Juan Gris
Well-known member
Home Plate in Piqua, Ohio. God, I loved that place growing up.
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San Jose in the house! I grew up there and went to both. Also Capital Cards and Comics, National Pastime and I still hit Lefty's in Burlingame (was in San Bruno) and the shop that's still on Stevens Creek Blvd in San Jose when I'm down there visiting...
All In Cards;2059331[B said:]Jays sports connection [/B]
The old ball game
Sent from my Galaxy Nexus using Freedom Card Board mobile app
Must have been the old Jay's on York Road near the Diner. I can remember that they had swivel bar stools set up along the back display case so one could pull commons out of their boxes to complete one's sets, and Jay's variety boxes that sold for around $ 15. Also had a full complement of supplies. Seems like they moved around 5 times further up York Road and evolved into Great Moments mainly selling signed memorabilia.
Having lived with the luxury of the internet for over half my life, I'm not even sure how I found Baseline Cards; I guess an 11-year-old me did some research in the Poughkeepsie phone book.
Baseline was barely distinguishable as a business in what looked like a run-down, one-story house. Most of the front of this house was covered in derelict siding; Baseline's small area of storefront was clad in old, stained brick. It was almost as if Baseline, as a business, was squatting in the corner of this forgotten structure. It had one window with a crude sign that read in stenciled letters, "BASELINE CARDS". The house was set about 15 feet from the street, tucked between another neglected building and a cemetery, in the shadow of a tree that's no longer there.
My introduction to baseball cards was almost completely through Baseline Cards. I got my first baseball card album there, and the plastic cover still smells like that musty little shop. The first thing I ever saved up for as a kid was a 1973 Topps Nolan Ryan, purchased at the end of my last summer as a non-teenager. I remember so many afternoons getting home from school and asking my mom to drive me over to Baseline - on a number of these occasions, this was followed by an exasperated "no," but every now and then the stars would align and I would get to spend a few minutes at the shop while she waited in the car.
The interior of this place was exactly what you would expect from looking at the outside. Sagging shelves. Dark corners. Stacks... stacks... stacks of dusty commons boxes. It smelled a little odd. And they didn't always have the latest product on hand. I never even thought about going anywhere else because of Baseline's owner/employee, Dan. He was a soft-spoken guy who looked old to me because I was 12 years old, but he was probably in his mid-30s. Dan made me, a kid, feel welcome in his small space that was usually populated by a handful of gruff card investors. My mom was a little wary of him, with his scraggly hair and ratty sweaters, but she eventually came around. One day about a week after my birthday, I came into the shop with my dad, who said "We're looking to spend a little birthday money today" - Dan walked out from behind the cramped display case, pulled a sweet Circa '97 Alex Rodriguez off the shelf, and said "Happy Birthday." (I specifically didn't use an exclamation point because exclaiming was not Dan's style.)
Eventually, in the face of a changing baseball card environment, even the tiny baseball card shop in the corner of a forgotten house couldn't sustain itself. Dan merged his business with a guy named Bruce, who owned a store called Joe's Baseball Card Shop & Things a few miles down the road. Bruce was a mustachioed idiot with a Dutch boy haircut and a stupid trucker hat, who was clinging to the dream of getting rich on baseball cards. Dan and Bruce opened up shop in a shiny new plaza. The store, Joe's Baseline Cards - with ample light, lots of interior space, and a paved parking lot - was everything that Baseline Cards was not. Of course I still went to this new establishment on a regular basis, long enough that I was able to drive myself a few times, but at some point one of those visits was my last one. I'm not sure when it happened, but one day there was a sign in the window that said simply, "FOR LEASE" - a sign with stenciled letters just as plain as the sign that still leaned in the window of the original, abandoned "BASELINE CARDS" just down the road.
Having lived with the luxury of the internet for over half my life, I'm not even sure how I found Baseline Cards; I guess an 11-year-old me did some research in the Poughkeepsie phone book.
Baseline was barely distinguishable as a business in what looked like a run-down, one-story house. Most of the front of this house was covered in derelict siding; Baseline's small area of storefront was clad in old, stained brick. It was almost as if Baseline, as a business, was squatting in the corner of this forgotten structure. It had one window with a crude sign that read in stenciled letters, "BASELINE CARDS". The house was set about 15 feet from the street, tucked between another neglected building and a cemetery, in the shadow of a tree that's no longer there.
My introduction to baseball cards was almost completely through Baseline Cards. I got my first baseball card album there, and the plastic cover still smells like that musty little shop. The first thing I ever saved up for as a kid was a 1973 Topps Nolan Ryan, purchased at the end of my last summer as a non-teenager. I remember so many afternoons getting home from school and asking my mom to drive me over to Baseline - on a number of these occasions, this was followed by an exasperated "no," but every now and then the stars would align and I would get to spend a few minutes at the shop while she waited in the car.
The interior of this place was exactly what you would expect from looking at the outside. Sagging shelves. Dark corners. Stacks... stacks... stacks of dusty commons boxes. It smelled a little odd. And they didn't always have the latest product on hand. I never even thought about going anywhere else because of Baseline's owner/employee, Dan. He was a soft-spoken guy who looked old to me because I was 12 years old, but he was probably in his mid-30s. Dan made me, a kid, feel welcome in his small space that was usually populated by a handful of gruff card investors. My mom was a little wary of him, with his scraggly hair and ratty sweaters, but she eventually came around. One day about a week after my birthday, I came into the shop with my dad, who said "We're looking to spend a little birthday money today" - Dan walked out from behind the cramped display case, pulled a sweet Circa '97 Alex Rodriguez off the shelf, and said "Happy Birthday." (I specifically didn't use an exclamation point because exclaiming was not Dan's style.)
Eventually, in the face of a changing baseball card environment, even the tiny baseball card shop in the corner of a forgotten house couldn't sustain itself. Dan merged his business with a guy named Bruce, who owned a store called Joe's Baseball Card Shop & Things a few miles down the road. Bruce was a mustachioed idiot with a Dutch boy haircut and a stupid trucker hat, who was clinging to the dream of getting rich on baseball cards. Dan and Bruce opened up shop in a shiny new plaza. The store, Joe's Baseline Cards - with ample light, lots of interior space, and a paved parking lot - was everything that Baseline Cards was not. Of course I still went to this new establishment on a regular basis, long enough that I was able to drive myself a few times, but at some point one of those visits was my last one. I'm not sure when it happened, but one day there was a sign in the window that said simply, "FOR LEASE" - a sign with stenciled letters just as plain as the sign that still leaned in the window of the original, abandoned "BASELINE CARDS" just down the road.
I want to be the first to welcome Malcolm Gladwell to the boards.
I had goosebumps reading that. Not of the R.L. Stine variety though.
I've heard, um, mixed opinions on Malcolm Gladwell... but that's a compliment, right? Thanks!
I suspect I'm one of only a very few people who remember anything about Baseline at all, so it means a lot to me that I had the opportunity to take a couple of people there via this thread. I'm especially happy be able to share my memories with others who have their own recollections of favorite card shops and old hobby friends.