My mother has always been a bit of a pack rat. I pause to use the word "hoarder" because of that TV show, but she has been known to have trouble throwing things away from time to time. She passed this particular habit on to her children, specifically, her middle child. As I have hammered home over and over again in this blog, I have issues with completing things, both good and bad. My baseball card collection is a bit of an obsession and I am working hard to keep it all manageable. My mother has always been a little terrified of my collection. I think partly because of how much time and space it has taken over the years and partly because she is certain that is mostly her fault. When I was a kid, she was very supportive of my card collecting. She would take me to shows and card shops and wait patiently for me because I never wanted to leave. She would even buy me cards for birthdays and Christmas, usually the wrong ones, but it was the thought that counts. As an adult, I don't quite think she understand me and my hobby anymore. As with most parents, she has a hard time seeing me as a grown up, so I think she still sees me as a 10-year old when I talk about my baseball cards. I suppose she has a small point about that. My card collection now is a therapeutic pastime. I think she still sees me as fooling around with them, even though at one time, I made my living buying and selling these things. As always, she tries to remain supportive, after all, she is my mother and that's what mothers do.
A few weeks ago, I was talking with my mother over lunch and she says "Oh! I have something for you!" and she reaches into her purse. She pulls out three little stacks of baseball cards, all held together with giant paper clips. "The kids at the autistic school were having a sale (my 8-year old cousin is autistic - They have these sales to try and teach these kids how money works, which can be an issue with autistic kids) and one of the kids was selling his baseball cards, so I got some for you..." I saw these old, mangled, junk wax cards held together by a paper clip and had to bite my tongue...
...after all, it is the thought that counts. My mother was doing a good thing for these kids, and by extension, a good thing for me. Let's completely disregard that these are exactly the kinds of cards that I am trying to eliminate from my own personal collection and that they have no actual monetary value. Let's dive in and look at some highlights of what mom got for me...
Kirby! A hall of famer. And Mark Grace, a rookie all star. Nice cards both. I believe at one time, I had 20 of each of those cards. I was shocked to see a 1981 Topps card in there, as that is older than any of those kids and most of their teachers. As you can see by the cards, they have been played with, as junk wax owned by children should be. That Jose Silva Victory card already had roller marks on it out of the pack, the kid just added some more love to it.
There were some 1986 Topps Traded cards in here too:
...that 1987 Mickey Hatcher was also an Update set card. I wonder where this kid got them? Were they his dad's? Those 2009 UD First Edition cards on the bottom were very
very well loved. I imagine one of these kids opened the packs themselves and played with the cards, had them in their pocket, etc. How else to explain all the rounded corners and creases? This is what kids should do with baseball cards. I think I am gonna keep those three, they have definite personality. Thanks Mom!
