There, I said it.
Ten thousand Pirate cards. Four thousand autographs. Fifteen hundred Steelers and Penguins Probably a thousand more "odds and ends" cards that I consider in my PC. Keeping all of that straight is daunting enough.
But tack on the tens of thousands of cards from various box breaks, my childhood collection, and lots that I broke up? I've created my own dime box.
My childhood collection is neatly organized by team and at one point was all cataloged in a spreadsheet. Some cards have been moved, traded, or misplaced, but the structure remains pretty solid. But that only takes me up through 2001 or thereabouts. The rest? Half a dozen monster boxes of commons, completed sets, near complete sets, vintage, inserts, and who knows what else. On top of that, there is a box of nothing but cards I had pulled at one point or another to get signed. That one needs desperately cleaned out, since many players in there have stopped signing through the mail or I no longer have IP access to.
The result? A glorious scavenger hunt any time I stop by my parents' house. I'm slowly weeding through everything and organizing the cards that catch my eye. Not to mention the growing piles of cards to be dispersed to unsuspecting bloggers.
Our last trip back home yielded some fun, and long forgotten, favorites that have now safely secured their spot in my team binders.
And really, how can I not love these cards? Griffey, at the top of his game with his picturesque swing. Rickey Henderson early in his career wearing those glorious A's unis. A team in Milwaukee that I don't loathe.
The thing I think I enjoy the most out of these digs, this hodge podge of disparate collecting interests I have drudged up after laying dormant for years, is the array of uniforms that the players wear.
My memories of the 90's Astros are probably as tied to the blue and...goldish silver logo and color combination as it is to the Killer B's. Long before Operation Shutwodn, I was actually a big Derek Bell fan.
And the Mariners teal uniforms were, and still are, the epitome of jersey perfection in my book. For all of the drawbacks and sheer stupidity to the Moments & Milestones concept and it's million serial numbered cards, the set did offer some sweet vintage photos of some of my favorite childhood players. I'll never much care for Randy Johnson as a Giant or Roger Clemens as a Yankee. But offer them up to me as a Mariner, Astro, Blue Jay, or Red Sox and they'll almost certainly find a place in my collection.
And that's the best part about my own personal dime box dives. It's a nostalgic trip back into my collection through both the players on the cards and the memories I have of pulling, sorting, and resorting those cards as a kid. And now, every once in a while, pulling out a little piece of nostalgia I never even remember I had.