Some Wednesday Natty Musings

I’m sitting around waiting for the VIP thing to start this afternoon, eager to hunt and envious of everyone in there right now bargain hunting. Yes, I am a fanatic, and I can prove it. 4:00 a.m. Sunday found me dragging my tired butt out of bed (my wife and I entertained the night before, and by the time the guests left and the dishes were cleared it was late) to head to a flea market. Yup, I am hardcore enough to hit a flea market at 5:00 in the morning the week of the National.

You know how I am always preaching doing the math on every deal? I sure had that experience at the market. A guy I have purchased cards from in the past showed me his newest lot. It was initially exciting because it was one of those 1970s-1980s baseball ‘lockers’ that Topps used to offer as a premium. Holds a few hundred cards. I’m thinking lots of 1970s. Wrong. He’d filled it with absolute crap, worthless junk wax commons, but had positioned a signed 1966 Topps Drysdale on the top. He wanted $30 for the whole, and I could not bargain it. The card was a beater that did not present well, with a big nasty crease right down Don’s face and heavy wear and creases elsewhere, but the signature was genuine (I know his signature). A raw, signed 1960s Drysdale in nice shape with a certified signature is a $100-$120 card. A lousy looking uncertified card is a $20 card. This was the latter. I would have to spend $30 to get the card and then I have to pay PSA $53 to authenticate ($30 fee plus shipping, even if I drop it at Burbank Sports Cards to save the outgoing postage). Say I get it done; I am into the card for $83. If I sell it for $110, by the time eBay takes its fees and I pay taxes on the gross profit, I am basically at a minuscule profit on a sale, with a lot of hassles and delays. If I try to sell it as an ugly raw card, I get maybe $20 to $30. Break-even or loss. Pass.

Another vendor had a hundred or so raw 1968-1969 football and baseball cards. All were low to mid-grade. She knew they were older than the other cards she had, but she had absolutely no clue about card values since they were the same price as equally sized stacks of junk wax. She said (always engage and listen, right) that she bought them from an estate in Palm Springs that week and that she just bagged up the ones that looked alike. I went through the entire vintage inventory. Not a single card above ex and no HOFers or rookies. Just commons. The price per unit was too high, so I passed. She also had a baggie of miscellaneous Topps ephemera. I went through it and saw a stack of Topps posters, two inches high, folded. I spot-checked them. First one I opened was a pristine Unitas. Then Bart Starr. Then a beautiful 1970 Clemente. Then a 1970 Frank Robinson. Also in the package were some wrappers. I wasn’t interested in those personally but putting aside my collector hat and thinking like a dealer, I realized that they were 1972 Topps wrappers, which I know are desirable. I stopped there; I’d seen enough to want the lot at the asking price or better and I wanted to close the purchase before some jackhole looked over my shoulder and tried to snake the deal.

I also had to stretch out of my comfort zone. On the way out I spotted a dealer I’ve bought from in the past. She gets cards but doesn’t care to learn about them, so she often just piles them in with other stuff at odd prices. This time, she had a big box of modern souvenir postcards. Ugh. I looked at the rest of the table and saw a stack of what I thought were 19^th century trade cards. They were 19^th century government postal cards imprinted with manufacturers’ ads and messages like trade cards. Some had great printed illustrations. Based on the images and the price per unit being right, I bought all of them and spent the afternoon happily researching away.

Never too much card stuff!