6.09 p.m.
On 2 March 2008 I wrote about how baseball cards have changed since I was a kid, and how it is now very hard to find stores that carry them. This afternoon I was at a Walgreens and there was a box of 2008 Topps wax packs by the register, and I was so happy to see them that I bought a couple (yes, I fell victim to impulse-buy product placement). I was very surprised at some of the changes that have been made, many of which contradict my aforementioned post on the subject. Here's the rundown:
- There are only seven cards per pack (seven!), instead of 15 when I was a kid. So two 2008 packs = less than one 1987 pack, but there's an extra stick of gum in the 2008 half of the equation, so I suppose that helps if you are a kid that is excited by the gum (which always used to be terrible).
- The cards seem slightly smaller than they used to be, but maybe this is just an optical illusion stemming from either a) I'm (obviously) bigger physically now than when I last collected seriously, or/and b) the smaller pack size makes the individual cards seem smaller as well.
- As mentioned above, there is now a piece of gum in each pack! This excites me even though the gum will still probably be horrible. I don't know if this practice is just returning this year, or if it came back a year or few ago, but I do know that for at least ten years there was no gum. My assumption is that the gum is new again this year because there is a bright pink circle on the bottom right of the front of each pack which proclaims that they "Contains Gum!"
- The wrapping is transparent, which aside from the number of cards per pack is the biggest shock to me. When I started collecting in 1987, Topps rack packs (rack-packs? rak-paks?) were still transparent, but by 1990 they were wrapped in opaque cellophane so that buyers couldn't sift through the packs to find the ones with better cards showing and buy those first. I have never seen wax packs with clear wrapping before. I took advantage of this new feature to sift through the packs at the top of the box, and picked out a pack with a Miguel Cabrera on top, (which will be valuable if he keeps his weight under control and keeps hitting the way he has the first few seasons of his career), and one with Shawn Green on top, because even though he's retired now it's still a Mets card.
- The packs were 99 cents each, which is less than Topps wax packs have been the past few years, but is still a lot, considering that you only get seven cards.
- The design is pretty cool - sort of retro '70s. Topps' designs were best in the mid-1960s through the early 1980s (1988-89 were decent as well), so I am glad they are going back to this era of design.
Okay, now I am going to open them. Full report in just a moment.
6.33 p.m.
Immediately there is a problem - unlike '80s wax packs, which opened quite easily, the 2008 wrapping cannot be opened by hand without bending the cards inside. So you better have some scissors handy, and hope you're steady-handed enough (good luck eight-year-olds!) to cut the wrapping without cutting the cards.
6.36 p.m.
The gum is twice as big now as it was in the '80s, and is in its own wrapper! This means that there won't be gum stains on the cards, and that the gum might actually be fresh. Awesome! Also, it means that if you buy more than one pack at once, you can chew once piece and save the rest for later.
The gum tastes pretty good, but is very tough even though it is elastic enough to no longer bursts into razor-sharp shards when you bite into it. I fear for my fillings' safety.
6.39 p.m.
Pack 1 includes:
Miguel Cabrera #10 (in his photo he is already Photoshopped into a Tigers uniform, it looks like the photo was taken at Shea Stadium. From what I hear, Johan Santana's card has him Photoshopped into a Mets uniform.)
Red Sox Postseason Highlights World Series Game 4 #234 (I always thought the concept of postseason cards was cool, and was sad that Topps no longer made them in the '80s, so I'm glad they're back)
Johnny Estrada #139
Jake Peavy (sweet!) #50
Jim Thome (also not bad) #240
Mark Loretta #292
Mark Reynolds (with Diamondbacks just spelled "D-Backs" - this abbreviation is bad because my mind goes immediately to "D-Bags," and I know I am not alone) #83
6.45 p.m.
The gum is already nearly tasteless and is still almost impossible to chew, so I'm spitting it out.
Pack two includes:
Shawn Green #107 (Let's Go Mets!)
Mickey Mantle #7 (with his complete career statistics on the back and no other explanation. Odd.)
Brandon Phillips #255
Carlos Zambrano #155 (also not bad)
Vladimir Guerrero #90 (very good)
Kameron Loe #313
Esteban German #189
This must be a small series since the highest card I got was #313 and I also got five All-Star-type players (a very high concentration) not counting the Mantle card. But there isn't any indication on the wrapper about what series number it is (i.e., I assume there will be another, higher-numbered series released at some point this year), or how many cards are in the series. That's rather annoying. Back in the '80s when the Topps sets always had 792 cards, "792" became a mythical number like "755." It makes me feel old that this has changed.
Showing posts with label baseball cards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball cards. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Mets by the Numbers and baseball cards
I began reading Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman's Mets by the Numbers yesterday, which is a print version of the excellent website http://www.mbtn.net. The book is also quite good. My favorite feature of it so far, however (I've read through #17), is not the writing, but the reproductions of Topps baseball cards from throughout Mets history. All of the cards have photos with visible uniform numbers. Tom Seaver, David Wright, Keith Hernandez, and Darryl Strawberry have cards on the cover, but lesser lights are also represented, e.g., Bobby Valentine (as a player, p. 3), Tim Teufel (p. 56), Felix Millan (my favorite '70s Met aside from Seaver and Lee Mazzilli, p. 89), Kevin McReynolds (p. 115), Hank Webb (p. 150), and so on. My only complaint about this feature is that the 1990 set - by far the ugliest Topps set ever - is represented seven times: Gary Carter (p. 39), Todd Hundley (p. 46), Bob Ojeda (p. 99), Howard Johnson (p. 104), Kevin Elster (p. 110), Frank Viola (p. 139), and Jeff Innis (p. 200). All of these players were with the Mets for multiple seasons, you would think that their uniform numbers would be visible on at least one of each of their cards from other years. But maybe not. Anyway, thank God the card reproductions are in black-and-white, because if they were in color the hellacious color combos of the 1990 set would give some readers seizures.
The book's card reproductions make me nostalgic for my childhood, when I spent virtually all of my allowance during the summer on baseball cards, much to the chagrin of my parents, who thought I should save money instead. I began collecting in 1987 because I wanted cards of the Mets' 1986 championship team. Back then a wax pack of 15 Topps cards and a stick of gum cost 45 cents (I never liked Fleer or Donruss; in 1991 I bought Score instead of Topps, probably because my eyes were still traumatized from the aforementioned 1990 Topps set). One time (1989) I bought an entire box of wax packs, and it only cost $14. Now, you're lucky to find a pack on sale for less than $2, and you get fewer cards (12? I'm not even sure anymore) and no gum. Also, you used to be able to buy baseball cards everywhere, and now they are very hard to find. Not even Wal-Mart sells them. This saddens me - baseball cards were my introduction to baseball literature, they were how I grew to love the game itself (not just the Mets), but now a generation of children are growing up without this resource.
The book's card reproductions make me nostalgic for my childhood, when I spent virtually all of my allowance during the summer on baseball cards, much to the chagrin of my parents, who thought I should save money instead. I began collecting in 1987 because I wanted cards of the Mets' 1986 championship team. Back then a wax pack of 15 Topps cards and a stick of gum cost 45 cents (I never liked Fleer or Donruss; in 1991 I bought Score instead of Topps, probably because my eyes were still traumatized from the aforementioned 1990 Topps set). One time (1989) I bought an entire box of wax packs, and it only cost $14. Now, you're lucky to find a pack on sale for less than $2, and you get fewer cards (12? I'm not even sure anymore) and no gum. Also, you used to be able to buy baseball cards everywhere, and now they are very hard to find. Not even Wal-Mart sells them. This saddens me - baseball cards were my introduction to baseball literature, they were how I grew to love the game itself (not just the Mets), but now a generation of children are growing up without this resource.
Labels:
baseball,
baseball cards,
books,
literature,
Mets by the Numbers,
New York Mets
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