Happy Mother’s Day everyone. I hope you all managed to get a card and flowers for that saint of woman.
No, not those kind of cards. Those are the cards we love. Actually as a kid I was so self-centered that I thought everybody liked what I liked, so I used to think it was a grand gesture me picking out a pack of baseball cards for my mom. Turns out those cards ended up in my collection before brunch. I probably volunteered to take care of them; how was my mom going to protect her card collection with no sleeves???
I have my mom to thank for a lot of things: my fashion sense, my caring personality, my dog, my eyes and my ability to make six different side dishes into a lifetime of dinner combinations, but this is a blog about baseball cards, so this post is about how my mom funded my collection.
Sure mom bought me a pack here and there, took me a card shop, you know the basic stuff, but it wasn’t until the summer of 2001 that I found her hidden treasure.
I should take a step back. My Mom managed apartments near our house that were owned by my Grandma. Every so often she'd empty the quarter-operated laundry machines into a bucket, before taking them to the bank she would usually store them at our house. Her only fault in this plan was trusting her two wide-eyed rowdy boys.
This was also about the same time that WalMart started carrying more cards in my town and the time that I would have hiked across America for an Ichiro rookie card. Needless to say I was a wax-fiend. My brother and I would steal quarters all day, knowing that that small amount wouldn’t be noticed. We’d ask for Mom to take us to the bank to get cash or we’d just pay with quarters.
This was the life. Mowing the lawn for $5 now seemed like child’s play, we were rolling in it. I had tracked down an Ichiro RC (albeit a Victory one), my brother had one too, towards the end of the summer I was even scoring Mike Vick and LT RCs, but greed got the best of us.
Somewhere along this wax ripping binge we had crossed the line from negligible amount of quarters missing into, “WHERE THE F*** DID ALL THE QUARTERS GO, WTF?!!!” (note: my Mom probably didn’t cuss, but she was so mad that it felt that way).
And there you have it. That’s the reason my 2001 collection is stocked full of RCs, inserts and all that jazz, while my collection from 2002 is limited to things I found on the ground or what was left over for $1.29 in 2003. Given the years and what was available I’d say I got lucky.
Oh and the moral of the story kids? Don’t steal from Mama Bear, not even for cards.
Hope you enjoyed my little flashback and have a Happy Mother’s Day.