Shut up and take my money! (another card show report)

Here's a question I often ask myself, especially around card show time: am I insecure about how much I spend on baseball cards?

In reality, I know it's not much of an issue. My current job barely pays over minimum wage, but still, what I spend at one card show is what some collectors spend almost daily. But while I never feel bad after a day of big spending (for me, anyways) at the show, I do sometimes wonder: should I have put that money away? Should I have saved it for something else? Should I have put it towards more "adult" things, like groceries or future-apartment savings?

Perhaps all hobbies carry this second-guessing of the self from time to time. In my favor, I've never spent money I didn't have on cards -- I only do it when I have a bit of extra padding in the bank account. I guess it's just been on my mind lately because Dad and I recently went to two shows on two consecutive weekends -- following up that epic Village Hall extravaganza was our traditional trip to the giant tri-annual Convention Hall show a couple Saturdays ago.

And as I found, I decided boosting my savings could wait...especially if it meant I got to buy cards of a dude posing with a giant raptor!

OR A WHOLE TEAM SET OF DUDES POSING WITH A GIANT RAPTOR!

One of the prime vendors at this latest show was a guy whose table looked vaguely like something out of a hoarder's basement. Cards and sets and packs and all kindsa miscellany just strewn around everywhere. And whether you were buying just a single card or a whole set (and about 90 percent of what he had were sealed oddball sets), everything was 50 cents a pop.

Because the card on top showed a guy with a raptor, I had a pretty good feeling that the rest of the shots from this Ogden Raptors team set would be the same. And I was right! I had no clue this kind of thing existed. None of the players featured in the set ever made it to the bigs (they were a Rookie League team), but that doesn't diminish its beauty.

Behind maybe the Mall Cards of Spokane lore, this might be the greatest minor league set ever.

Really this whole table was an absolute minefield of oddballs you almost never see anywhere.

Whole set of Star Hershisers: 50 cents. CMC All-Stars set (with quite a few future stars like Larry Walker & others): 50 cents. Kahn's Mets stadium giveaway set: 50 cents! The list goes on and on.

I may get insecure about my card show spending sometimes, but I should also be proud of myself for not spending more than I very well could have at tables like this one.

Somewhat of a disappointment (but more of a surprise than anything) was the fact that I saw almost zero singles from 2019 sets in the whole convention hall -- boxes and cases, sure, but barely any singles.

Thankfully, I'd already taken care of most of my Heritage needs at the preceding Village Hall show the week before. I should note that one guy did have some Heritage: decade-old Heritage, that is, which was probably more fun to dig through than anything from 2019 just because it reminded me that things have indeed changed since my earlier days of baseball-card collecting.

Manager cards don't exist anymore, and coach cards may as well have existed in another universe altogether: I mostly ignored those coach triads from 2009 Heritage (probably because they're SPs), but that's my first Cubs card of Alan Trammell and Larry Rothschild and Matt Sinatro, all in one swoop.

That same vendor with the Heritage also had a fat stack of Fan Favorites in his dime box, which I don't think I need to elaborate on how awesome that was.

Oddballs remain supreme in my card show experience -- the Reggie was a whole dollar (and totally worth it), and everything else here was a scant dime.

Dime box finds of main player collection dudes, including a rare sighting of Rod Beck with the Red Sox.

Nothing like a card show to remind me there's still a whole lot of mini-collection stuff I need floating out there in the wilderness.

More mini-collection hits from the dime boxes, including a fine shot of Jim Thome going ass-over-teakettle that I'd somehow never seen before.

This blog may not be called Quarter Boxes, but those can be fun too!

Finding a Heritage Rizzo SP for laundry change is pretty much unheard of around here, and hey, I even plucked an autograph of a semi-obscure guy I collect in Terrence Long out of the quarter stacks.

Listen, O card show vendors, you can't throw oddballs like these (especially not a NEW HOYT!) at me for a quarter each and not expect me to bite.

More fun stuff from the dime boxes, including a Reddick from a whole stack of singles from the online-only Turkey Red years I found at one vendor's table -- quite a sight considering you could count the number of ones I previously owned on one hand.

One guy had a selection of Dime Box Shiny to end all Dime Box Shiny -- refractors, numbered cards, and just general bright colors galore (including the first Legend SP diamond parallel I've ever found for a dime with that magnificent Blyleven).

I'm pretty sure this was a quarter box at one point, since a lot of the vendor's other dime boxes were kinda unspectacular -- my budget is eternally thankful for markdown boxes like these.

Here's a few new chapters for my continuing saga of Things I Shouldn't Find in Dime Boxes: low-numbered parallels (of Jeremy Bonderman no less, another semi-obscure dude I collect), All-Star rookies, and even a couple Flagship photo-variations with the Upton & Griffey(!).

I should note that I don't really set budgets for myself at card shows: I basically just bring whatever cash I have and let what I see decide what I'm gonna spend.

These big Convention Hall shows are usually a bit more damaging on my wallet since there's just way more tables, and thus a higher likelihood of stumbling upon stuff I want. I meant to take more pictures of my travels, but here's a shot from one of the prime vintage vendors in the place, and a regular stop for Dad and I over the years.

Surprise: I spent every dollar I had in my pocket at this show, but is that really any wonder when you have aisles and aisles of tables like these?

While my massive vintage haul at the Village Hall show the week prior was incredible, it was a bit of an anomaly, unexpected.

I expect the Convention Hall to have gobs and gobs of vintage (and accordingly, I also expect to set aside more of my money for it). The dime boxes are terrific, but the vintage makes it an event. Now, I didn't really buy a big card this time, but that doesn't make it a disappointment: I simply didn't see anything that I felt warranted a splurge. On the contrary, I thought this latest trip provided a more well-rounded haul than I usually get.

I managed to check off a card I've long had on my radar with this '67 Yaz (his Triple Crown year), and it tied for my most expensive purchase of the day at a whopping eight bucks.

This is why I love Convention Hall Shows: here's THREE cards from my "Keep Dreaming" list (Burdette, Robinson, and Aaron), and one (Rose) that was a future candidate for that list, all in one scan.

The Burdette & Robinson came from the BARGAINS BARGAINS BARGAINS table I showed the picture of earlier. Like the Yaz, the Robinson is a historic card from Robbie's Triple Crown year (although his only cost me four bucks). The Burdette is the only card I've seen of him as a Cardinal and a dreaded high-number, though it didn't end up commanding a high-number price (just $3!).

The Aaron was the last piece I needed to complete that subset from '74 Topps (also three bucks), and the Rose was a just plain fine card I've never seen at a good price until now, mine for a five-spot.

You ever come across something at a show and say: How in the heck do I not already have this?

That's how I felt when I saw both of these, and I managed to put that shame to bed for just two bucks a piece.

I was powerless in resisting a '60 Spahn for five bucks, and the Mazeroski was highway robbery from a 50-cent bin.

Also from said 50-cent bin came these two beautiful '56s -- still a steal even with the corners chopped off, I think.

One of the newer siphons on my card show budget has been picking up nice vintage shots for the frankenset, ones I previously ignored since they don't feature binder guys.

Thankfully, they can usually be had for next to nothing, as these four combined cost as much as a pack of Opening Day -- that classic '77 Tanana in particular has been a thorn in my side, and my dad can attest to how excited I was to finally find a copy in a dime box.

Here's something you don't see every day: Topps Venezuelans!

These also came from the BARGAINS guy, and I owned exactly one vintage Topps Venezuelan before this show. The Campy was a shocking two-dollar find since all the other '66 Venezuelans the guy had were of no-namers. And yes, the '67 Staub was indeed torn in half at one point in its life (it's currently held together by a flimsy piece of tape), but that didn't stop me from dropping a paltry dollar on it.

But the question remains: why would anyone tear a baseball card in half? -- or better yet, how did a card once torn in half wind up resurfacing at a card show more than 50 years later?

These two rapscallions are not what they seem.

The classic Fisk is an OPC, and the Andujar is my very first single from the little-known '78 Topps Zest set -- it's just five cards strong and features all Hispanic players (note the Spanish on the back).

Only recently did I learn that Zest is actually a brand of soap, which makes it even weirder that they once produced baseball cards.

In my excitement I forgot to snap a picture of the whole box of 50-cent Hostess one guy had on display, which disappoints me because I feel like I have to prove that a 50-cent box filled with literally hundreds of Hostess singles actually existed.

Believe me or not, but I'm telling you it did: stars like Reggie and Seaver and even Craig Nettles (sic) made an appearance, and I really couldn't give the vendor my money fast enough.

That same guy also had a few large stacks of Kellogg's for sale as well: most of the better ones were priced at more than 50 cents, though I did get that neat Bostock for a mere couple of quarters.

The Catfish was the most expensive card of the lot at three dollars ('73 Kellogg's never looks right when shown next to its contemporaries), and everything else here was just a buck or two.

This show built on regulars, but I also always seem to find a new vendor or two with good stuff on display.

One guy had a big tub filled with discount vintage scattered all around, and I managed to nab the Post Flood and Jello Throneberry for a buck a piece -- and I can now tell the difference between Post/Jello thanks to a few commenters on my last card show post.

At five bucks a pop, these rare oddballs out of the vintage tub were among the pricier purchases of the day.

I initially passed on buying the '64 Stand-Up Powell, but I later realized my mistake and walked back across the entire convention hall to buy it. Thankfully nobody'd capitalized on my stupidity in the meantime, and the Powell was still safe and sound in the tub.

And while I don't usually go out of my way to collect baseball card stamps, I also don't usually see stamps of The Immortal Hoyt up for grabs -- this one hails from a Golden Stamps set issued in 1955(!).

Closing things out was a longtime Holy Grail of mine, a '61 Topps Billy Williams rookie which, for eight dollars, tied the aforementioned '67 Yaz as the most expensive pickup of the day.

As I said, I have no regrets about spending what I spent at this show, and my total damage was a drop in the bucket compared to what I see most people throw around at this show and others. But as the years of adulthood go by, I find myself thinking more and more about money (usually the lack of it) whether I like it or not. I suppose it comes with the passage of time.

But as I grow older, as I see more commercials, as I unbox stuff at my job, as I walk through the back aisles of Target, I also realize that there are far, far worse things I could be spending my money on than baseball cards.