Night Owl Cards

Last year on Mother's Day I used the occasion to show my newly gained 1960 rookie card of Carl Yastrzemski and say once again that moms get a bad rap in this hobby -- being accused for generations of throwing out collections. I said then, as I've said before, my mom never threw out any of my cards. I don't know if she even wanted to throw them out. If she did, it was an unspoken thought. That doesn't mean she had any interest in cards. She didn't. No interest in baseball either. But she did jump-start my card collecting habit by buying my brother and I a cello pack each of 1974 Topps at the grocery store. They were the first cards I ever owned. That was the last time I specifically remember her buying cards for me until around 15 years ago (I'm sure she had something to do with those packs of cards I received in my Easter basket around 1979 but I didn't see any actual purchase and I don't want to sell short the bunny hopping from drug store to ...

I had no plans to participate in the Big Fun Game over at Willinghammer Rising . I remember when Napkin Doon was running the BFG and it seemed like a lot of strategizing and paying attention. Nope, I didn't have time for that. But Breakdown Cards volunteered me for the BFG and I was officially in, so, heck, I guess I had to pay attention now! And then, JBF randomized the names and I came up as selecting last. That's the perfect spot for someone who's no good at strategy (see: my fantasy baseball teams). I could sit and wait and watch while everyone else selected, and without worrying whether someone was going to steal the card I wanted. When my turn came, the best card of all the really nice cards offered up by JBF in the BFG was up for grabs. And I grabbed. The glorious Carl Yastrzemski rookie card from 1960 Topps -- one of the most notable cards of the '60s -- is now mine. The card is so notable that it has been a topic of numerous Topps reprints over the ...

Top 10 reasons: 10. I'd get the "are you really going to talk trading cards to me" look. 9. I'd have to explain why a pack of cards costs $9.49. 8. She might ask to see my card room and tell me to clean it up. 7. She might ask to see my card room and see how much money I've spent. 6. I'd remind her that I inherited the collecting gene from her but instead of collecting something worthwhile like bells or angels, I collect pictures of men playing baseball. 5. I'd have to try to explain this: It would take me all Mother's Day. 4. I'd be tempted to ask if I could explore my parents' attic just one more time because I KNOW there are STILL some cards up there that I've somehow missed. 3. I'd be tempted to ask why she never buys me baseball cards anymore. 2. I'd have to hear her say the word "baseball" in that way that she says it that makes it seem like she's pronouncing a foreign word for t...

(Happy Mom's Day. If your situation is anything like mine, there are moms everywhere today and not much time for anyone else -- as it should be. Let's see if I can squeeze in a small Cardboard Appreciation. This is the 183rd in a series): I sometimes wonder what it would be like to grow up in a sports dominated family. I don't mean just being interested in sports and watching sports and sometimes playing sports. I mean growing up in a family where sports was part of your family's occupation. Growing up where the zeal for and necessity of sports was so ingrained by the time that you entered the world that it was all anyone ever discussed. It was basically your family's life source. I wonder if it was that way for Casey Candaele. Candaele, a sometimes full-time infielder/outfielder for the Expos, Astros and Indians, is known in part for having a mother that played professional baseball, too. It's mentioned right on the back of his 1988 Score card...