Why I love collecting
But to me, a stack of cards in desperate need of organization is a blessing.
Here's some backstory. I may need to write this in parts, because I got emotional just thinking about this topic for a blog post.
Growing up, I found baseball cards around 9 years old. It was the summer of 1996, and I remember buying a pack of Topps cards from the local convenience shop in my grandparents' small rural Wisconsin town. I don't remember much about who was in that pack - except it included two Brewers: Tim Leary and Jaime Cocanower. If you weren't alive back then - or if you didn't focus on baseball as much as me - you have no idea who those two were.
That pack started me on an adventure. By 1987, I was buying packs of cards any chance I could get. I got my allowance? Cards. Mom was at the store offering to buy me candy? I want cards. I found 50 cents in the couch cushions? Cards.
It became an obsession. Every store had cards, and I wanted cards at every store. Gas stations, Target, KMart, you name it and it had cards. Toys R' Us and KayBee Toys had them. It was the height of the junk wax era, and I couldn't get enough.
But looking back now as a 42-year-old man, I realize those cards meant so much more to me than following baseball players - or chasing the big-money cards.
My family life was good. I have an amazing mother and a great sister. I probably didn't realize how good my sister was back then, but I figured it out later in life. The three of us lived in first an apartment and then a condo on Milwaukee's northwest side. The neighborhoods weren't bad when we moved in, but they eventually became rough. They were never fear-for-your-life rough, but before moving from each spot I remember thinking how sketchy those places were.
I had a normal childhood. I had neighborhood friends and school friends. Most were the same at my first place, but the second place that wasn't the case. We moved to the second place when I started middle school, and most of my friends from elementary school were going to a different school than me. I had a couple of school friends in the neighborhood, but not a ton.
When my Nintendo Entertainment System wasn't enough, there were always cards. I sorted them this way. That way. Every way imaginable. I never found a great system for it, but I was always organizing my cards.
Little did I know that those cards were helping me as much as they were.
If you read closely, dad wasn't mentioned. Sure, he was around, but he and my mother split sometime when I was in elementary school - shortly after we moved to Milwaukee. I don't remember the exact time, because I'm sure they were protecting me as much as they could. He was there a couple times a week, but not every day. He came around for football practice in the fall, then it was sporadic in the winter, spring and summer months. Sure, there were baseball or basketball games here and there, but it wasn't like I could come home every day and talk to my dad.
I could go a lot deeper into it, but this isn't really the place.
It was shortly after their split that my mom decided to go back to college for her degree. Well, she had a 9-to-5 job, so night school it is. She had classes two or three nights a week, leaving me and my sister alone for a good portion of time. I credit this time for my cooking skills, but how many mothers are going to let their pre-teen sons just wander the neighborhood when she isn't home?
That left me a lot of time alone with sister. Again, I didn't realize just how good a sister she was back then.
There were some lonely times. I'd escape to my room, partly to avoid what I thought was an annoying sister - but mostly just to go through my cards.
I spent many hours sorting through my cards. You name a guy on a 1987 card and I can probably tell you what the picture is. I know of guys like Ed Wojna and Brian Dayett thanks to cards.
Bob Dernier, Bo Diaz, Rey Quinones, these guys became my company. When I was having a rough day, Mike Easler leaning back in the batter's box helped me cheer up.
Little did I know back then how important it was to have an escape. I could've sat in my room crying because dad wasn't home every night. I could cry because mom had to work her butt off pursuing a career and a degree while trying to keep two kids happy and educated. I could've cried for not being able to wander outside with my friends for hours on end.
But instead, cards kept my eyes dry. Those cards kept me from lashing out, they kept me out of trouble. They kept me occupied when I was sick, bored, lonely, depressed ... any rough time I had, there were cards.
I recently came to this realization. As a married father of two children, there is always something going on. There's work, kids' activities, family obligations, rooms to clean, dishes to wash, laundry to fold, things to fix. There is always something.
That is why I am so glad I stumbled upon my cards two summers ago. They are years from being sorted how I would like, but that's perfect. Carney Lansford and Dan Pasqua can help me get through those rough days, and even new names like Jerred Kelenic and Vladimir Guerrero Jr. can chip in.
Thank you cards. Thank you for helping me through those rough patches as a kid. Thank you for helping me become the man I am today.
Many call cards a waste of time and money, but to me cards will always hold a dear place in my heart - even if they don't fill my wallet like I once hoped.
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