[jchcollins]

Frankly these kinds of stories are another great exmplar of why I never could get into autographs, or I guess move any further towards humanizing my cardboard heroes in the hobby. As a kid in the late 1980's and early 90's, I met both Bob Feller and Duke Snider at card shows in NC and got their autos. (For what it's worth, both of them were nice to me). But for some reason I was always drawn more to the cards and the memories / nostalgia evoked by the era and the pieces of history themselves than the actual players. Sure the players matter, if they didn't I'd be a lot wealthier now chasing down vintage commons than Mantle, Mays, and Clemente cards - but for me for whatever reason I never cared to get that close. I relish the stats and the on-field accomplishments, but realize on some level that they are human when not on the field and I guess it's the knowledge of that possible hearbreak there which kept me from getting any closer. Mantle was alive and doing card shows when I first got into the hobby, but I never pursued that - even back then there were plentiful stories about his ability to be a dick (or just drunken idiot) to everyone too. Like any kid in that era who had a subscription to Beckett - I worshiped the Mick as if he were still playing alongside my 80's heroes, and I can't imagine what that would have been like had I had a bad experience.

This kind of brings up another topic indirectly related to the nostalgia and why we collect - what details "do it for you" exactly? Not to get too personal, but what's behind that dopamine hit when you look at your favorite vintage cards? Is it the players and the type of characters they were? Or is it the era and the sense of time gone by - the kids that may have ripped your cards from their original wax or cello, and what all that must have been like? As a fan of the game first and foremost for me, it will always be about both - but increasingly I like to wonder and marvel about the era and history that surrounded the cards when they were new.