I'm sure most of you on this blog may not be able to relate to this small feeling I get - this selfish feeling - when I think about baseball and the steroids scandals up to the recent Mitchell report.
In 1986 my family took a trip - a long expensive trip to the three major sports Hall of Fames. A trip filled with flat tires, bad transmissons, tense family moments and great family moments, and an excitement of a 10 year old on his quest to Cooperstown. I had just started began seriously collecting baseball cards, admiring the collection my brother had since he was my age. Cooperstown was my Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle! And indeed - I very well may shooot my eye out on this one later on.
Collecting cards I'd hear stories about our dumb parents putting baseball cards in the spokes of their tires becuse they liked the sound the cards made. It was no doubt they were without Dr. Mario and World of Warcraft and were easily entertained by things like the cards in the spokes in the tires, hula-hoops and vanilla ice-cream. But some parents - other kids parents - the smart ones - saved their cards and had an investment for their kids futures. I'd have to build my own investment - support myself with that Jose Canseco rookie card I knew I'd get opening that pack of 86 donruss. Flat tires and broken down RV's frustrated me as an interference to my baseball card dynasty I would soon create off of my fourteen dollars and twenty eight cents.
When we got there, I was overwhelmed. We walked the streets of Coopertown, going from store to store, and I was planning my financial future. No point in spending my money on one or two big cards. I could've sammed off a few 1984 rookie cards, but I invested in a box of 1986 Donruss cards. That way, I could have all the players of the future, and make hundreds off each one of them. I opened pack after pack and never got a Jose Canseco. I was naer tears as we left Cooperstown. I'd have to settle for a Mookie Wilson, a Howard Johnson, a Billy Doran, and other five to ten cent athletes. That damn conspiracy against me started at an early age.
Over the next six years, I would spend alot of money on baseball cards. At times, I put my juvenile freedom on the line as my friend Steve and I stole 54 Deion Sanders Upper Deck baseball cards. In my own admittance, I was a little criminal, stealing other cards along the way from trade shows and a friend in junior high who I thought was so rich, he'd never know the difference. I feel bad about that now, and would at times in my future life experience the karma of what it was like to have things stolen from me. The only thing I can do about that past is be honest about it. Admit it and be accountable for it. (Hear that Mark McGwire? - Be accountable).
I lost interest in cards when I got a drivers licsense and a few more hairs on my chest. (The hairs actually came way later!) But I kept those cards neatly arranged in a closet along with my childish dream I've carried in my pocket. And eventually, the dream was forgotten, too. But the cards remained.
As I came into adulthood - with less money - I pondered at times to sell my cards. Each time I had abandoned that idea, with an assurance to myself that investments gain even more value ocer time. I reminded myself not to be so passive about my future investments. But in reality, I was a baseball card pinch penny. I very well could have made a few quid to help out, but that childish dream, convinced me I could make more quid at a later date. I would never make mistakes I mad like trading all of my Ken Griffey Jr cards for this superstar Bo Jackson. I'd be smarter.
Four or so years ago, I gained possession of my collection from my parents. I took possession of the most valauble cards and 50% of my collection, leaving a few boxes of hidden treasures in their attic. I withheld making quick money to let my investment grow. Some point during that year, I believe I spent a night very similair to my chhildhood nights at home. I was in my apartment witha Beckett price guide and cards sprawled around the carpet floor. I was somewhat content, but with my short attention span - still, as an adult - I forgot about them.
A few weeks ago, I was brought to the realization, that the golden boys of the late 80's and early 90's were among many of those leading the steroid scandals. The Barry Bonds (87 Topps), Mark McGwire (84 Topps), Jose Canseco (86 Donruss), and now possibly Roger Clemens (85 Topps), were practically plummeting in value. I had already given up on the other like Daryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden, the Rafael Palmero (87 Donruss) was worthless now. The Sammy Sosa (90 Topps) was worthless. And the Mitchell report isn't to blame. Neither are the players listed. I blame myself for being a pinch penny. I learn from this lesson, but get an irritation everytime I read more about it.
I still have my collection. Now seems the time when I would get the least for it. I could wait for the season to begin in April and try to unload what I can for what hopefully help make a payment on one of my lower credit cards - the interest at least. But what then. I suspect, if history repeats itslef and the laws of Darwin and Haines prevail - I will be bitching - I mean - blogging about this sometime in the future and possibly in greater length of less importance.
I'll let you fine people know how things turn out. I may just sell all of them except for the Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens rookie cards. Take that money to Wal-Mart and invest in a bicycle to get myself back in shape once I quit smoking, and take those two cards and put them back in the spokes of my tires.
As I ride the trails and laugh at the face of defeat,
I will listen to the sounds of the cards in the spokes,
And think, "Golly Gee, that sounds neat!!"
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2 comments:
I don't think that those two cards are even worth that!! I'd probably shred the Barry card!!
OK, Clemens is now putting himself out there swearing he DID NOT use. So why am I still skeptic. We've watched as most of the guilty, when accused, have made the same testimonies.
Clemens blames the media. If he is innocent, who is to blame. Who ever it is, has sold my naive ass. After seeing confession aftrer confession, I see millionaire athletes throw out lies like they throw out thier money.
Amazing. I feel bad for those guys who are so lost in their own reputation. But I have become quickly skeptical of them too. They have lost the trust of fans.
Last spew - I embraced guys like Bonds and Clemens becuase for so long they were good players before they were All-Stars and superstars penoms. My naive belief was that if you worked long and hard enough, you could achieve what you wanted. (And I still believe that). But in Bonds case, it's more like when you have millions and still want more, go that route of get it when you want it and how you think you deserve it. Dissappointed and hurt at athletes I looked up to as a child.
And I hope in my heart, Clemens is innocent. Even if he did leave Houston for the freakin Yanks.
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