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tonsofcommons
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(Picture book version for Clint)
The alarm goes off and I sit straight up in bed. IT'S THE DAY.
After a quick 3S session (S***, Shower, Shave), and a once or twice with the ol' toothbrush, I'm on the road to meet a buddy of mine to catch a ride east to the Windy City.
The trip goes quicker than expected, talking about cards, life, and the loss of the beloved Twinkie (my friend left Hostess 4 months ago, knowing it was near the end).
Getting to Rosemont an hour beforehand, we check out some of the sweet classic cars out in the lobby as we wait to get in to Nirvana; 340 tables of nothing but paper pleasures.
The guy in front of me is a reincarnation of Sweetness Walter Payton (according to his jersey), but he is more Sasha Baron Cohen, without the funny accent. He is reminiscing about the days of Big Hurt signing autographs and being grumpy about his failing marriage and being a connoisseur of $2 import beers. Unlike the group that is hung to his every word, I am not intrigued and make small talk with my buddy Mike.
We talk about what we hope to see, whether I should get Rollie Fingers Auto and if so, what inscription I should ask for (we decided either a well-drawn handlebar moustache under his name and/or the inscription "Free Moustache Rides", whichever Mr. Fingers preferred.
As we watch the VIPs entering, we were briefly excited, only to realize that they paid $199 for that privilege and THAT is alot of money for Quarter boxes!!!! And what if I missed another interesting story from Walter Payton Cohen?
Finally, the doors open to us common folk and we file in like lemmings to the cliff of collectibles abyss.
My first stop is PSA to drop off a few items for my friend. Talk about intimidation. I walk up and it's like being a doctor's office. "Please fill out all forms in full or you will be denied service" and then off to the next patient... er, I mean customer. I fill it out the form, keeping my fingers crossed that if I had to have a physical, it would be from one of the semi-attractive "PSA Girls" and not one of the "Forensic Specialists"!
At that point, I'm off. I'm like and English Setter released for the hunt. Off in 6 different directions, nose in the air, searching for deals. I pass Beckett Media, so badly wanting to stop and say to them "I saw 'World's Greatest Sports Card Forum' on the floor plan and was expecting to see FCB, so what happened?" But I didn't want to make them sad.
I finally settle upon a table and find some football stuff for $5 each and flip through, hoping to find some great deals and possible a sweet Pacific patch or 2. I come across 1 patch I need, so I pick it up and ask the young guy "You have any more Pacific like this?" His eyes light up like he had seen Santa. (Remember, I was lacking sleep, so I could have imagined THAT part) "Are you on the message boards?" he asked. Of course, I'm curious, and a little scared, but give him my screen name, which is evidently universally known. "Cool, I'm scruffmcgruff". Holy cow, this guy has Pacific, and ones I WANT! So I look through and find one that I need, pay him, and I'm on my merry way.
Overwhelmed, I wander around aimlessly for the next 45 minutes. I'm completely shell-shocked at the monumental amount of stuff to buy in one building. This makes the "big shows" I am used to (20 tables) look a zit on Kim Kardashian's supple ass.
I find another 2 dollar box of GU/Autos and I start digging, There HAS to be some Pacific in here! After digging through mounds upon mounds of Teyo Johnson, Luke McCowns and Maurice Clarretts, I come up with a HUGE stack of 12 gu/autos, some PC, some resell, some for coasters.
Next I wander around aimlessly for another 30 minutes. It's 12:05, I hear last call for Rollie Fingers. WTH? He's signing until 1! I run over to the ticket booth and get in line. Again, over the loud speaker... LAST CALL. HMMM.... What can $40 buy me at the show? Once again, the cards win this round and I saunter out of line. No moustache rides today.
As I go back around, I grab a 3 row box to store the large quantity I plan on buying and head off. Instantly I'm bombarded by "HEY MAN, YOU SELLIN'" around EVERY turn. A long cry from the typically "Sorry, I'm not looking to buy" that I am accustomed to hearing as I travel card show floors.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a booth with "70% off Football GU" box, so I set up camp and start perusing. Alot of nice cards, along with some slightly over priced stuff, but I do find a pot of the rainbow, or should I say "DwayneBowe". A nice Dwayne Bowe 2007 Absolute Prime/Auto 8/10. Now, I'm thinking alright, $15! Well autos were 60% off, so the guy charged me $20. A BS move to me (since it was in the 70% off box) but still a great deal.
On to the next table, I find a nice Hankerson auto'd letter, so I give Clint a ring. "Nah, I don't do the Letters, but thanks for callin' to ask." I hang up and question his Player collection, as well as his manhood. What a girl. Oh well, no time to ponder life's questions, Iz gotz cards to find! I settle on a Ricky Stanzi letter auto for $5 and forge ahead.
I stop at a table with various boxes and start flipping through, finding some nice $1/$2 finds. over hearing a great deal on a Ted Williams jersey that I would have bought in a heartbeat (Marked $30, sold for $15. Probably a $60 or $80 card... oh well). I got these for $7. Would have rather had the Williams for $15.
Realizing it's 1, I decide to give my buddy a call and see if he wanted to stop for some delicacies from the high-class concession area. As I go up, I have a hard time deciding on the $6 pizza or the $4 nachos, so I get both, along with a candy bar and a drink. We sit down for the first time in 3 hours and talk about what to see next.
Stomach full of over-priced, just-at-par food, I'm off to my next destination, the bathroom. After the Tinker Stinker (Gangum Ruxin Style), I decide "OK, dumpster diving time!" I mill around, looking for some prime squattin' area. Flipping through some 3/$1 boxes, I just don't feel comfortable looking at these 6s & 7s when there are 9s and 10s that are much more deserving of my time. So I put the cards down and continue my search.
I head to the back row by the PSA booth and see a guy with $1 boxes. I LOVE $1 boxes. Better yet 14 for $10. Even better when oddly divisible numbers are involved.
I dig around the football box, finding a couple Pacific GU and a few odds and ends, not even getting to the obligatory 14. Well, I'll dig around the baseball a little to see what's hidden in there... glad I did. We settled on $31 for the group, shook hands, and here is the heavenly bounty bestowed upon me at the end.
Including these rare beauties:
With $100 left to my wallet, I mill around a little more. Having seen everything, I am trying to decide if I want to save the $100 for green pastures or blow my ***... of money here.
I've tried to stop and give BG a hard time but each time I see him, he's busy, so I just keep walkin'.
A table up near the front has $5/$3/$2/$1/50 cent boxes. YAHTZEE! I ask for a chair and settle in for the storm. I start with the $1 stuff and find 30 or so cards. Lots of GU and fun inserts. Then on to the $2 box, 1/2 a dozen there, $3... a few more. Then the real fun, a 3 row of 50c stuff. 80 cards later, my total is $103, seller counters my offer of $80 with $90, we shake and I'm out the door with enough money for a value meal and a Pepsi on the ride home.
I run over, grab my buddy's stuff from PSA, and run for the hills.
The ride home is a good one, talking about the stuff we picked up (Mike's a big spender and got some great stuff, Payton Auto, Schmidt auto, Jackson auto patch, Jordan auto, etc), and agreeing that next Chicago National will be great.
Originally, I was overwhelmed and just wasn't impressed, but eventually that wore off, I had a good time and would do it again in a heartbeat.
The alarm goes off and I sit straight up in bed. IT'S THE DAY.
After a quick 3S session (S***, Shower, Shave), and a once or twice with the ol' toothbrush, I'm on the road to meet a buddy of mine to catch a ride east to the Windy City.
The trip goes quicker than expected, talking about cards, life, and the loss of the beloved Twinkie (my friend left Hostess 4 months ago, knowing it was near the end).
Getting to Rosemont an hour beforehand, we check out some of the sweet classic cars out in the lobby as we wait to get in to Nirvana; 340 tables of nothing but paper pleasures.
The guy in front of me is a reincarnation of Sweetness Walter Payton (according to his jersey), but he is more Sasha Baron Cohen, without the funny accent. He is reminiscing about the days of Big Hurt signing autographs and being grumpy about his failing marriage and being a connoisseur of $2 import beers. Unlike the group that is hung to his every word, I am not intrigued and make small talk with my buddy Mike.
We talk about what we hope to see, whether I should get Rollie Fingers Auto and if so, what inscription I should ask for (we decided either a well-drawn handlebar moustache under his name and/or the inscription "Free Moustache Rides", whichever Mr. Fingers preferred.
As we watch the VIPs entering, we were briefly excited, only to realize that they paid $199 for that privilege and THAT is alot of money for Quarter boxes!!!! And what if I missed another interesting story from Walter Payton Cohen?
Finally, the doors open to us common folk and we file in like lemmings to the cliff of collectibles abyss.
My first stop is PSA to drop off a few items for my friend. Talk about intimidation. I walk up and it's like being a doctor's office. "Please fill out all forms in full or you will be denied service" and then off to the next patient... er, I mean customer. I fill it out the form, keeping my fingers crossed that if I had to have a physical, it would be from one of the semi-attractive "PSA Girls" and not one of the "Forensic Specialists"!
At that point, I'm off. I'm like and English Setter released for the hunt. Off in 6 different directions, nose in the air, searching for deals. I pass Beckett Media, so badly wanting to stop and say to them "I saw 'World's Greatest Sports Card Forum' on the floor plan and was expecting to see FCB, so what happened?" But I didn't want to make them sad.
I finally settle upon a table and find some football stuff for $5 each and flip through, hoping to find some great deals and possible a sweet Pacific patch or 2. I come across 1 patch I need, so I pick it up and ask the young guy "You have any more Pacific like this?" His eyes light up like he had seen Santa. (Remember, I was lacking sleep, so I could have imagined THAT part) "Are you on the message boards?" he asked. Of course, I'm curious, and a little scared, but give him my screen name, which is evidently universally known. "Cool, I'm scruffmcgruff". Holy cow, this guy has Pacific, and ones I WANT! So I look through and find one that I need, pay him, and I'm on my merry way.
Overwhelmed, I wander around aimlessly for the next 45 minutes. I'm completely shell-shocked at the monumental amount of stuff to buy in one building. This makes the "big shows" I am used to (20 tables) look a zit on Kim Kardashian's supple ass.
I find another 2 dollar box of GU/Autos and I start digging, There HAS to be some Pacific in here! After digging through mounds upon mounds of Teyo Johnson, Luke McCowns and Maurice Clarretts, I come up with a HUGE stack of 12 gu/autos, some PC, some resell, some for coasters.
Next I wander around aimlessly for another 30 minutes. It's 12:05, I hear last call for Rollie Fingers. WTH? He's signing until 1! I run over to the ticket booth and get in line. Again, over the loud speaker... LAST CALL. HMMM.... What can $40 buy me at the show? Once again, the cards win this round and I saunter out of line. No moustache rides today.
As I go back around, I grab a 3 row box to store the large quantity I plan on buying and head off. Instantly I'm bombarded by "HEY MAN, YOU SELLIN'" around EVERY turn. A long cry from the typically "Sorry, I'm not looking to buy" that I am accustomed to hearing as I travel card show floors.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a booth with "70% off Football GU" box, so I set up camp and start perusing. Alot of nice cards, along with some slightly over priced stuff, but I do find a pot of the rainbow, or should I say "DwayneBowe". A nice Dwayne Bowe 2007 Absolute Prime/Auto 8/10. Now, I'm thinking alright, $15! Well autos were 60% off, so the guy charged me $20. A BS move to me (since it was in the 70% off box) but still a great deal.
On to the next table, I find a nice Hankerson auto'd letter, so I give Clint a ring. "Nah, I don't do the Letters, but thanks for callin' to ask." I hang up and question his Player collection, as well as his manhood. What a girl. Oh well, no time to ponder life's questions, Iz gotz cards to find! I settle on a Ricky Stanzi letter auto for $5 and forge ahead.
I stop at a table with various boxes and start flipping through, finding some nice $1/$2 finds. over hearing a great deal on a Ted Williams jersey that I would have bought in a heartbeat (Marked $30, sold for $15. Probably a $60 or $80 card... oh well). I got these for $7. Would have rather had the Williams for $15.
Realizing it's 1, I decide to give my buddy a call and see if he wanted to stop for some delicacies from the high-class concession area. As I go up, I have a hard time deciding on the $6 pizza or the $4 nachos, so I get both, along with a candy bar and a drink. We sit down for the first time in 3 hours and talk about what to see next.
Stomach full of over-priced, just-at-par food, I'm off to my next destination, the bathroom. After the Tinker Stinker (Gangum Ruxin Style), I decide "OK, dumpster diving time!" I mill around, looking for some prime squattin' area. Flipping through some 3/$1 boxes, I just don't feel comfortable looking at these 6s & 7s when there are 9s and 10s that are much more deserving of my time. So I put the cards down and continue my search.
I head to the back row by the PSA booth and see a guy with $1 boxes. I LOVE $1 boxes. Better yet 14 for $10. Even better when oddly divisible numbers are involved.
I dig around the football box, finding a couple Pacific GU and a few odds and ends, not even getting to the obligatory 14. Well, I'll dig around the baseball a little to see what's hidden in there... glad I did. We settled on $31 for the group, shook hands, and here is the heavenly bounty bestowed upon me at the end.
Including these rare beauties:
With $100 left to my wallet, I mill around a little more. Having seen everything, I am trying to decide if I want to save the $100 for green pastures or blow my ***... of money here.
I've tried to stop and give BG a hard time but each time I see him, he's busy, so I just keep walkin'.
A table up near the front has $5/$3/$2/$1/50 cent boxes. YAHTZEE! I ask for a chair and settle in for the storm. I start with the $1 stuff and find 30 or so cards. Lots of GU and fun inserts. Then on to the $2 box, 1/2 a dozen there, $3... a few more. Then the real fun, a 3 row of 50c stuff. 80 cards later, my total is $103, seller counters my offer of $80 with $90, we shake and I'm out the door with enough money for a value meal and a Pepsi on the ride home.
I run over, grab my buddy's stuff from PSA, and run for the hills.
The ride home is a good one, talking about the stuff we picked up (Mike's a big spender and got some great stuff, Payton Auto, Schmidt auto, Jackson auto patch, Jordan auto, etc), and agreeing that next Chicago National will be great.
Originally, I was overwhelmed and just wasn't impressed, but eventually that wore off, I had a good time and would do it again in a heartbeat.
