Yesterday 5-year-old F invited me to play Pokemon cards with him. I’m still not entirely sure what that’s supposed to entail, other than beating your old man for a varying number of amorphous reasons that never quite seem to add up.
A little of that goes a long way, and to change the subject I got my old box of baseball cards down from a closet shelf so I could show him how his forebears did card-collecting.
“Can I have this one?”
“Sure.”
“Can I have this one?”
“You bet.”
This was working out great. And then, maybe two minutes into exploring that box I hadn’t opened in two decades, what did we find? A 1983 Topps rookie card for Hall of Famer Tony Gwynn. In pristine condition.
I put the box away.
Leave A Comment