Hi, I'm Nick, and I'm addicted to dime boxes

At what point does a hobby become an addiction?

Is it when your hobby starts to impede on your physical and mental space? Is it when you find yourself thinking about your hobby in times where there is absolutely nothing to remind you of it (work, car rides, etc.)? Is it when you start trying to quiet the little voice in your head telling you to spend time and/or money on your hobby, time and/or money you'd rather save for something else? Is it when that little voice starts winning?

Or is it merely when you become conscious of the fact that you're doing all these things?

I don't know.

I do know that I've often had to ask myself all those questions I just listed in relation to my baseball card hobby -- specifically my love for dime boxes -- and I know that I've answered YES to each and every one of them at one point or another.

If there was one holdout on the idea that what I had wasn't an addiction, it was the fact that it was the sheer physical experience of dime boxes was what I craved as much as the cards themselves: the sight of the big white box, the feel of the cards in my hands, the anything-can-happen mystery of it all.

But now I don't even have that anymore.

If you're on Twitter, you may have noticed the recent influx of virtual dime box sales, specifically the gigantic ones held by blogger-turned-tweeter Brian (formerly of "Play at the Plate" fame, a blog I remember well from my early days around here). And if you partook, perhaps you may have also noticed another common customer purchasing heaps of stuff from a lot of those posts: me.

Whether it's devotion or addiction, the sheer magnitude of this somewhat scan-heavy post should speak to the quality and quantity of Brian's sales, and my enthusiasm for them.

Virtual dime boxing comes with its own series of emotions: the joy of seeing something you need and scanning the comments with glee to see that no one has yet claimed it, the agony of seeing someone beat you to the punch on something else (the latter often accompanied by muttering and self-loathing).

Thankfully no one snatched these two mini-collection hits from my grasp.

But virtual dime boxing shares one facet of the standard dime box experience that's starting to convince me I'm sucked into an addiction more than a simple hobby: the fact that I sometimes buy cards I already have.

The Vlad was indeed a new addition to my ever-growing player collection of his, and I was ecstatic to receive the Ichiro...until I checked my binders and woefully discovered that it was a double all along.

Addiction or not, it's just plain fun finding good deals on stuff I want, and I thank Brian wholeheartedly for letting these rookies go for a dime a pop.

I'll always pounce on mascots for dimes, and I'm shocked to discover that that's actually my first card of the Racing Sausages (not pictured: Randall Simon).

Like any good dime box vendor, Brian also has a few higher-priced items on the side to help generate some extra cash, because rarely do you see a seller with dime cards and nothing else.

This Judge was a "high-end" pickup at a whole dollar, but well worth it to put a much needed card of a big name to rest.

These two shiny beauties were 50 cents a pop, and the fact that I still collect Kosuke Fukudome might be another indication that I have an addiction.

At a certain point, I had to watch my wallet in relation to Brian's sales.

I do what I can to stick to a budget in this hobby/addiction, and I try not to let that budget get too far out of hand -- but most of that went out the window when I saw that Brian was having a second sale after that first one.

Because you can't really expect me to pass on more dime cards, can you?

Especially when I have the chance to pick up some latest and greatest cardboard for dimes without having to buy a single overpriced pack of the stuff, like Bowman Platinum.

Everything here was a dime aside from the Gleyber Torres (50 cents), a card I wanted because it doesn't actually feature Gleyber Torres at all.

More mini-collection hits, though the Jackie Robinson is my favorite of this bunch by a wide margin.

I never thought I'd say this, but we really need more vintage football and basketball designs on our baseball cards.

Legends, including a new Mets Nolan Ryan card that I'm astounded I'd never seen before.

Okay Nick, I told myself, you've had your fun, but seriously, you're trying to save money right now, so let's just try and sit out this third dime sale, yes?

NEVER!

Of course, I ended up succumbing to the perils of Brian's third dime sale, because how the heck am I gonna resist picking up parallels of top-tier dudes I collect for pocket change?

Mini-collection hits abound in Brian's sales, and I added a new quartet to the binders with this group here.

With addiction comes irrational thought, such as my odd passion for shiny objects.

Still, despite what it may seem like on the surface, never once did I buy a card I didn't need (or at least thought I needed) from Brian's sales simply because it was cheap: that's kinda been the dividing line for me in the eternal battle between hobby and addiction.

Everything from Racing Sausages to dudes disguising themselves as Gleyber Torres to Mike Piazza in a cloud of dust are cards I know made my baseball card collection better, bit by little bit. But fun as it may be, collecting isn't always prone to rational thought when it comes to time and money. With a hobby comes the need to curb it at times. And I firmly believe I can do that, if needed. So, you see, it's really not an addiction at all.

Oh, by the way, guess what came in the mail today?

Yup: that's a fourth virtual dime box haul from Brian.

Hi, I'm Nick, and I'm new to this whole rehab thing.