Sunday, July 15, 2018
Saturday, July 14, 2018
My Favorite Baseball Card
Major League Baseball (MLB) asked for submissions describing fans' favorite baseball card.
I submitted this memory to MLB.com:
I grew up in Baltimore in the 1950s; when I was nine, the baseball card I most coveted was the 1958 team card of the New York Yankees. Except for one extraordinarily lucky duck kid, I knew no one in my neighborhood who had it. I had hundreds of cards, and so did my friends, but it seemed Baltimore was pretty much a barren desert regarding that one card. But I had a plan. My parents were taking me to visit our relatives in New York City. Maybe the Yankee card was more readily available up there? I had hope; on my trip up north I took along a few dozen baseball cards, chosen from my collection. They would be my trade bait in case I got lucky and found someone who might trade me the object of my desire. And I brought duplicates of cards I had, or that I could easily acquire in trade from my Baltimore buddies.
Eureka! My NYC cousin Steven had doubles of the team card and was willing to trade it! But he sensed my intense covetousness and bargained to get three of my cards for the one Yankees team card. No problem. I got it! Bliss!
Dad drove us back to Baltimore via the New Jersey Turnpike. You know how much fun it was as a kid to stick your hands out of the car window and play with the wind as the car sped along its way? I'm pretty sure you do. That's what I was doing with my pack of maybe thirty baseball cards, including my recently acquired gem, all securely held between my hands, as Dad sped along the turnpike. My Mom said: "You're going to lose your cards doing that." "No I'm not; I've got 'em.", I replied, and held the pack more firmly as my hands dipped and swayed against the rushing wind. So much fun. I continued to play with the wind. Then, all of a sudden, Zip! Oh, my God. A card had zipped out of my pack and flown away! "Oh, dear God, please, please, please don't let it be that one!", was my thought as I frantically thumbed through my pack - chances were very slim that it was that one; after all, there were some thirty cards in the pack. No! I must have missed it in my frenzied search! Let me check again! No!! Oh No!!
Since that fateful day, on the infrequent occasions of my traveling along the New Jersey Turnpike, I can never help but rue not listening to my dear mother, and realize that somewhere in one of the countless stretches of fields along the road, once lay my prized 1958 Yankees team picture, now long turned to dust.
Eureka! My NYC cousin Steven had doubles of the team card and was willing to trade it! But he sensed my intense covetousness and bargained to get three of my cards for the one Yankees team card. No problem. I got it! Bliss!
Dad drove us back to Baltimore via the New Jersey Turnpike. You know how much fun it was as a kid to stick your hands out of the car window and play with the wind as the car sped along its way? I'm pretty sure you do. That's what I was doing with my pack of maybe thirty baseball cards, including my recently acquired gem, all securely held between my hands, as Dad sped along the turnpike. My Mom said: "You're going to lose your cards doing that." "No I'm not; I've got 'em.", I replied, and held the pack more firmly as my hands dipped and swayed against the rushing wind. So much fun. I continued to play with the wind. Then, all of a sudden, Zip! Oh, my God. A card had zipped out of my pack and flown away! "Oh, dear God, please, please, please don't let it be that one!", was my thought as I frantically thumbed through my pack - chances were very slim that it was that one; after all, there were some thirty cards in the pack. No! I must have missed it in my frenzied search! Let me check again! No!! Oh No!!
Since that fateful day, on the infrequent occasions of my traveling along the New Jersey Turnpike, I can never help but rue not listening to my dear mother, and realize that somewhere in one of the countless stretches of fields along the road, once lay my prized 1958 Yankees team picture, now long turned to dust.
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