[brian1961]

Over the last few years a few things occurred to me regarding Alan Rosen and the public he served, and that served him.

Here was a man that really hadn't accomplished a whole lot in his life, became a baseball card collector, and a collector that was so fastidious and fanatical about condition someone tabbed him as "Mr. Mint", which in turn became his moniker and he used it for his business. In the early 80s, he sold his beautiful collection, and began buying and selling nice cards.

Right place at the right time.

He began his flamboyant full page-ads in the pages of SPORTS COLLECTORS DIGEST. They worked. He was abrupt. He could be the rudest jerk on planet EARTH. Yet, he bought the good stuff, and he sold that good stuff. The stuff cardboard dreams are made of.

He had the great stuff, and you did not come at him with any attitude of dominating the meeting. He controlled, 'cause he had the stuff dreams were made of. You better behave yourself, or he'd cut you off at the ankles, and he could do it, too.

'Cause he had the cards.

After a few years, he made millions doing this. Some guys thought they could just be brusque right back, or take a tough stance. MR. MINT RAN HIS BUSINESS AS A FIEFDOM!!!!---AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT! He wasn't some shlockmeister, or your usual used-car salesman. Hardly. Comparing it with our world, he sold vintage racing sports Ferraris, Mercedes-Benz, and Alfa-Romeos. Yet, some guys treated him as if he was a used car salesman selling twenty-year old non-entities.

In general, he didn't need you or your money. He had collectors up to his nostrils that were more than willing, and glad to pay his price, and shuffle through all the shit he put them through.

'Cause he had the most desirable cards, et al, to be found in the USA. He had major suppliers combing through collections everywhere, with their ears to the rail, should any word of a find come about.

Granted, he treated a lot of people terribly. The YOUTUBE video of his buying an elderly gentleman's collection made me wince over and over again. As I wrote before, his life is full of good, bad, and ugly; just like you and I. To our hobby, without him, we'd be a whole lot less than we are, unless you're strictly a collector-type that enjoys crumb bums. That's ok; it really is. But Mr. Mint didn't deal in crumb bums, did he?

His flash, his ads with the gargantuan nose caricature of him, and his wads of C-notes got people to finally look for what they had been keeping for decades, whether it be a case of 1952 Topps high numbers, boxes of 48-49 Leaf high numbers, a coffee can with virtually gem mint World Series press pins starting with the first year they made them, Baltimore News Babe Ruth cardS, and what became eventual PSA-graded MINT and GEM MINT T-206s, early Topps and Bowmans, and all sorts of hysterically desirable, beautiful, and rare, cards, coins, et al that became the highlights of our collection. Several of my Mr. Mint pristine gems were once prized pieces Mr. Mint sold to someone else, then eventually were consigned right back to him. I was then privileged to buy them from THE MINT MAN, whether from one of his famous phone auctions, or outright at a show.

You were eventually dealing with a multi-, multi-millionaire. You really think Mr. Mint's gonna take any guff from the likes of you, or I, or anyone else? Come on.

Maybe you, or someone you care about, suffered terribly from Mr. Mint, and you will never let it go. Berating elderly gentlemen, making a little girl cry---Alan Rosen should have been slapped both ways half a dozen times!

So, in the end, as I wrote in my book, I try to keep an attitude of gratitude.

Again, my condolences to his wife, son, and daughter.

---Brian Powell















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