HOLYOKE - Kids don’t collect baseball cards anymore, that I can tell, anyway.
For us, when we were young, it was not only a necessity, but also an obsession.
As soon as we got a spare nickel (that’s what they cost), we would run to the store and buy a pack. The packs contained about a dozen cards and the worst, teeth-decaying bubble gum ever.
The cards - not the gum - were the object of our desire. You would shove the gum, two pieces I think, in your mouth and then start going through the cards. By mid-summer, you would already have a ton of cards, and you were looking for new ones to add to the collection.
Sorting the cards and saying, “Got ’em, got ’em, ain’t got ’em,’” were things we all did and said. Usually you were disappointed. You usually got another Mario Triggo, Cass Michaels, Joe Astroth or Bob Dillinger card in your latest pack, and you would still be seeking a Ralph Kiner, Bob Elliott, Ted Williams, Bobby Doerr, Vic Raschi, Joe DiMaggio, Jackie Robinson, Peewee Reese, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Robin Roberts, Warren Spahn, the real good players.
Most times, though, you ended up with another Hoot Evers, Johnny Lipon, Johnny Groth, Sal Yvars or someone else non-descript. So, then would begin the trading.
If your buddy had, say, an Al Rosen or a Bob Lemon, who you needed, you would be willing to part with a double of someone like Eddie Stanky. That would be a fair trade.
Then, there would be the “big flip” contests. You would flip cards against the wall at school or the block in which you lived. If you outdistanced your opponent, you would get that card of his and vice versa. If you got a “leaner,” that would be two of his cards, or vice versa.
Some kids attached the lesser cards, like a Tom Hurd, onto the wheels of their bikes, a trick that would make a motor-like sound as they rode away. It was at least considered a practical use for some of the cards.
I had about a million cards, or so, and when I moved away. My mother disposed of them, as goes the old cliché.
Collecting baseball cards was fun, though, and it gave us an appreciation of fair trade. Or, maybe it didn’t. I’m not sure.
Michael J. Burke, of Holyoke, is retired from The Republican. He can be reached at email@example.com