Baseball Cards and Washington D.C. - Can You Feel My Pain?
Ok, I’m aging myself now, but I don’t have much choice. Back in 1962, my brother and his friends began collecting baseball cards. Of course, I wanted to collect them, too. I didn’t know much about baseball teams, but I’ve always been one to support the underdog, so I chose the Washington Senators. Never heard of them? There’s a good reason why not. They stank. I was too young to know that Washington D.C. produced a lot of stink and disappointment, so I stuck with my team. We kids would go to the local store, buy our bubble gum, and gather round each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, taking turns opening our packets. Then the trading began. With cries of derision, my brother and his friends would hold a Senators card between two fingers, lest the bad luck migrate from the ink to them by osmosis, and trade with me. I probably traded some pretty good cards for the sake of my team, judging by the looks of joy on their faces as I handed them a card.
The Senators were kind of a goofy looking lot. (Another perennial D.C. theme.) I remember one player sported steel rimmed glasses, right out of the 1930s. Never having seen them play, I didn’t know if he wore them on the field, so I worried a bit about those glasses getting hit by a baseball or falling off, but I figured he knew his business. Yet another misconception about all things D.C.
Tired of the cards, I offered them in turn to several neighborhood kids, but their refined sensibilities were offended by my generosity. Eventually, I found a taker, who seemed happy to get them. You know, an acquisitive type. He’s probably in Congress right now.
About a year ago or so, I was watching Antiques Roadshow. Now you know what I’m going to say. Yes, someone had the entire Washington Senators team baseball cards. And they are rare for obvious reasons. And they are valuable. I can’t remember how much they were worth. Amnesia is common after horrible events, and the ubiquitous they say the memory returns eventually, but mine hasn’t.
In the final analysis, I guess I should have known that dealing with things D.C. was going to cost me. But I was so young and innocent back then. Weren’t we all?