That Time I Stole a Roy Campanella Card!
Card Confessions: I finally come clean about the time "teenage me" did the unthinkable, becoming one of the bad guys in this Happy Hobby.
Each Happy Hobby Sports Card Newsletter For Collectors has a handful of great sports card subjects, helping sports card collectors working with limited budgets!
This Week’s Newsletter Highlights!
⚾🏈🏀 THAT TIME I STOLE A ROY CAMPANELLA CARD!
🏀⚾🏈 SPORTS CARD TRIVIA!
🏀⚾🏈 YOUTUBE 5K SUBSCRIBER GIVEAWAY REMINDER!
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⚾🏈🏀 THAT TIME I STOLE A ROY CAMPANELLA CARD!
I’m not proud of it, let me say that. You see the headline and it sounds like I’m bragging about the time I stole a Roy Campanella card, but I’m not. It’s more of a cautionary tale! Do as I say, kids, not as I do!
It was the summer of 1986, I was 15 years old and had just finished lifting weights as part of our high school football team’s offseason program. (Go Kowboys!... Yeah, with a K. I know, I can’t help it.)
I hated everything about lifting weights. Weights are heavy. They don’t tell you that going in, but weights are stinking heavy. I hated moving them, much less lifting them.
Baseball cards are light. I liked those.
My buddy and neighbor, Steve, was a stud offensive tackle on our team, and I was – not. This guy was a mountain of a man, and he had a tiny little 2-door ’82 Toyota Tercel. Since he gave me rides to and from school and the gym, I chose not to mock him for wearing his little car like a pair of shorts.
We both collected sports cards, and once a week, we’d stop by our local card shop in Central Florida. This card shop was run by a middle school teacher, Mr. [Card Shop Owner]. He and his wife, Mrs. [Card Shop Owner], ran the shop with what seemed like very little joy, and you’d always see them there, not smiling, surrounded by things that only make you happy.
(The names have been redacted as to not incur a lawsuit, or hurt the feelings of their likely joyless children or relatives. We shall call them Mr. and Mrs. Smiley from here on out.)
Why Own a Card Shop?
I understood hating your life because you teach ungrateful teenagers, but you also own a card shop!?! This was as close as I’d ever get to meeting someone with an alter ego! By weekday, he was mild-mannered, boring old Mr. Smiley. But on the weekends, he’s ripping wax and trading cards like Captain Cardboard!?!
But no, instead of being a superhero, he was more like a villain. He made bad trades with kids – which is a story for a future newsletter. I don’t remember ever seeing him or his wife smile. Not once. They never seemed happy to see a customer – especially one like me, who’s spending maybe $10 that day if life was treating me particularly amazing that month.
I’d walk in and their heads would rise from their never-ending card sorting. If they were feeling extra plucky that day, they’d throw me a grunt. Real charmers.
Looking back now, I ask the question – if you knew you didn’t like kids, why become a teacher and open a card store? That’s like me becoming a walnut farmer and starting a YouTube channel about eating undercooked eggs. I hate both of those things, why would I make them my world?
Anyway, I went to the card store that day, after pretending to pump iron…
I was rarely ever a “buy singles” guy. I’ve become one as a “Renewed Collector,” but as a kid, it was all about ripping packs! But understand, it wasn’t the rookie card hunt most smart collectors would do, I’d be hunting for the All-Star cards of legends late in their career, like Mike Schmidt, George Brett, Jim Rice, and the like. Why would I want cards with high upside? (We’ve already established I was a dumb kid.)
Summer Camp with Grampy Campy!
On this particular day, Mrs. Smiley was manning the shop, as I imagined Mr. Smiley was busy not having fun on a rollercoaster somewhere.
It was a smallish card store in the smallish downtown area of a smallish city. Shotgun-style, with the counter in the back, where you checked out. They had cards displayed everywhere, along with signed baseballs and assorted sports memorabilia.
I spotted a Roy Campanella card that was singing to me. Loudly. It was the 1961 Topps MVPs card, which highlighted Campy’s MVPs from 1951, 1953 and 1955.
Campanella was Yogi Berra’s National League counterpart, and I adopted both of them as my third and fourth grandfathers. I was a catcher in Little League and high school, and I always gravitated toward them. My ‘80s/’90s modern-day backstop heroes included Lance Parrish (I had a Lance Parrish glove!), Benito Santiago (threw baserunners out from his knees!), Mike LaValliere (Spanky!) and my favorite, Damon Berryhill, of the Chicago Cubs.
I wasn’t a Dodgers fan, by any means (hated them until Shohei arrived), but this Campy card… Did I mention how it sang to me? Its bright blue background. The chubby floating head of a player who could’ve played in the 1850s as easily as the 1950s as far as I was concerned. (Anything before 1975 was prehistoric for me.)
There it was. Sitting on a shelf. No toploader. No penny sleeve. Just lying there with a bunch of other cards on a shelf, about 20 feet from the counter. Twenty feet from Mrs. Smiley’s mopey eyes.
The Waist Heist
I wanted that card. Bad. I think it was $8. I had that much!... But what about those 1986 Topps Baseball packs!?! I needed another shot at pulling a 13th-year Dave Winfield card! How could I get a bunch of packs and that Campy card!?! It really was Sophie’s Choice.
So, I stole it.
I slyly picked it up with my left hand and slid it under my shirt, right under the band of my gym shorts. (My weightlifting shorts had no pockets – I was a thief, and I was a dumb thief.)
I paid for my packs, Steve bought whatever he got (he was more of a football cards guy, so my guess is he bought a bunch of 1986 Topps Football packs, with Jerry Rice RCs, which makes me happy for him.) We left the store, without Mrs. Smiley ever noticing the cold beads of sweat running down my face, or the way I shakily handed her my cash.
I got away with it.
Once we were a safe distance from the door, I pulled the card out to appreciate my pilfered bounty, only to find I had underestimated my belly (I still do!). It folded the card over the waistband, right across the center of the card. Just a solid crease on his beautiful pudgy face.
I never tried to be super careful with my cards growing up, but as I smartened up, I gave up the rubber bands. I stopped building card houses. I put my cards in binders, which I grew to hate later.
The state of this bent card helped fold a little crease in my stomach, too. I was crestfallen. I explained what I did to Steve – and the results – and he just laughed at me and said I got what was coming to me. (Remembering that now makes me hope he got all punters in those ’86 Topps Football packs.)
Regrets, I’ve Had a Few!
I don’t believe in karma or any of that stuff. But I do believe that if you do enough bad things, you’ll put yourself in enough situations where bad things can start happening to you. Do good things, and not only will you put yourself in situations where good things can start happening to you, but you also feel good by being nice, which is a reward on its own.
I still own the card. I’ve considered upgrading it at different times, but it’s not about the card, now. It’s that horrible feeling I want to remember. Feeling like a miserable, failed thief. I ruined an otherwise awesome piece of sports history, one that would now be close to 65 years old, all because I was greedy and dishonest.
After never making amends with The Smileys, I have since tried to be nicer to other collectors, giving cards when I can, and just generally trying to help others have a Happy Hobby.
Campy made a Hall-of-Fame career of throwing out base-stealers. Yet, here I am, a card stealer, with his card in hand, bent right through the bridge of his nose.
Grandpa Roy would’ve been so disappointed.
⚾ BASEBALL CARD TRIVIA!
Send me the answer to this question – you could win this free card from us!
2021 Topps Update 1968 Topps Reggie Jackson “Cards That Never Were” CNW-1
This first baseman was second in NL Rookie of the Year voting one year in the ‘50s. Later in his career, he was arrested for indecent exposure, and MLB suspended him for that misconduct – so Topps pulled his card No. 145 from their set. Who was the player and what was the year for that set?
Email your answer to gonoscards@gmail.com and you can win this 2021 Topps Update 1968 Topps Reggie Jackson Cards That Never Were CNW-1 card! Rather than take the first person who answers it right, I’m going to do a random drawing of all the people who answer this question before midnight, Friday, Feb. 14. The winner will be announced in the Feb. 20 newsletter.
Last week’s question: Which Topps Living card is believed to have had the largest production run ever, nearly 50% more than the second-place card? Answer by midnight Feb. 7. The winner gets a 2019 Topps Living Mike Trout card, and will be announced in the Feb. 13 newsletter.
Did you know: You can listen to our Happy Hobby Sports Cards Podcast right here in your browser on Substack? Our most popular episode so far was “7 Smart Tips For Buying Sports Cards on eBay!”
🏀⚾🏈 THE GRIFFEY GRAND SLAM GIVEAWAY!
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1989 Upper Deck Ken Griffey Jr. #1 - PSA 8
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1989 Fleer Ken Griffey Jr. #548 - PSA 9
1989 Topps Traded Ken Griffey Jr. #41T - PSA 9
Coming Next Week!
⚾🏈🏀 THE 2025 HALL-OF-FAME ISSUE: COLLECTING HOFers!
🏈⚾🏀 SPORTS CARD TRIVIA!
⚾ PATRICK’S PRIME PROSPECT PICKS!
🏈🏀⚾ HAPPY HOBBYIST COLLECTOR SPOTLIGHT!
⚾🏈🏀 CARDS THAT MAKE US HAPPY!
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What a well-told story, enjoyed it. Well, I think Grandpa Roy can forgive you… As you alluded to, I think you’ve more than made up for it with the joy and kindness you bring to so many in the hobby.
Incidentally, while you and many smarten up as they mature, I’m still the same silly collector as I was back then, pulling 12th year cards of veterans non-stop out of packs instead of just spending a fraction on the cards I actually want.. oh well, old habits die hard. Thanks for the captivating read!
Now I am thinking back on all those pretty keychains that went missing off my racks during your time working with me in front of Zayres. Hmm... I thought paying for your all-you-can-eat bucket of wings at PGs would slake that larcenous hunger. Who knew?! I still love you, brother Dave.