteran minor league player the Brewers tossed into the trade mix. Although Pat never made it to the big leagues, he was a master of placing the “Q” on a triple-letter space.

Which team came out on top of this deal? Harper had good years with Boston, but George Scott developed into one of the most feared power hitters in the American League. Plus, when the Red Sox reacquired him from Milwaukee, they gave up Cecil Cooper. So, advantage Brewers.

Anna and the 1961 Yaz Card

1961 Yaz

I didn’t make Anna out for a baseball fan. Not in a million years. But, the more we talked about life and our lives, the more interesting she became. Then she said she loved baseball. Uh, what, as I did a double-take.

Turns out, she grew up near up not too far from Shea Stadium, and of course was a Mets fan. She had been to tons of games early in her life and fondly recalled getting home from school one afternoon in October and her mother running out to tell her that the Mets had just beat the Baltimore Orioles to claim the 1969 World Series title. It was the best moment of her baseball life, she said with a gleam in her eye.

She was never so beautiful as she was at that moment, telling me this story. From then on, all we talked was baseball. She was several years older than me, and married. As a young and single guy, I was amused. Still, we could talk about the Mets, and her favorite players, and growing up in the Queens neighborhood of Jamaica.

Despite all the interesting players filling the Mets rosters over the years, that included Seaver Koosman, Kranepool and Grote, Anna threw me a curveball when she said with emphasis that her all-time favorite player was Carl Yastrzemski. Yeah, Yaz. The Hall of Fame MVP, Triple Crown winner, 18-time All-Star, 7-time Gold Glove left fielder for the Boston Red Sox! When I asked why him, she said that he was Polish (her ethnic background), and with a gush, she continued, “he was so handsome!” Alright then, Yaz was her guy. Cool!

I pondered our conversation that evening, and the day after, thinking about Yaz and the 1969 Mets, and the 1973 Mets, and the 1986 Mets. I wanted to give Anna something special, something unique, something that I know she didn’t have. Maybe a baseball card from my collection. But, nothing would be as special as a 1961 Yaz card, the one with the rookie star, which I did not have. As it so happened, there was a trading card shop several blocks from my house. Armed with a binder of good stuff and the best of intentions, I ventured out into the night after work to do a little horse trading.

This was summer 1995, and the card guy wanted something like 30 bucks for that 1961 Topps #287 card. It might have been $25. Regardless, I didn’t have cash, and was prepared to haggle. He looked through the pages of my binders with some mild interest, knowing that he had me over a barrel after I foolishly indicated the card was for a girl. He would leaf through a couple of pages and stop, and continue turning pages, stopping again, and turning some more. I had been in his shop on a number of occasions to peer with envy at the cards on the glass shelves, or sift through the commons in the boxes in neatly arranged stacks. The glass shelf cards were always out of my price range, but it was harmless to covet.

I had an idea of what he might find interesting, and tried to steer him towards a few of my cards from the early to mid-1970s, hoping to entice him with my 1971 Steve Garvey rookie card (#341) or my 1973 Rod Carew (#330). Heck, I thought my 1974 Reggie Jackson (#130) looked pretty good, too. Unfortunately, he had those, and wasn’t interested. He flipped through the pages one more time before settling on my 1974 Tom Seaver (#80), 1975 Dave Winfield (#61) AND my 1976 Johnny Bench (#300). Really? All three? He went to his cabinet and pulled out that ’61 Yaz, and seemed to wave it in my face. Taunting me. Or least that’s what it felt like. I looked at Tom and Dave and Johnny, wondering if they knew what I was about to do.

The 1974 Tom Seaver card was one of several Topps cards that year featuring the player in a landscape position. The photo featured a great action shot of Tom Terrific pitching off the mound at Shea. The ’75 Winfield card featured the third-year player at home in San Diego taking a few cuts, perhaps before the start of the game. I always liked the Bench card from the 1976 collection. He’s featured as a “NL ALL STAR” lettered within a star shape that also indicated his position. The photo shows him standing in what appears to be moments after a close play at the plate because there’s still a cloud of dust enveloping him, as he stands with there in his catcher’s gear sans the mask. I always liked those catchers’ cards. Topps always seemed to do a good job at capturing the catcher working his tail off behind the plate. Bench, in this card, seems to be ready to fight, ready to defend his plate.

I looked down again at those three cards and closed my eyes and made the deal. The guy took my cards away and presented me with the ’61 Yaz tucked inside a hard plastic sleeve. It wasn’t the best of deals, but it was the best that I could do. I had hoped that someday I might get them back. Right now, they were gone, and that was that. But, now I had something special for someone special. That thought lightened the short walk back to my apartment.

At lunch the next day, I surprised Anna with the card. She was overjoyed. She laughed and smiled, and held the card to her heart. Suddenly, the trade didn’t seem so bad. It was a great trade, in fact. We talked about Yaz and the 1967 World Series, and the fortunes of the Boston Red Sox, and the fortunes of the Seattle Mariners, who were catching fire that summer. I was pleased that Anna liked the card so much.

The next day, she presented me with a curious thing: a Cleveland Indians button with an attached talisman from the 1940s. It was her grandfather’s, she said. She wanted me to have it. I never knew if she had any other baseball things, but I got the impression this object meant a great deal to her. I took it from her with great care and appreciation, and promised to take good care of it. For nearly 25 years, I’ve kept that Cleveland Indians button with attached talisman in a box in a little plastic bag. Every so often I come across that thing and think of Anna and the 1961 Carl Yastrzemski card.

It’s Fun to Share, But…

A great joy that comes with the SABR Baseball Cards Committee is sharing what we have, what we want or what we discover. I genuinely enjoy that and, in many ways, it’s a key part of why we like collecting. Telling people what we own is an important piece of the equation, whether it comes from pride or bragging. There’s an old Cindy Crawford joke about that. (See bottom of post; I won’t interrupt my flow here.)

I wonder, though, what becomes too much information. If I had a case of unopened 1952 Topps high number packs (I don’t), would I share that? Should I share that? It strikes me as dangerously provocative and, though I like you all, I don’t know you.

“Hey, did I ever tell you guys about that unopened case of 1952’s I have? I keep them next to my desk in my office.” That seems like an excessive share and a tad dangerous.

1952Topps Case2

I wonder too if there’s etiquette on asking what a fellow collector has. “Hey dude, I see you collect pre-war cards. Do you have the T206 Sherry Magee error card? That’s really valuable.” Maybe I’m overly suspicious, but that kind of approach makes me paranoid.

16865c_lg

I’ve been thinking about this as I see various collectors’ posts, whether here our on our Facebook page (or on the Baseball Card Freaks Facebook page, which, I believe, is a closed group). I don’t want to be a downer and start promoting my concerns, but I often wonder why people post about excessive pricey items they own.

Anyway, it’s been on my mind, so I’ve got nothing more to add as per usual, about cards I’m looking for, sets I’m collecting, or general hobby stuff. I am very curious if others have these same thoughts, or at least similar ones. Let me know.

cc23

Now here’s the Cindy Crawford joke, though I used to hear it about Claudia Schiffer too:

A young single guy finds himself stranded on a deserted island. As he washes ashore, he sees a woman passed out in the sand. Able to perform CPR on her, he saves her life. Suddenly, he realizes that the woman is Cindy Crawford. Immediately, Cindy falls in love with the man. Days and weeks go by, and they’re making passionate love morning, noon and night.

One day she notices he’s looking kind of glum.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” she asks. “We have a wonderful life together and I’m in love with you. Is there something wrong? Is there anything I can do?”

He says, “Actually, Cindy, there is. Would you mind, putting on my shirt and pants?”

“Sure,” she says, “If it’ll help.”

He takes off his shirt and pants and she puts it on.

“Okay, would you put on my hat now, and draw a little mustache on your face?” he asks.

“Whatever you want, sweetie,” she says, and does so.

Then he says, “Now, would you start walking around the edge of the island?”

She starts walking around the perimeter of the island. He sets off in the other direction. They meet up half way around the island a few minutes later. He rushes up to her, grabs her by the shoulders, and says, “Dude! You’ll never believe who I’m sleeping with!”

Best Trade Ever

Look at this card:

s-l1600

Yes, it’s a Joe DiMaggio rookie card, but a fairly reasonably priced one because it has another guy on it. That other guy is Hall of Famer Joe McCarthy!, but collectors find that takes away from the Joe D-ness of it. I’ve been working on my 1936 Goudey Wide Pen Type 1 set and this card was definitely going to be the hardest to find in reasonable condition at a reasonable price. In VG it books for $150 but I knew I’d never get it at that price. I assumed I’d have to pay $250 or more.

Then one appeared with a minimum bid and that minimum bid was $150. Definitely in a VG or better state, with some staining on the back that is hard to see on the front. I thought about it for days, asked myself a lot of questions about whether I’d be happy with this particular card and that this particular price. I finally realized I’d never get it in this condition for any less, so I put in a bid.

In the last few weeks I’ve been methodically looking for doubles and triples to sell. One of the doubles I had listed was a 1976 Walter Payton rookie card, NM, with a minimum bid of $100. After I bid on the DiMag card, I got the familiar iPhone ding signifying eBay action. Someone had bid on Payton. Then there was a message. The guy bidding on the Payton card was the same guy selling the DiMaggio! He’s putting together a complete run of Topps football , he liked my card and hoped we could end our respective auctions early.

1976 Payton front059

“Are you offering a one-for-one trade?” I asked. He was. It was about midnight but I hopped out of bed and ran down to the computer. After a series of messages back-and-forth where we tried to figure out how to do this properly and in accordance with eBay rules (he changed his auction to Buy It Now with Offer and I was able to end my auction early and hit his bid), we got it done. Both eBay and PayPal were cut in on the deal but the end result is I got a Joe DiMaggio/Joe McCarthy card for $17 and an extra card I was willing to trade.

What does this say about value? I now have an 81-year-old card with two Hall of Famers, one of them amongst the most legendary, and the other guy got a 41-year-old card of an equally high level icon. Perhaps the value is in our mutual satisfaction and that’s enough. Prices, ages, maybe none of that really matters. Still, I can’t believe my good luck fortune.

Nineteen more cards to go in this set, with DiMaggio replaced by this guy as the highest priced card remaining:

s-l1600 (1)

Anyone want to trade one for one for this?:

1974 Wilt front017

Pulling Dubs and Saying Goodbye

All of my cards are mine. Redundant? Nonsensical? Inscrutable? Perhaps, but I’ve always had an attachment to each and every one of my cards. They all feel like my children, if, like a seahorse, I had thousands and thousands of babies. That attachment to what is mine has made it nearly impossible to make sensible choices.

As a kid I was told that I shouldn’t love things, that things can’t love you back. Maybe that’s so, but things have provided me a lot of joy and if that’s not love, what is? So it’s been a major step forward to start selling extra cards and, in a grand sense, make the change from “all of these cards are part of me” to “wow, I have a lot of assets I can leverage.” The former is emotional, the latter as clinical as can be.

I wrote about making huge bulk trades a few weeks ago. Though I’ve only been through one trade, it was a great one – I’m getting around 350 1968 and 1969 Topps baseball and I’m giving 525 Topps football, basketball and hockey, 1969-1974. As trading partners, Mark and I sort of eyeballed value, but not too much. Clearly more of my commons were needed to match his commons, but there are a lot of stars and Hall of Famers in the mix and my guess is, if we really went through each card meticulously, we’d come out pretty close in dollar value. But that’s not really the point, nor where the fun is.

1973-1974-topps-basketball-unopened-wax-box

I was in Chicago last week, missing my cards but picking up 150 1968s and 1969s from my longtime pal Jimmy. We’ve engaged in pretty loose back and forth trading. I came into a bunch of 1970 Topps last year and gave him what he needed. He returned the favor and I’ll return it right back once I get his mid-1970s want lists. Once I got back to Cooperstown, it was time to start pulling cards for the big Mark deal.

It was an interesting process for me. On one hand, going through boxes and boxes of cards from my prime pack buying days was pleasantly emotional, eminently enjoyable. Card after card, each one bringing back vague nostalgia and visions of little Jeff Katz ripping packs on the concrete step by the front door of his Long Island house. I could see the old shoeboxes I stored them in, feel the thin wood doors of a cabinet that I put the boxes in. On the other hand, I knew I was saying goodbye to them all, sending them to a home where they’d become prized singles, not neglected doubles and triples.

Cards are in transit, from East Coast to West, from West Coast to East and, I have to say, I feel great about it. I’m excited to get a box of cards and I know Mark feels the same. Once I go through my new babies, I’ll likely be $100-200 away from a complete 1969 Topps set, unless one of you wants to join in and trade with me. I still have thousands of doubles I’m ready to part with, though I’ll miss them. Maybe they’ll keep in touch.