My close friend/card rival when I was in primary school was a guy named Michael. We competed to find troves of vintage cards around Manhattan. He collected Clemente, I collected Mays, who I started to idolize at age 8 when he returned to NY to play for the Mets. My uncle took me to Shea once to see the great man and I got to see Lou Brock play too. With the help of the ASCCA show in 1976 I put together a run of every Topps Mays card. I remember turning down a 1951 Bowman at the show saying "I don't collect those." I had the Mays cards until I was in my twenties. I soured on Mays later in life, once I met the man at a show. I was very excited to meet him, of course, boyhood idol and all, so I carefully rehearsed what I was going to say when I was finally in the presence of the great man. I said my piece, Mays didn't even acknowledge me, just rolled my baseball across the table to the handler like he was shooing a cockroach from his dinner plate. I was so disappointed in that non-interaction that I sold off my entire Mays collection, 1952-1973, including the autographed ball [which I'd had Mantle and Snider sign too]. For years I refused to own a Mays card. I've made peace with the Say Nothing Kid since then--you gotta have Mays in a baseball card collection--but the idolization was dead the moment I left his presence.
Which brings me to Hank Aaron, the second player I decided to collect. I remember Aaron's quest for the record in the early 1970s. I was too young and too innocent to understand the social and racial ugliness that existed around the edges of the quest; all I knew was that Henry Aaron ["OH! Henry!" as the candy commercial said] was the greatest baseball player around, especially after 1973 when Mays was gone. I was so thrilled to pull an Aaron card from a pack, something I did in 1971-72-73-74-75-76, and had so much fun chasing down the record-holding cards in 1973 and the Hank Aaron Special series in 1974. I put together a complete run of his Topps cards as a kid in 1977. My respect for the man and his accomplishments has done nothing but grow over the years, especially after I read his autobiography and realized what he had to endure in 1973-74 when he neared 714. And best of all, when I got to meet him, Mr. Aaron was every bit the kind gentleman I'd expected him to be.
Figured I'd toss out a few oddball items I enjoy:
My autograph; got it in person:
Nice to have the souvenir ticket with it so I know when and where I got it.