I’m going to go on a bit of a rant here. I don’t necessarily like doing so but I’ve heard the same comments so much in the last 3 weeks, I can’t help myself. I’ll try to go ahead and get it out of my system and hit you with some nice Junk Wax Photos along the way as a peace offering.
I had the fortune/misfortune of going somewhat viral on Tik Tok with a video of myself opening up a pack of 1987 Topps Baseball. Of course, I was looking for Bo, McGwire, and Bonds. If you collected then, you know why.
I don’t necessarily try to go viral with anything because it comes with both good and bad. I just make fun little videos about sports and cards and usually live with my 10 likes or so. But the combination of wood grain and yacht rock seems to have hit home with the Tik Tok algorithm. As of today, the video is sitting on 828k views, I’ve gained 7,500 followers and picked up 20k likes; all in a few weeks.
I’ll say up front that the overwhelming majority of comments have been pleasant and I’ve enjoyed the successful run of the video. I’ve had players’ relatives, former team photographers, and even former Creed frontman Scott Stapp commenting or liking the post. I’ve also made a few collector buddies and followed several back who have great content.
But there are a few comments that I have received over and over and over.
- “You know those packs are resealed right?” I am aware that packs from the 80’s and 90’s can very easily be resealed. But I paid less than $30 for a full cello box and pulled two Bonds, McGwire, and Canseco. I did ok.
- “Those aren’t real packs. Those cards came in wax packs!” Again, I am aware of how Topps released cards in the late 80’s. There were in fact wax packs. But there were also Cellos and Rack Packs. These were cellos.
- “Why are you looking for those cheaters?” Well, I’m a nostalgic guy. Those were the cards that I wanted when I was a kid. Those are the cards I’m going to look for in 2021. I’ll look again in 2051 if I find some packs. I never even liked Bonds. But if I can pull his 87 Rookie, I’m happy.
- “Everybody already has those cards. LOL” First off, nothing pushes my passive aggressive button faster than an LOL at the end of a statement that really wasn’t intended to make you laugh. But I have the cards too. Look at my timeline. I’m not some guy just randomly opening 1987 baseball cards hoping to pull those rookies for the first time. It’s just supposed to be fun!
- “The gum is more valuable than the cards in that pack.” Last but not least, this gem. I am WELL AWARE that a raw Bo Jackson RC is worth about $3. But this is my biggest pet peeve as a proponent of the Junk Wax Era. I don’t collect these cards because of their perceived worth. I know their monetary value but their worth varies from person to person.
This brings me to why we are here today. It’s time to stop telling other people what their cards are worth. Anybody with a smartphone can look up the value of a baseball card and see what the market thinks. But through 15 packs of 1987 Topps; nobody got a bigger pop in the comment section than Cory Snyder. It’s not because it was valued at $50. It’s because it was a player and a name that was universally recognized by collectors from that era.
One thing I’ve tried to repeat in some form or fashion over the last 18 months is to collect what you like. Yes, Prizm Blasters are $100. That doesn’t mean you need to go out and spend that kind of money to be a part of the rush. There are people who weren’t even basketball collectors that jumped into it because it was all over the Twitter timeline so surely it was something that couldn’t be missed.
I do buy modern. I don’t pay secondary market prices. I’m not saying I’m better than you if you do. I’m saying that goes against why I collect. And yes, I love to pull a big card that I might be able to sell to fund more of my collection. But the gamble isn’t worth paying someone else a premium because they got to the shelf faster in my opinion. Again, this is about me.
I collect because it was such a part of my childhood. We lose a lot of connections with our childhood. For me; video stores are all gone, Nintendo games are dust in the wind, my childhood athletes have retired, I’ve grown apart from my childhood friends, and all I have left are the memories. And baseball cards.
Therein lies the worth for me when it comes to 1987 Topps, 1988 Fleer, 1989 Donruss, and countless others. Those cards haven’t changed a bit in over 30 years. The players are the same, the errors are still there, and even the smell of the gum is still sweet. The taste, not so much. Those are tangible memories that I can hold in my hand. And the memory is not just about “Bo Jackson”. It’s about where I was, who I was friends with, and what life was like when I held that card in my hand for the first time.
Baseball cards remind me of a simpler time. I didn’t have a power bill in 1989. I didn’t have a car payment, insurance, or a job. I didn’t have a single person’s life and safety I was responsible for back then. I was somebody else’s responsibility. Times change and the world progresses; those are accepted facts. But I never want to lose touch with who I was and the events that led me to be who I would become.
I don’t want to lose memories of middle school playground trades, exchanging video games with friends, playing ball in the front yard, going fun places with my family, or weekend sleepovers filled with horror movies and Mountain Dew. Those things are childish and immature. But even though I’m 44, I will always have that 13 year old sports crazed, video game lover deep down in my soul. With all of my might, I want to keep a piece of that forever.
The way I do that is baseball cards. Plain and simple. If I see a pack of 1991 Donruss for .25 at an antique store, there’s no way I’m passing it up. The only card in the pack may be a Ray Lankford Rated Rookie but it will take me back instantly. So it is worth it to me; whether you think so or not.
It has been well established that cards from 1987-1994 (roughly) are overproduced. They are cheap to buy. They are still readily available. Most collectors already have them or had them. And no, you won’t be able to retire on your Gregg Jefferies Rookies. I’ve come to terms with all of this. But you really can’t put a price on their worth in my opinion.
Just like your grandfather’s old handkerchief might just be a handkerchief to others. It means something to you because it represents something of meaning. My childhood has meaning. The people in my life during that time have meaning. The memories I created have meaning. And the 1988 Ozzie Smith Starting Lineup card has meaning.
So the next time you see someone enjoying some Junk Wax that you think is (and in fact may be) “worthless”; just keep it to yourself. There is a reason they are doing it. It’s their reason. If you don’t enjoy it, that’s fine. But you don’t have to be the internet hero that you’re trying to be. You’re not breaking news that 1987 Topps doesn’t carry much monetary value. But sometimes, a memory is worth way more than the card itself.
J-Dub