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With a magnificently huge American Flag calling everyone up the stairs, I knew I was in for a great time!!
Here are my (very long and hopefully semi-fun-filled) observations from a recent show...
1. Elementary School Business Class
Seeing the exuberant crowd at the entrance told me this was going to be a busy show, with a lot of enthusiasm in the air. I don’t bother with the silly
‘health of the hobby’ talk
(it’s like talking about the weather), but it is worth noting that there were a lot of kids with their dads lined up waiting to get in, with many of them toting their small suitcase
‘safes’ on wheels, ready to wheel and deal. Born negotiators...
baby sharks, I guess. (I have since learned that juvenile sharks are called “pups.”)
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2. Your Hat’s on Backwards for You...Which Means it’s Now on Correctly
Keith Richards said,
“You don’t find a style. A style finds you,” and we all know that the exact same
‘style’ had found all of the
modern card ‘bros.’ They live by the (un)stylish credo of
“Get a flat brimmed hat a size or two too large and always wear it backwards!”
But this time around, I don’t believe I saw even a single dealer
‘bro’ with his hat on backwards.
Not a one!
I guess
Kenzo Takada (whoever the heck he was) knew what he was talking about when he opined,
“Fashion is like eating, you shouldn’t stick to the same menu.”
3. Speaking of Hat Size, it’s a New Criterion for HOF Voters
If you enjoy enthusiastic
(and random) baseball card chatter, there’s simply no better place to be than among the bargain bin diggers,
and this show lived up to the promise.
Making his way through masses of
1970s/80s cards, a guy in a
Reds hat was piling up a stack of cheap
Johnny Bench cards as he and his buddy talked about the best catchers of all time.
The mentions of
Campanella,
Berra and
Carter were heavy, and out of nowhere, one said,
“Gabby Hartnett!!,” which was an odd turn.
But to the
Reds fan, no one other than
Bench mattered:
“He was the ultimate player on both offense and defense. A million Gold Gloves, Rookie of the Year, World Series MVP, a pair of regular season MVPs. The greatest of all-time!!”
His buddy replied,
“Sure, people always talk about how great he was. I get it, but I just can’t get past his huge head.”
As his friend gave him a surprised
“WTF are you talking about??!!” stare, he explained,
“My mom started buying me cards in 1983. Donruss. There were like three different cards of him...and all showed his freaky, gigantic head.
It scared me...I had nightmares about it. I was just a kid!!” (Wow, talk about an odd turn.)
Pulling a card
(1974 Topps All-Star Catchers) from his friend’s pile, he exclaimed,
“Look at the size of that head!! The photographer couldn’t fit it in the viewfinder. Look at this one with Yastrzemski (he pronounced it
“Yuh-SKREM-ski”)
!!
It looks like he could fit Yaz’s head in his mouth like a lion!!! I will never get past the size of his head. It’s just not natural. It’s all too much.”
Holy crap, this guy has some issues!!!
“Dr. Phil?? Calling Dr. Phil!!!!!!”
But is he wrong? I researched the cards he mentioned and there may be validity to at least some of his crazy noggin phobia...
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4. Randomly Odd Bathroom Moment
Me and another guy happened to reach the bathroom door at the same time, just as a
maintenance man rolling his large mop and bucket of cleaning solution exited after a janitorial job supposedly well done.
Heading towards the two urinals
(no, idiots, we weren’t holding hands), both of us stopped on a dime. The floor wasn’t newly cleaned, it was the
standard tidal basin of disgusting pools of yellow everywhere with discarded bits of toilet paper thrown into the mix.
The only way to possibly reach the toilets was to do
that guy version of hopscotch where each jump targeted a
‘safe’ dry spot on the floor.
My fellow
pissee looked at me and exclaimed,
“Wasn’t he (the janitor) just in here mopping five seconds ago???!!! What did he actually do????!!!”
Ick!!!!
If this was
The Sopranos, I guess this would be called a
card-show no-show job.
5. Table Wife or Table Strife?
Approaching a lady at a table, I was wondering if I should talk to her or wait for her husband/dealer to return, and asked,
“Can I make you an offer on these (cards)? Believe me, I’m not breaking the bank here, so you won’t make enough money to take a Caribbean vacation or anything, but it’s something.”
With definite shades of
Golden Girl, Blanche Devereaux, she replied dead seriously,
“Why...would you care to accompany me to the Caribbean? Is that part of your little offer, doll?”
Listen, you always hear about
coyotes, rattlesnakes and
bigfoots (I seriously doubt that grammatically speaking it would be “bigfeet”) in
California, but man, the most dangerous animal out here is definitely the
card show cougar!!!
She was so straightfaced that I couldn’t tell if she was being serious...and I was painted into a corner, so I remained calm and didn’t take the bait. An eternity passed as the clock ticked away
(in reality, only a second probably passed)...when she suddenly guffawed so loudly it made me jump.
“My hubby wouldn’t give me up that easily!!! No way...but maybe if you bought a bunch of the expensive stuff he might!!!!!!!!” As thunderous belly laughs roared out of her jowly face, shaking the walls and frightening the guys looking through the boxes of cards.
Of course she was kidding!! Of course. Stupid boy, I should’ve known. I mean, who uses an expression like
“care to accompany me”???
(Strange side note: Whereas I pronounce it “car-a-BEE-in” — with the third syllable stressed, her reply was “cuh-RIB-bee-un,” an entirely different pronunciation. That alone should’ve told me we weren’t speaking the same language.)
Here’s a pair of AI-generated pics of this good time lady and me living our best lives at the beach...
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My possible future as her boy toy was derailed. Oh, what could have been.
6. The NFC Championship Game
This is an
NFC town. Didn’t see any
(now Las Vegas) Raiders hats or jerseys, but as usual there was a
sh*t-ton of
Niners hats to be seen, so I kept casually walking up to people to cheerfully ask,
“Hey, who are you rooting for tomorrow, Washington or The Eagles??”
Yowza!! Who knew there was an infinite number of ways to convey,
“I don’t give a goddamn flying f*ck about that!!!!” in polite society?
A few examples:
•
“Who the heck cares??!!!!”
•
“There are no other teams, only the Niners!!!”
•
“Are you out of your mind??? Why would I care???”
•
(A guy’s young son with confusion) “The 49ers aren’t playing. The season’s over.”
•
“That’s a dumb question. I hope they both lose!!!!”
•
“Next season can’t come soon enough.”
•
“Man, how bad did the Cowboys get??” (Just a tad bit off-topic.)
I had a whole thing written about the
AFC Championship game, but since my
Bills once again went down, I deleted it.
It was all about how everyone on planet Earth wants the Chiefs to lose. Alas.
7. Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign
Man, this guy speaks my frickin’ language...
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I kept wanting to go up to him and
ask if he would literally tell me what “AF” stood for, to see how much enthusiasm he’d add to those two words (the strength of one’s cursing ability is very important to us native New Yorkers).
However, he was busy the entire time
(clearly doing something right), with his chairs forever being occupied, so I didn’t want to urge him to curse loudly in front of potential clients.
Not a really good business model.
But as a young, case-wielding guy left his booth, I asked how he did with his negotiations.
“Was the guy willing to pay as far enough into “AS EFF” territory as you wanted?”
“No, it was low ball. NOWHERE NEAR a good amount. He didn’t care about the comps I showed!!!” (I guess he thinks the sign should read “NNAF”???)
I let it slide that I can guarantee the comps he used were
cherry-picked to only show his cards in the most
(new word?) expensivest of lights, while ignoring all of the data that said otherwise.
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8. The High Price of Craigs
Said it before, but it bears repeating. Dealers gotta do some surveillance if they want to make sales in a competitive environment.
I saw a
PSA 8 1966 Topps #543 Roger Craig prominently displayed on a table
at a very silly price and glanced at it for a few moments, because I love
high numbers and due to his time in
Brooklyn and being
an original 1962 Met, I have a particular fondness for
Craig.
After moving on to a neighboring table, I saw sitting before me in plain sight the very same
(newly graded) card in a
PSA 9...for less than half the frickin’ price of the first one in an 8!!
Its sticker still had an
‘unreasonable’ number on it, of course, but in chatting up the dealer it became apparent he treated people fairly and enjoyed the back and forth of the bargaining process.
In the end, I was happy to take
Rog home after securing a nice deal.
(Side note: the only PSA 9 found listed on eBay is a $500 BIN. Yowza!! Not exactly what I paid for mine.)
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9. Trapped in a Plastic Prison of His Own Making
Many collectors bemoan when a seller says,
“Well, I have X amount in this card, so...” while telling you how much he wants for it. Quite a common occurrence,
and I witnessed a slight deviation of it...
A guy had tons of
PSA slabs for sale, nicely ordered in a multitude of
two sided boxes. All had
cert numbers starting with a 9 (and undoubtedly numbered sequentially), so he himself had obviously sent them off to be graded very recently.
The cost of grading his inventory is unfathomable to me...mind-numbingly so.
Checking my phone for reasonable comps, I asked about the
excessive prices on a couple of mid-grade cards, and he told me in no uncertain terms that his prices were
FIRM.
“It cost me so much to get them graded, and those (the cards I asked about) came back lower than expected, so it screwed up my cost basis. My hands are tied. I just can’t sell them for less...sorry.”
At least he was polite.
10. Yelp Me if You Can
I asked another dealer how his day was going, and he replied,
“Can you let me know? How am I doing? Are my prices reasonable?”
Since he was looking for a review, I surveyed his set-up and made a sweeping hand motion to point out how many people were digging through his stuff, and said,
“Dude (sometimes the word “Dude” just slips out of my mouth for some reason), if you have price tags on all of your cards and people are STILL assembling piles to possibly buy, you’re doing fine. Otherwise, they’d run for the hills. Well, since this is a mall, I guess by “hills” I mean running to Victoria’s Secret to stare at pics of scantily clad models, but I digress. In the baseball card world, people staying at your table like this is a four star review!!”
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(Yes, this is obviously a fake pic meant to emphasize a point.)
11. Parker Bros.
I don’t ever recall seeing a single
Dave Parker card eminently displayed on a dealer’s table before.
He’s usually found and overlooked in the bargain bins,
probably because his cards go from 1974 through the 80’s...not exactly a ‘valuable era.’
But as a new
Cooperstownian(?), that changed dramatically. His stuff occupied some prime real estate positions in a bunch of cases - mostly his
rookie card and the occasional
1978 Topps with a sticker on the holder loudly screaming out,
“MVP!!!!”
You know how you’ll pass a modern guy’s table replete with the shiny stuff, but he’ll also have one or two
random old cards mixed in with them?
This time, the fraternal order of dealers were all playing the same game, because the majority of these older cardboard
‘guest stars’ were
junk-era Dave Parker cards at huge mark-ups!!
Wouldn’t anything more than
ten cents apiece be too expensive? Too bad you couldn’t pay for them with
Monopoly money.
12. De-Cancel Cultured
I ran across something that really
cracked me the eff up. And as I laughed, someone said,
“What???” So I turned and showed him this...
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The dealer told me he used to show that card to people to give them a good laugh.
“I find the best customers are the ones who like to laugh.”
I offered,
“As long as they’re not laughing at your prices, right?” (Hey-ooooh!!!)
He continued,
“But the last few years with cancel culture? It’s obviously funny, because it looks like her...but to the wrong person? They’ll have their internet warriors attack me for no reason.
I’m retired and don’t have the energy for that junk, but I don’t care anymore!!”
“Oh, are you a Phil Collins fan??” (His empty gaze told me my reference flew over his head.)
A couple of other guys asked what we were talking about, so I showed them the card, too,
and they frickin’ loved it!!!
One said he wanted to buy it just to have, but he
didn’t want to deprive the dealer of using it as a showpiece to entertain people.
(Side note: I have a sneaking suspicion he’s going to buy the same card, grab a Sharpie and copy what this guy did and pretend it was his own ‘brilliant’ idea.)
He said,
“I don’t like her dumb dancing, so I’ll have my 25 Facebook friends accompany me in canceling her down!!! Ha ha ha!!!!!” (Wait, did he really just use the word “accompany”???)
Since he was so happily cracking himself up, I didn’t have the heart to explain that his terminology was waaaay off.
13. Gathering the Magic in Pokémon Town
There was an entirely separate and seemingly closed to
‘outsiders’ corner area of the show that I somehow stumbled into. It was dedicated to
Pokémon and other modern stuff.
As I stepped into this beehive of activity, it was like a scene from
‘The Amazing Race’ where the contestants have to quickly complete a tough task while running around a crazily crowded, loud and energetic foreign food market.
I was overhearing all sorts of different
Asian dialects in the air, as everyone was yapping away in
(I assume) Japanese, Chinese and definitely
Korean (my girlfriend’s mom is from there).
My assumption is a language app like
Rosetta Stone must’ve been running a special on
eastern tongues, because there was an abundance of people of all races/skin colors fluently negotiating in, I don’t know,
Cantonese(?) or something, in a highly spirited fashion with their
Asian counterparts.
Their accents seemed perfect.
Since I know nothing about the modern stuff, I was a stranger in a strange land, and the whole thing was wild to behold...and not a
Topps card to be seen by this wandering
gaijin.
Speaking of accents...in hindsight, it's really too bad I wasn’t able to secure that Caribbean vacation with the table lady, because if there was ever a word that was meant to be mellifluously over-pronounced by a joyously happy, dreadlocked Jamaican man, like this gentleman, it would be “Poké-MON”...
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(You can hear him gleefully saying it to you in your head right now, can’tcha?)
Until next time my fellow yago kadeu sujipga!!