Possibly my most frequent daydream when it comes to baseball cards is gaining unfettered access to someone's attic and finding cards in a box or a cabinet or under the floor boards. This thought actually goes through my head when I'm in someone's home for the first time. "I wonder if they have cards in the attic? I wonder if they know they have cards in the attic? Maybe they need someone to help them find them." Then I get a poke in the ribs because someone knows what I'm thinking, and I go back to being an adult. The "attic-as-a-goldmine" thought is so pervasive that the attic is literally my favorite room in the house. In any house. And to those of you who don't have attics, this is my face with pity in my eyes. I'm sure those people who take jobs whose duty it is to buy crap from people's homes have the same feelings that I do. An attic is an untapped resource of riches. Or at least cards. That's all I care about -- the...
Up all hours talking baseball, cardboard & collecting