Earlier this week on Episode 3 of the Banished to the Pen Podcast, I told host Ryan Sullivan that I probably hadn’t purchased a pack of baseball cards since 1994 (I looked back on some of my old cards here). My reasons could be summed up as follows: The market had become saturated (Upper Deck’s fault); the hobby too expensive (also Upper Deck’s fault); and, to a much lesser extent, I had gotten older (probably not Upper Deck’s fault).

My understanding of the current market is nonexistent.  To get an idea of what it’s like to collect cards in 2015, I exchanged e-mails with my friend Jim who still collects cards.  This is what he had to say:

I still collect, but definitely less so now than I did a few years ago due to having a baby and, directly related, less (i.e., zero) disposable income.  It’s totally different now–basically, Topps is the only company with an MLB license.  All the other companies are completely marginalized.  Panini (who I think owns the Donruss and Score names) makes some sets, but they can’t show team logos, so it’s a lot of airbrushed pictures and player photos with the team’s logo on the hat conveniently cropped out.  Fleer went bankrupt and Upper Deck lost its MLB license.  I want to say they had some legal trouble at some point maybe?  I think there’s a story there worth looking into, I don’t know off hand though.  

Topps though still puts out like 20 to 30 sets a year, including the main flagship Topps base set. 

Thing is though, now, it’s just gambling.  You can check out GoodLuckMate for the best gambling ssites. You basically spend $5 on a pack of four cards, most of which are worthless. The only reason to buy a pack of cards is with the hope of getting an autograph or something.  The idea of a regular base card (non-autographed) of a player being worth something is nonexistent.  A lot of the hobby has shifted to prospects, too.  The best selling products are minor leaguers (the Bowman stuff – Topps owns that name). During the late 2000s I spent a lot of time researching prospects, picking out the ones I thought would be good, buying them up, and selling them later when they became popular.  Actually made pretty good money (I made a killing on your boy Jason Heyward) that I would then turn around and buy all of the old ’50s through ’80s Hall of Famer rookie cards I wanted as a kid.  That stuff I still have and collect. 

Having cards professionally graded now is also a big deal.  You send your cards away to a service and it grades them on a scale of 1-10 with 10 being “gem mint,” they encapsulate it in a plastic holder with a label and send it back to you.  It’s actually great for older cards, many of which have been altered, and is necessary to take the subjectivity out of grading cards when you’re buying something online.  What I think is mint might not be what someone else thinks is mint, but if a professional third party says it’s mint that’s hard to argue with.  

I bought the 1989 Upper Deck “reverse negative” error Dale Murphy card not too long ago for like $2 and I think that was a $100 card back then, I believe.  Errors are something else that doesn’t really exist anymore.  The errors are still made, but they just don’t bother correcting them. 

The main problem with the hobby is that it’s not geared towards kids anymore – it’s geared towards weird old dudes who liked to collect when they were kids (like me).  My guess is that it will be mostly dead in about 20 years when the old guys start to get less interested and there’s no younger generation to backstop it.  

Also, good luck finding a local card shop.  I don’t think those have existed for five to ten years.  It’s exclusively online now; e-bay and retailers like blowoutcards.com.

And there it is.

I find this current state of affairs a bit unfortunate.  Now, if the baseball card industry goes completely extinct that is not going to hinder kids from playing, watching, or loving baseball.  But it is still something worth mourning.  Baseball cards were a gateway to socialize with other kids who shared similar interests.  They helped teach basic economics.  And what was on the back of the cards was often a kid’s first introduction to baseball statistics.

I lived in an area that showed exclusively National League games.  So when I was collecting I don’t think I saw Don Mattingly play a single game on television, save for a few innings in an All-Star Game.  But I studied his stats, and I knew what kind of player he was; I knew he hit .352/.394/.573 in 1986.  The back of the card was sort of the first Baseball-Reference, and the final arbiter of a petty argument over how many bases Vince Coleman stole in 1985.  There are now other ways to obtain this information but I can say with a smug confidence that our way was better.

And I still blame you, Upper Deck.  You know what you did.