Sometimes in life you spend too much time and energy to acquire a card. You search high and low to find it and have to work a series of paper clip trades and ancient ritual dances to track down that cardboard wonder. For some, it is a rare 1/1 superfractor, for others, it is a PSA 10 vintage beauty. And then there is the saga of the 1984 Topps Rack Pack Glossy All Star #20:
|Here in its place of honor among other lesser moral 1984 cards|
The card you see in the center of that page is more than just a glossy insert from a long ago time, it was a quest, a pursuit beyond all others. Oh sure you say, you could just go on sportslots or COMC and pay 85 cents for it, but that would defeat the purpose. No, this card taunts me, it tells me I am not worthy. It tasks me beyond what is right or righteous. There is no way to convey the proper magnitude of what that card put me through. The smile on Gary Carter's face hides a vicious streak of cruelty I will take to the grave and never share with another soul. This is not some simple 1988 Phil Niekro card or a pile of Bip Roberts cards. My family will never recover from the efforts and resources it took to track down and tame this horrible beast. Heavens to Betsy, what on earth possessed me to ever get involved with a cursed card? What fools these mortals be.