The fate of dime boxes

One of the reasons I'm anxious to start doing card stuff again is because I'm interested to see what shows look like in The Flipper Era.

Specifically, I'm looking forward to seeing the fate of my beloved dime boxes. Early reports from others on present-day shows have almost all confirmed what I'd feared: most vendors are eschewing the cheap cardboard in favor of the fancy high-dollar stuff. Dime boxes are becoming as rare as the hits people seem to be chasing. And from a purely monetary standpoint, I can't say I blame those vendors - with limited table space, why display that dime box of weird niche '90s stuff when you can bring another glass case of $100 cards?

From a collecting standpoint, however, this is obviously disappointing news. To me, dime boxes are the lifeblood of card shows. It's not that I'm hell-bent on finding "deals" left and right - I buy expensive stuff sometimes, too - it's just that cheap cards are where I get the most sheer pleasure out of the card show experience. The feeling of seeing those white boxes with thousands of cards inside them is unmatched anywhere else, the thought that anything could be in there. It's magical.

And I don't know about you, but when I see a table with glass cases and nothing else, I almost always walk right on by, because I know I'm not going to want and/or be able to afford anything in there.

At this point, I'm targeting next month's monthly local show as the Grand Return, and needless to say I'm going in with a great deal of excitement, and a twinge of nervousness.

I'm not so much worried that people are going to start charging a dollar a pop for cards that are otherwise dime box fodder. I bet that's gonna happen, too, but the solace there is that I at least know there'll always be someone out there who's pricing stuff like a normal, sane-thinking person. I don't think for a minute that dime box-loving collectors will ever go extinct, or anything close to it. I just get worried our voices will be drowned out by the almighty dollar.

But maybe that's an irrational thought, because as I've detailed many times on the blog in the past year, baseballcardstore.ca (or The Online Dime Box) has been a saving grace for cheap cards in this strange era, and I received yet another order from them a couple weeks ago.

There's a certain sense of peace in knowing there's a whole site of dime boxes out there for us low-end collectors, a place that, best I can tell, is still going strong.

In addition to everything I've shown so far, I grabbed this quartet of '80s greats that flew under my radar this whole time - that U.L. Washington joins an extremely short list of cards featuring toothpicks.

This Online Dime Box order saw me perusing the inventory a few different specific sets, rather than just pure all-out randomness.

Most people seem to agree on the greatness of '93 Leaf - especially given the inclusion of arguably the greatest card backs of the modern era.

'95 Pinnacle is a set that seems to keep spawning great cards I've never seen before, even though I feel like I've gone through this checklist ten times over by now.

The 1992 Bowman Fashion Show - cards so bad I want to collect every darn one.

Like any good dime box, oddballs are a fun delicacy, and that stretches into virtual dime box land too.

I still feel a little weird about putting playing cards next to Topps and Donruss in my binders, but in they go - also I'd forgotten Twizzlers once made baseball cards.

I'm always here for minor league cards of my binder guys.

Famous dudes wearing wrong uniforms - I still don't quite believe Dante Bichette ever played for the Reds.

It's a bit daunting to collect guys like Tony Gwynn and Kenny Lofton, given the spans of their careers spanned the era when there were like 87 different card companies each producing 932 sets every year.

Still, on the bright side of things, that means there'll always, always be cards of them to chase, like these two new ones that popped up on the Online Dime Box (Kenny Lofton Pirates sighting!).

Fun new hits for a few of my up-and-coming player collections.

Each passing Online Dime Box order seems to add new stuff to some of my most obscure player collections, which is nice since it's not every day I get to add stuff to my page of Gookie Dawkins cards.

The mini-collections keep on coming.

PSA: I'm still very much a fan of minis and other bite-sized baseball cards, and will always take them for a dime.

A few other random knick-knacks from the Online Dime Box - and no, I have no idea who Saburo is, but if you throw a BBM card at me for a dime, I'm gonna buy it. 

A bunch of easy dime buys here - I remember opening a ton of Turkey Red with a card-collecting friend back in 8th grade, and we'd go absolutely nuts waiting to see what red or other-colored parallel we'd get in each pack.

Dudes bunting, a Graduate shot, and other generally fun horizontal heroes.

Just to be clear: I'm definitely excited to attend post-vaccine card shows again, and I'm already dreaming about that fateful day of the first one, whenever that may be.

It's just that, at the risk of sounding whiny, I liked how shows were before, and I really don't want that to change. As much as I complained about bros or unpriced cards or other general card show annoyances before, I always felt there were enough cheap cards for me and glass-case stuff for others to keep both parties happy. And I want those scales to stay balanced. I want my physical dime boxes back to go along with the joys of the virtual world. I don't think that's asking too much.

Because a world with dime boxes is a better place, plain and simple.

Vaccinated

Good news from Dime Box HQ: yours truly is fully vaccinated!

I'm obviously glad to be vaccinated, but with the stressful firestorm that the last year has been, I feel more relief than anything else. I'll also freely admit that one of my first thoughts as I was driving home the other day was: hey, I can do card things again! I don't even remember the last pre-COVID card show I went to, and the excitement at the possibility of going to one came flooding back to me in that moment. 

But even though a couple local shows have started to open up again, I had to catch myself and say let's wait a little bit. I don't wanna immediately jump back into huge gatherings right away, because there's still risks and responsibilities in post-vaccination life. The flea market around here is re-opening this week, and for now I'm planning on shooting for that since it's outdoors. Apart from that I think I'm still a month or two away from truly feeling comfortable at a card show, or large enclosed spaces in general. (Still planning on the National this summer!)

But even without card shows, there still hasn't been a lack of incoming card excitement around here, by any means - take the above '69 Topps Willie Mays I randomly won in a contest from Kevin of "The Diamond King" blog, a card that just so happened to also be on my Keep Dreaming want list, too!

I also requested this fun quartet of Score Superstars from Bo of "Baseball Cards Come to Life!" recently, all of which hit various player- and mini-collections of mine.

(Is it wrong that I get just as much enjoyment out of my Billy Ripken cards as my Cal Ripken Jr. cards?)

Blogging legend Mr. Fuji of "The Chronicles of Fuji" was nice enough to help me out in a big way with my 2020 A&G wants, which was nice because I seem to buy less A&G retail with each passing year.

Fuji also helped me out with a couple A&G insert needs, and I'm especially fond of that Luis Tiant since he's criminally underrepresented in the world of modern baseball cards.

I've also had a steady stream of surprise PWEs show up from longtime friend of the blog gcrl of "cards as i see them" fame, one of which featured this nifty Dustin Pedroia double dip off my Dime Box Dozen list.

As is the plague that afflicts many card collectors, I owned a mini of this one without having the standard base card, and I just couldn't abide that.

A couple big surprises here - not sure if that's a real signature on the Wally Moon, but even if not it's a cool card of the Mighty Unibrow I didn't already have.

Also even though Senior League mostly became a short-lived footnote in baseball history, I love that their baseball cards were high-quality enough to feature fancy multiple-exposure shots.

I never did see a single pack of 2020 Topps Fire at any of my local Targets - not a huge tragedy, but I probably would've bought some if I had.

Thankfully people like gcrl were luckier on that front, and decided to spread the wealth - the Kemp is especially welcome since it's a zero-year card that somehow got the green light from Topps, as he never played a single game with the Marlins.

Another envelope I recently received from gcrl suggested he'd done a deep dive through my want lists - don't get to cross off many cards from my 2018 Topps Big League needs these days.

It was such a deep want-list dive, in fact, that he found cards I forgot were even on there in the first place - I have absolutely no recollection of creating lists for these.

Gotta love when that happens.

Greg of the legendary "Night Owl Cards" blog also sent me a stack of cardboard out of the blue recently.

No card shows means less current cards coming off my want lists, but thankfully people like Greg have been nice enough to help me whittle those needs down bit by bit.

Greg also sent one of the more puzzling items I've ever received in a trade package - a laminated baseball card.

On the left is the weathered '62 Santo that's been in my collection for many moons now, and while it's tough to tell from the scan, the card on the right is indeed laminated(!). Never once have I ever thought to laminate my baseball cards, and I can't help but wonder why someone else would. I found myself in a bit of a conundrum deciding which copy to keep.

In the end, I decided to hang on to the beat-up Santo since I've had it for so long, but I thank Greg for allowing me the odd pleasure of holding a laminated baseball card in my hands.

A million bonus points to Greg for sending me a Kellogg's card I needed with this spiffy Griffey Sr. 3-D beauty.

(How long until we have to start saying things like Fernando Tatis Sr., or Vladimir Guerrero Sr.?)

I claimed a nice little lot of minor league cards as part of an anniversary giveaway from Gregory of the "Nine Pockets" blog.

This design....well, isn't the best, but I always love getting minor league stuff of guys I collect - yes, I still want your Allen Craig cards even though he fell off the face of the earth sometime around 2015.

Finally comes a quick two-card envelope I received from local blogger Tom of "Waiting 'til Next Year," someone I'd like to meet in-person at a local show sometime in post-COVID life.

We've exchanged a number of cards and packages through the mail over the years despite not living terribly far from one another, and Tom floored me by tracking down this tough Donnie Baseball Gypsy Queen SP off my Keep Dreaming list, which is an especially glorious hit for my interview mini-collection.

I don't know what I was expecting when I saw that package from Tom on my doorstep, but I certainly didn't think I'd see a 1963 Topps Al Kaline in there!

It's understandable that I'd want to start planning my post-COVID schedule the minute the vaccination needle dried, but again, I have to remind myself there's absolutely no rush here. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, yes, but still a ways to go before things are truly back to normal. Anything to keep me from fantasizing too much about those sacred dime boxes and discount vintage. In due time, Nick.

But I can't really call the COVID era a dry spell for my collection, not when people are sending me '63 Al Kalines and stuff.

Daunting

Sometimes, if my brain insists on torturing me, I start to realize how daunting collecting baseball cards can be.

There is a very basic concept at the heart of collecting these weird rectangles: I will never own every single card I want. Nor will I probably even come close. My collection will never be complete, and that's about 1,000 times more true given the array of different things I'm interested in. This is a given in the collecting world, and most of the time, it doesn't bother me - in fact, it makes the thrill of the chase even more delicious. There will always be something out there I want. That's awesome.

But then sometimes I get a package like the one I recently received from Bob of "The Best Bubble" that shows how much great stuff is still floating out there in the card universe, right under my nose, which in turn makes me remember the scores of other gems I might never discover, and gets my stomach churning.

Broken bats are a mini-collection of mine, and it always seemed to me I have a harder time finding them than, say, cards of guys signing autographs, or plays at the plate.

But then someone like Bob sends along not one, not two, but five new broken bats for my binders - including one of an upper-tier player collection with the '95 Leaf Mo Vaughn.

To even think of securing all the cards featuring one of my mini-collections is daunting enough - much less the dozen-ish different themes I'm currently going after.

Also I learned that autograph shot is from an all-Kevin Maas oddball set that I could've easily gone the rest of my life without knowing about - also an all-Kevin Maas set is such a classic bit of overproduction-era absurdity.

In this lifetime, I can only hope to get a fraction of a percent of all the Cubs cards I'll ever need, but thankfully my trading buddies are helping me get closer to reaching that fraction.

Shiny stuff is always a hit with me.

A few other randoms from Bob, including a Red Sox Bambino sighting and a cool Olympic Jim Abbott card I'd never seen until now.

Also I think that Shannon Elizabeth is from a basketball set, but I figured it warranted a cameo here.

Minor league stuff might be the most daunting of all baseball cards, mainly because there's so many of them out there you never see made by Burger King and the gazillions of other strange, wonderful brands.

These two from Bob do a good job of showing one of the more consistently pleasing parts of minor league cards - outfield wall ads!

It still floors me how often I receive cards that totally stump me - I have absolutely no idea what these are, but I sure like 'em.

It's one thing to imagine all the cards I know I need that are still out there, but it's another thing altogether to think about all the stuff I don't even know exists in the first place (if that makes any sense).

Budget also plays a big role in the sometimes-daunting nature of baseball cards - I just don't have the money to secure a lot of the big vintage cards I want, and I doubt I ever will (unless someone wants to just send me a '59 Bob Gibson or something).

I do, however, make do with what I can, and I certainly won't ask questions like Who is Herman Wehmeier? when someone like Bob sends me something from '53 Topps out of the blue. In better times I realize I'll find what I find in this collecting lifetime, and have fun doing it. It's dangerous to think of collecting in terms of an end game. Every time I'm lucky enough to welcome a new card into my collection is an absolute joy. Knowing there's no end in sight to my world of baseball cards is a thrill. A perpetual thrill.

Collecting cards should never be daunting, and in those moments of weakness where I start to believe the opposite, I'm quick to tell my brain to just shut up, please.

The One-Team...Team

As much as I enjoy the delightful world of Short Term Stops, and joke about guys who played for nine different teams, I still have a deep admiration for those select few players who spent their entire careers with one, single franchise.

I started watching baseball around 1998 or so, and ever since then, the only version of the game I know is the one that periodically features guys jumping teams every year or two. I'm a bit ashamed at how regularly I see a highlight or something these days and go Oh yeah, I forgot he was on [insert team here]. Not surprisingly, I can count the number of notable players in my generation who've spent their entire careers with the same team on one hand. For better or worse, the game isn't structured that way anymore.

For this reason (and because I don't need any excuse to create more themed rosters) I've decided to put together the ultimate lineup of single-franchise greats - for lack of a better name, the One-Team...Team.

Starting Pitchers

Walter Johnson (Washington Senators -- 1907-1927)

Of course, the uncomfortable underbelly of glorifying these one-team guys is that the majority of them basically didn't have a choice - the reserve clause bound them to their original franchise until that team decided to cut them loose.

We'll never know if Walter Johnson really wanted to spend his whole 21-year career with the Senators, a team that was a perennial bottom-feeder for most of those years - I'd guess not.

Bob Feller (Cleveland Indians -- 1936-1941, 1946-1956)

Bob Feller's career was fractured by a four-year stint in the military, but from his debut as a 17-year-old rookie in 1936 to his age-37 season in '56, every single one of his 18 big-league seasons was spent in Cleveland.

With the way the game works today, it's admittedly hard to wrap my head around a guy like Feller spending two whole decades with just one team.

Relief Pitcher

Mariano Rivera (New York Yankees -- 1995-2013)

It's rare to see a relief pitcher spend his entire career with one franchise - bullpen help is an especially volatile commodity these days, and every time I look up it seems like a closer is playing for his seventh different team.

It's a testament to Mariano Rivera's greatness, however, that the most dominant reliever the game might ever see spent all 19 years of his big-league life in the famous Yankee pinstripes - a career that spanned the height of the free-agent era, no less.

Catcher

Johnny Bench (Cincinnati Reds -- 1967-1983)

A staple of the famous Big Red Machine, Johnny Bench spent his entire 17-year career with the Reds, even up until the twilight years when most catchers are (sadly) forced to weather those ghastly dual-position listings on their baseball cards.

First Base

Willie Stargell (Pittsburgh Pirates -- 1962-1982)

Willie Stargell spent an astounding 21 straight seasons with the Pirates, and few, if any, players endeared himself more to his adopted home than Pops.

Like all the players on this team, it's pretty much impossible to imagine them in any other uniform - but it's especially difficult to picture Stargell in anything else than that iconic Pittsburgh gold.

Second Base

Craig Biggio (Houston Astros -- 1988-2007)

There's a variety of reasons why you just don't see many one-franchise guys these days, which makes the scant present-day great who does spend their career with a single team stand out even more.

Todd Helton and the recently-retired Dustin Pedroia are a couple who come to mind out of that rare modern breed. Craig Biggio's another - though the positions he played varied greatly, he spent his entire 20-year career with the Astros. As great as Biggio was, I always seem to forget he's part of the 3,000-hit club, and that he's in the Hall of Fame. It's hard to imagine guys you grew up watching as part of such elite royalty.

With the way the market works these days, it's almost impossible to predict any future one-team guys (Yadier Molina? Buster Posey?), but I hope Biggio, Helton, etc. aren't the absolute last of a dying breed.

Shortstop

Ernie Banks (Chicago Cubs -- 1953-1971)

It would've been criminal for a guy nicknamed "Mr. Cub" to play for any other team, and I'm glad we never had to endure that.

Third Base

Brooks Robinson (Baltimore Orioles -- 1955-1977)

Third base is a hot corner for one-team legends - George Brett! Chipper Jones! Mike Schmidt! - but Brooks Robinson remains the easy king here.

Only one other player (who we'll see in a bit) has spent as many seasons with a single franchise, and it's hard to imagine we'll ever see anything close to Brooks Robinson's 23(!) consecutive seasons with the Orioles - a feat so great it even got its own Topps baseball card!

Outfield

Stan Musial (St. Louis Cardinals -- 1941-1944, 1946-1963)

Like Bob Feller, Stan Musial's career was interrupted by the military, but Musial's pre- and post-service years were spent exclusively with the Cardinals.

Even though he'll forever be a legend in St. Louis, I'm not sure Stan the Man knew the meaning of Home Field Advantage - of his 3,630 career hits, exactly 1,815 came at home...and exactly 1,815 came on the road.

Al Kaline (Detroit Tigers -- 1953-1974)

Al Kaline and Stan Musial both spent all 22 seasons of their careers with single teams, which is tied for second (with Mel Ott) for second on that list.

As already mentioned, the top spots on that list go to Brooks Robinson and...

Carl Yastrzemski (Boston Red Sox -- 1961-1983)

...Yaz!

Each and every one of Carl Yastrzemski's 3,308 career games came in a Boston Red Sox uniform across his hallowed 23-year career, far and away the most of any single-franchise player (easily besting Brooks Robinson's 2,896 games with the Orioles). There's a strong argument to be made that no player cemented himself in his team's history more than Yaz did with the Red Sox. The physical numbers and emotional history are both there.

I'd also take good odds that we'll never see Yaz's kind of one-team longevity again - players' careers don't really last that long anymore, and even if they did, it's quite unlikely they'd be able (or want) to spend those years with a single franchise.

Designated Hitter

Edgar Martinez (Seattle Mariners -- 1987-2004)

Designated Hitter is a tricky position for a team like this - most DHs usually come about due to age and/or diminishing ability, which makes said DHs more likely to jump teams as their careers wane.

If it weren't for Edgar Martinez, the DH spot would be a big fat TBD on this list, because I can't find another DH who spent his entire career with one franchise. While he originally came up with the Mariners as a third baseman, Martinez evolved into a DH fairly early on in his career, and became arguably the best to ever play the position.

I'm still not the biggest fan of the DH, but if it gave us fans more of a chance to enjoy the hitting artistry of guys like Edgar Martinez, then I guess it can't be all bad.

Manager

Connie Mack (Philadelphia A's -- 1901-1950)

I figured a team like this needs a good manager - and Connie Mack seems like a logical choice since he managed the A's for 50 CONSECUTIVE YEARS.

Asterisk #1: Mack was a player-manager for the Pirates from 1894-96, but I'm only counting his manager-exclusive years here. Asterisk #2: Mack also owned the A's, so it's not like he was ever gonna fire himself. But still...to think of a guy managing one team, and only that team, for a half-century is just mind-boggling. Imagine a manager getting hired in 1971 and managing all the way up until, well, now and you get the idea of how insane that feat is. He's the right man to lead such a prestigious squad.

Fast-forward 50 years, and we'll see what kind of roster we'll be fielding for the 2071 One-Team Team - just don't be surprised if Connie Mack is still out there, leading the charge from the dugout steps, suit-and-tied and smiling.