There are a number of cards I want whose ownership is tied to me miraculously winning the lottery. The miracle being that I don’t play the lottery. I often joke with my son about him getting me a Willie Mays rookie card, a 1951 Bowman #305. It can be in poor condition (see “The Good (Gd), the Bad (F), and the Ugly (P)“) and I’ll be a happy man. Of course, he’d still have to spend upwards of $500 (at least) on such a card, and then I’d have to lecture him about being irresponsible with his money. He’d counter that he simply is showing love and appreciation for what I’ve done for him. And there’d be an exchange of words; he’d end up hurt. There’d be estrangement. Every time I’d look at the card I’d be happy – hey, we’re talking Willie Mays RC here! – but I’d be sad over the separation from my son. Though, a glance at the card will make the smile return.
Regardless of that fantasy, owning a Mays rookie card remains on my list of Cards I’ll Never Have, and will have to continue coveting my neighbors’ collections. It’s not alone, either, as there are plenty to fill the invisible display in my office. Here are a few:
Each one of those generally runs into the hundreds of dollars (when I’ve sought poor conditioned ones), however, recently the Mays sold for just over $22.00! Boy was I asleep at the wheel, again (see “There Is No Joy in Mudville“). I’ve never seen any of the others near my budgeted, but expanding, limit to seriously consider purchasing. I still prefer eating to owning expensive cards that have evaded me for years.
But every dog has his day; even this mutt. Bow-wow.
I have an affinity for the obscure, and in trading cards it’s food-issued product like the 1968-69 Jack in the Box San Diego Rockets (now Houston Rockets) set. I still need two of the 14 cards in the set, but the key missing card was Elvin Hayes, the Hall of Famer who put the University of Houston (my alma mater) on the sports map. Did you catch that? It WAS the key missing card! A couple of weeks ago I won an auction – I don’t always sleep (see above references) – and got it for way under budget. It had been on that list of coveting my neighbors’ collections. I was once told that it was one of the easiest and most affordable vintage basketball sets around and that I’d not have any issues getting one. That proved to be at least untimely advice as it has been really elusively expensive for my taste. Until last week.
The 1966 Philadelphia Football set is my Holy Grail. It’s the set that started me on this collection journey as a 10-year old in Del Rio, Texas. A few years back I decided to complete the set and it’s been a fun adventure. Hall of Famer Dick Butkus’s rookie card was harder to find cheap compared to his teammate’s RC in the same set, Hall of Famer Gale Sayers. Two things added to the difficulty in acquiring the Butkus RC; 1) Butkus became an affable celebrity after football with commercials and movies, and 2) his recent death boosted prices on his cards above the normal post-COVID rate. But I reeled in this beauty, technically within budget if I don’t count shipping, which I won’t, this time.
Still, there remain a significant number of cards that may never grace my collection on home office walls or in boxes, but will be displayed in others’ collections. I once kiddingly asked a TCDB member what I had to do to be put in his will for his collection which contains many which will probably never be part of mine, including the Mays RC. He chuckled.
Every once in awhile, though, if you listen closely wherever you may be, there’ll be a joyful cry, “Yes!”, and it may be me decreasing my covetousness. I still wonder how I’d truly react if my son bought me a Mays rookie card. Estrangement would probably be temporary. I understand forgiveness and to whom much is given…we could work it out for I am not an investor, I identify as a card collector.
I Identify as a Card Collector 
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