"What do you mean there's cards before 1948?"

8 year old me was obsessed with getting rid of my early 80s topps stuff for 70s cards of stars still playing in the early 80s. 1972 Topps Reggie Jackson that was beat all to hell on the corners/edges was my personal collecting trophy at that point in time.

I hadn't gone to a card show yet and my exposure to the wide variety of cards were pretty much limited to black and white photos of random examples of sets in various yearly issued card price guides.

Anyway, 8 year old me would look at my collection, know most of it had to cost money and not much of what was he was looking at. Then he'd ask me if I had a Reggie Jackson rookie.

“Why does it have a hole?”

Actual card from my 10-year-old self’s binder and the equivalent later acquisition.
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8 going 0n....
 

My 8-year-old self is very much aware of what I collect. He has been picking out pre-war cards and bats for me to buy for decades, and he keeps pressing me to buy more.

My 8 year old self would wander how they sounded clipped to a bike in the spokes. I didn't start collecting till much later.

8 year old me would be asking - "WTF is that thing?" or "who the hell is Anson?" or "I've never heard of Piedmont gum before"

your 8 yo self swore like a sailor. Did he ever get his mouth washed out with soap?

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Daily! It took a while to beat my addiction to Dial soap.

A thought on that year sent me daydreaming for a bit, thanks!

That was the year I first started talking my parents into regularly driving to The Sports Collector's Dugout, which was the closest card shop after we moved to the 'Big City' in Lansing, MI.

Prior to that, we lived in a little farm town called Coopersville and my only card options were a comfy banana seat bike ride to the convenience store in town (on Main Street of course, because what one-light town doesn't have one) that had a small but decent selection of current cards and a Slush Puppy machine...just enough for excitement. However, that little hole in the wall shop that was half the size of my living room and stacked to the ceiling with random stuff was way better than Toys R' Us (and that was amazing btw).

Honestly in retrospect with and adult eyes, the owner was top shelf shady. My mom absolutely hated taking my brother and I there, as it was a cluttered, smoke filled room with little to no ventilation. The owner Elliot had a consistent cigarette in one hand, pomade slicked hair, and the raspy fast talk of a used car salesman.

All that said, I loved that place. I would stare at the cards in his little case that far exceeded my dollar weekly allowance for chores and seemed so out of reach. Those Mantle's were around 20 bucks by god, who could afford that?

Being a Michigan town, the case was of course full of Detroit stars. The main case had a center section of nothing but Al Kaline. I never watched him to my memory, as he had retired when I was still in diapers. However to the 'older' Tiger fans, he was still king and retired just yesterday. Al was the hot seller, and deserved his spot front and center. I looked at those cards and thought, "When I get older I will get an Al Kaline too, and i'll buy all the candy at the register...just because i'll have grown up money."

I'll admit, I never bought the entire rack of candy at the register. I'll probably pass that up. However, i'll be damned if that kid doesn't have the entire Topps run of Kaline now. He would think that was pretty cool.

"Why is that fat old guy playing with cards?"

LOL my mom washed my mouth out a few times too. I don't know what soap they used, but it wasn't Dove. It was gross.

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"Why in the world have you NOT completed your 1970 and 1971 Topps baseball sets yet? Why? But I forgive you though!"

The conversation would be quick...

Younger self: "What, is doing sit-ups illegal in the future, you fat schmuck??!! You better still have my 1972 Willie Mays card!!!"

Older self: (Debating whether or not it will be more satisfying telling him now that our dog devoured his treasured Mays card that summer, or letting him find out on his own, as I did.) "You know how Dad said he's getting some smokes and will buy you a couple of rack packs, because you've been such a good boy?? Guess what??!! He ain't never coming back, you twerp!!"

I’m sure he would laugh hard at someone spending 5-figures on a label lol

What happened to all my toys?

8 year old me would look at the boxes, the binders, the cards... and I'd be bored to tears.

I might have had a fleeting interest in Babe Ruth, but at age 8 I knew little about him. 8 year old me would have a "now" mindset. "All of these cards and you don't have Ohtani, Soto, or Arraez (68 year old me barely knows who that is)???" 8 year old me would be done with last year's cards when this year's cards hit the stores. I would have wanted this year's cards. Not last year's, nor the year before.

At age 8, I wasn't fascinated by history. not even baseball history. My first two baseball books were My Greatest Day In Baseball by Carmichael, and Guardian of the Hot Corner, it was about Ken Boyer. I'd have been about 10, give or take a year. When I got the Carmichael book, I first read the few entries from a Cardinals player. I didn't know who Rogers Hornsby was, but I learned that he was a great hitter, he was a player/manager (how can you be both, I wondered) who got the Cardinals their first World Series Championship, and that he was super happy to have tagged out Babe Ruth as he made a run at stealing second for the final out of the game and series. Next, I recall resolving to myself that I'd read them in order as listed. This was the first time I encountered many of those names...

Mom got both of those books for me. I think she got the Carmichael book first; partly to see if I would read it. I did, I loved to read, and she continually nurtured that, I read the book about Boyer, next. I didn't understand that book title at the time, though.

I recall looking at a much newer edition a few years ago, most of the old 'Greatest Days' I had read were no longer in the book, replaced with some more modern players. I didn't get that book. And at this moment I can see that maybe I really should get a copy of the newest edition possible, because I should learn about who Trout is, who Ohtani is...


So... 8 year old me would be bored with looking at unusual odd shaped pieces of cardboard of dead ballplayers.

My fictional super smart super observant eight year-old self would say ... “ Those T206s graded “TWO” are incredibly well preserved “