Our parents learned from their parents’ mistakes. Instead of landing in the trash, my generation’s baseball cards ended up in hard plastic cases in climate controlled rooms. And now, the hard plastic cases are worth more than the cardboard they protect.
So one generation regrets tossing away a fortune, and the next needs to find a backup retirement plan. What a depressing hobby.
My buddy Dave Jamieson prompted this post with his very entertaining piece on the rise and fall of baseball cards in Slate. Enjoy.
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Excellent use of the renowned Billy Ripkin "Fuck Face" bat card.
Good eye.