Yesterday morning, I finished up reevaluating my baseball card collection.
I must say, I'm glad I never considered my baseball card collection as a retirement strategy.
I only started collecting baseball cards back in the seventh and eighth grades so the other boys would have one less reason to beat me up. Not that they needed a reason to beat me up, but that did eliminate one reason to do it. Then they just made fun of me because my collection wasn't as good as theirs.
I've never been a fan of baseball. I've always considered it a boring sport to watch. though chatting about the history of the sport and discussing statistics can be interesting. At least the rules of baseball make sense, unlike football.
It was a pleasant surprise to discover no one in high school cared about baseball card collecting, so I was glad I could quit pretending I cared.
During the summer of 1993, I first priced and cataloged my collection. I've lost the original list, so I don't know how I arranged my collection. I think I arranged it by value. That was just crazy.
At the time, I was stunned to discover my collection had lost significant value in the few years before when I started the collection. From studying guides, and talking to others who knew a little about collecting, I determined there was an initial seven-year inverted bell curve. At first, the cards would gain a little value, then plummet, and then slowly regain value, in about seven years' time. Of course, a player's success (or lack thereof) and other factors would affect the card's value.
So, I boxed the common cards, sleeved the valued cards, and stuck them away. 1993 was supposed to be the nadir of my understanding of the bell curve, so I kept saying to myself, "Re-evaluate in a few years."
"A few years" became last summer. I thought about and attempted to write down the value of the cards. It was just too complicated. So this year, I plucked out the $10 and bought a guide.
As I started to price and re-cataloged my collection, I noticed how stupidly I arranged it. I also realized my inverted bell curve theory was probably a pile of crap. In fact, most of the cards I have had been downgraded to common card status. The value of the named cards have barely climbed in value.
The collectible market went through great upheaval with the advent of eBay and other online sites. On one hand, it was easy to find and obtain what you wanted, the other, it flooded the market with cards that had just been sitting on a shelf.
My collection had been a small binder, about an inch thick of cards worth displaying. Now, it's exactly two sleeves. They're arranged by publication, year, and number. All the common cards have been bagged in sealable sandwich baggie, placed in a used Amazon.com box, and with the binder, stuck back on the shelf. I didn't bother cataloging the commons. I just don't see a common card in 1988 or 1989 becoming suddenly valuable in the future.
Barry Bonds should be my favorite player; his cards are worth the most. I've got a 1989 Fleer and 1988 Donruss of him. Mike Schmidt, Robin Yount, and Craig Biggio are other worthies.
Another factor, my collection isn't in mint condition. About every card has a tiny flaw: a crease here, fraying there, a bent corner. And nobody pays face value of a collection. I guesstimate my entire collection, commons, the binder, and spare sleeves, everything, is worth $10, the value of the price guide I bought to tell me that.
I'll stick the box and binder up on the shelf and let it sit. Maybe in another 25 years I'll take another look at it.
The collection is sitting