In 1976, at the very first sports card show in the St. Louis area, I set up a table to formally sell some of my cards for the first time. I don’t think I sold anything.
I was 14 years old.
All the other tables were filled with cards that attracted far more attention than what I had available: my duplicates from the 1968-76 Topps sets. They probably didn’t have much appeal, partly because I’d flipped through them, sorted them, traded them, boxed them up, unpacked them, and moved those stacks of cards around countless times. As I manned the tables around mine, grown men from all over the area and from several surrounding states had stacks of cards that I had only seen and read about in the hobbyist newspapers of the day. I knew I wanted to have cards like that one day.
I’ve collected a lot of them over the past fifty years, more than I ever thought possible. I’m also back at card shows trying to sell cards.
Why?
Let me tell you about Jackie, a woman I met last weekend at a card show in Illinois. She was probably in her thirties and seemed much more physically fit than many of the people walking the aisles. I thought she was a runner. And while I learned not to guess how much disposable income someone might spend on pieces of cardboard, I didn’t hire her because she had deep pockets.
She stared for a long time at my case filled with T206s, all graded by PSA or SGC, priced from $40 to $500, mostly commons with Piedmont or Sweet Caporal backs, but with a few Hall-of-Famers and Southern Leaguers. A long time. Staring silently.
I said hello, but could tell she was lost in watching and thinking. Finally, she told me she had some cards from the 1950s and 1960s, mostly of players like Clemente, Aaron, and Mays, maybe a coat or two, that she could sell or trade. “I’d really like to get started on these tobacco cards,” she said. “I just enjoy looking at them and would like to have some.”
I gave her my contact information and told her to contact me so I know we can work something out. In retrospect, I should have given her a card; Unfortunately, that thought only dawned on me a few minutes after she had left and I had lost sight of her. I hope she calls or emails me soon.
I think I can say that I was present as I watched someone fall in love with something.
Earlier that day, a man around 50 came up to the table and, like Jackie, stood scanning the case of the T206s. I greeted him and he asked, “Do you have Hooks Wiltse cards?” I must admit that I felt speechless for a moment. I didn’t come to the show expecting anyone to ask about someone who lived from 1879 to 1959 and played twelve seasons, mostly with the New York Giants, from 1904 to 1915. I had to ask why.
“He’s from where I grew up,” the man said. Wiltse was from Hamilton, NY. The collector said that he had had a leg amputated not long ago and in the time of boredom afterwards decided to collect cards of baseball players from that area. He said he just got his new prosthetic last week and was excited to be walking the show.
It made his day when, after sorting through the cards in my suitcase, I was able to make a Hooks Wiltse card.
Another guy spent a long time going through the hundreds of cheaper cards I had in a three-row box. They were priced from 25 cents to three dollars, and he happily pulled out a dozen. He told me that he and his daughters send the cards to retired players asking them to sign them; Although he confessed that the girls know nothing about the players and don’t really get a kick out of the work it takes to email them, they are excited when they come back. Then he started flipping through the plastic pages I had in a folder filled with maps from the 1950s and 1970s. And he excitedly pulled out some Bowman songs by Bobby Shantz.
“Oldest player alive,” the man said of the 100-year-old former pitcher, “and he’s still signing. I hope he can get this before he dies!”
I’ve had more lucrative card shows than this. It doesn’t really matter to me. I’m just trying to make a little extra money to feed my personal collection – and I spent more than I made on Sunday thanks to the purchase of Ted Williams cards from the 1940 and 1941 Play Ball sets.
But I got to spend the day with a friend who set up with me, I got to support some young students doing their best to promote card shows, and I got to have countless conversations with people who love baseball and collect photos of the guys who played the game.
I have also learned to always have Hooks Wiltse in stock. You never know.
#sell #baseball #cards