A Stray Stack and a Sudden Project
I didn’t set out to build the 1975 Topps set. It started with a stray chunk of cards folded into another purchase. Bright borders, familiar names, a few oddball faces—I figured I’d chase the rest. Manageable. Nostalgic. A good excuse to dig through listings and maybe reconnect with the kind of collecting I used to enjoy.
The Stars Came Easy—The Headaches Didn’t
The stars came easy. Brett and Yount landed early. Even #660 Hank Aaron didn’t put up much of a fight. But Nolan Ryan Highlight #5? That card nearly broke me. The first one I found was bent like a taco. Months later, I finally scored a decent copy. By then I had a graded 4, a 6.5, a raw Brett, two Younts, and a mini. Somewhere along the way, I stopped building a set and started stockpiling doubles of cards I didn’t need to complete the set.
The Binder Is Full, But the Thrill Is Gone
Joe Ferguson was the last card. Not a star. Not a story I knew. Just a placeholder that refused to surface. When he finally showed, I slid him into the binder and stared at the finished pages. I expected triumph. Instead, I got silence.
Top-Loading the Stars, Boxing the Rest
Now the set sits in two binders I never open. I’ve started peeling out the stars—top-loading Brett, Yount, Aaron, Ryan. The rest? Headed for a box. Not because they’re worthless, but because they’ve already done their job. They got me here. That’s enough.
I Wanted the Chase, Not the Set
I thought I wanted the set. What I really wanted was the chase. The hunt was the thing—the late-night searches, the weird eBay listings, the thrill when a stubborn card finally landed in my mailbox. That was the high.
Joe Ferguson Wasn’t Just the Last Card
And Ferguson? Turns out he wasn’t just the last card. He was a catcher with a cannon arm, 14 seasons, 122 home runs. Known for grit, not glory. The kind of player who just shows up and gets it done. I’d spent months hunting his cardboard without ever bothering to learn about the man.
The Quiet Lesson Behind the Cardboard
That’s the quiet lesson. Completion isn’t the point. The point is that somewhere between the bent Ryan and the missing Ferguson, I remembered why I collect: the chase, the stories, the surprise reminder that the cardboard in your hand is also a life, a career, a person worth noticing.
El Cardquistador 
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