Before I knew it, I had amassed a collection of 50 or more cards that "booked" for more than $10. Now, I needed a box to store the cards. In my family closet I found a blue metal box with a combination lock. It was perfect for the job. I asked my mom what the combination was and whether I could have the box. She didn't mind me using the box, but had no idea what the combination was.
My cousin and I joked that it would be really funny if the combination was "0 0 0". We spent what felt like forever-in reality maybe 20 minutes-trying to figure the combination out when I decided to try "0 0 0", We were shocked when the hinged lid unlocked.
Over the next eight to ten years, this box served as the repository for all my best cards. What started as $10+ cards slowly were updated to $100+ cards. After all, there was a finite amount of space in the box. I spent hours upon hours sorting the cards, changing the cases to fit more/less in the box, etc. Of all the "toys" that represent my childhood--none occupied more time, and provided more value than the little blue box.
I added NBA holograms to the box. I wrote in a sharpie "do not open". It's scratched all over. One time I left it on the ground in the family room and my dad, walking in the dark, ran into it with his foot. I heard what had happened as I lay in bed. When he came into my room to yell at me, I pretended to be asleep. He told me about how he "almost broke his toe on my box" the next day, but was a whole lot less angry than he had been.
Twenty five years later- I still own the box. It is the home to a set that I've owned for about twenty years-- a 1986-87 fleer set.
As I watch my five year old putting cards in his binder with 9 pocket pages, I am reminded of the blue box and can't help but wonder.... when quality will replace quantity.
