El Cardquistador

Letting It All Go

I was in my early 40s, staring at a cramped moving truck and a pile of dusty boxes and binders that had been neglected for years. The weight of them—physically and emotionally—felt like too much to carry into the next chapter. So I let it all go.

I gave nearly everything to a kid who was just getting into collecting. He got a head start I never had. I kept a couple of things: the Dave Winfield I’d had since I was a teenager, a few passable Al Kaline cards I’d scraped together money for as a younger person. But the rest? Gone. Even my Darryl Strawberry cards—and at that moment in my life, I still felt like Strawberry had left me. (I’ve since come to understand that he struggled like everyone else, just with an audience.)

Walking Away

For a while, I was out. Done with cards, done with baseball.

Then I started catching glimpses of modern baseball here and there—a game on at a bar, an account on the radio—and I thought to myself: What is this crap?

Falling Back In

That reaction sent me down a rabbit hole. I started watching old games as if they were new again. Tom Seaver’s no-hitter. Dave Parker’s incredible throw to nab Brian Downing at the plate. The ’68 and ’84 Tigers World Series runs. And just like that, the bug came back.

The Accumulation Phase

This started the accumulation phase. First, I rebuilt my Darryl Strawberry collection. Then I overbuilt it. Then I resolved to own every pre-2000 Strawberry card I could track down. (I’m 43 cards away, for anyone counting.)

But rewatching those old games pulled me in other directions. I’d always known about Nolan Ryan—I watched him at the end of his career, when he was still rapidly adding to his legacy—but I came to respect Tom Seaver more. I started adding his cards as fast as I could. Watching the ’68 Tigers sent me deeper into my Al Kaline collection and had me picking up cards of Tigers players I’d never really understood before.

And this collection was starting to become something. Something more than I could really deal with.

Losing Track

I made efforts to catalog everything, to really understand what I had accumulated. These all failed. Sure, I have a vague idea of where most things are, but at any given moment I only have a sliver of it in my head. The rest is scattered across boxes, binders, and the occasional “I swear I put that somewhere safe” black hole.

The Overlooked and the Undervalued

I started to discover—and rediscover—overlooked players. And I needed these cards. Pedro Guerrero. Dave Stieb. Bruce Sutter. Rick Sutcliffe. Goose Gossage. Ron Guidry. Along with some of the best stories in baseball: Al Hrabosky. Billy Martin.

Most of these cards are affordable. Easy to accumulate. Too easy.

The Modern Jolt

Then Shohei Ohtani did the 50/50, eclipsing Darryl Strawberry’s 30/30 and José Canseco’s 40/40. Something about that hit hard. Maybe something worth tuning in for was happening in modern baseball after all.

This coincided with a Tigers team on the rise. On fire, even.

Drowning in the Present

Now I found myself in a world nearly incomprehensible to me: modern cards. Prospects with cards years before they’d ever see a major-league field. Dozens and dozens of “rookie cards” for each player. Dozens of colors and variations of each card. Baseball card sets where most of the cards don’t even matter.

And now I was in over my head.

Making Rules

In The Kids Are Right… and Mostly Alright I had to start making rules and principles for what’s allowed in. I totally get the “no base cards” mantra now. I can’t get and hold dollar cards—they take up too much room. I can’t follow every prospect, every farm system. I have to stop trying.

in its It’s Okay to Be Late I considered not chasing prospects. It’s less mentally taxing to let a player develop, to actually become a fan, before grabbing a card or two. Even if it costs more, it weighs less.

Something Manageable

So now I’ve effectively slowed down. Mostly.

I try not to prospect. I remind myself that five $20 cards are better than 100 $1 cards. That a day with no card deliveries is actually a win—a chance to dive into the collection and enjoy it. I can plan out what the next thing will be. I can search eBay, COMC, Whatnot, and see what’s out there. Pick and choose with intention.

And I can finally let a few things go.

Maybe.