Screwed That One Up

I pulled this out of my bookcase, I’d forgotten it was there, and so I read it because I’d also forgotten what it was about.

It’s the story of a boy in the late 1950’s who had a card collection and was in a serious game at school in which he’d lost his entire pile except for his best one, his Rocket Richard card. But he gambled and played it, won, then won again, and soon after had won back all his cards and life was good.

Years later, as a grown man, he gave his nephew the Rocket card and everybody lived happily ever after.

I hate to be a downer on this, but if you look closely at this 1959/60 card, it’s completely battered, bruised, and torn, and this card, which can be worth hundreds of dollars in good shape, is almost worthless in this condition. Look at the corner of it. It’s a disgrace.

But that’s what we did. We threw cards against walls and put them in our bike wheels and all us, if someone had told us, would be living the life of luxury right now, all because we had endless supplies of Rocket cards and Gordie Howe rookies, and Bobby Hull and Jacques Plante. But we wrecked them and now we’re poor.

5 thoughts on “Screwed That One Up”

  1. But if we’d all saved those cards, instead of using them, then there would be many around. That would in turn de-value them to the point where you might as well use them for… say… playing card games. Supply and demand, my friend…

  2. Schemer, I’ve heard this argument before. I suppose you’re right, but not nearly as many were made then as now. I think there would still be a legion of card collectors scrambling for them anyway. I think they’d still be valuable.

  3. I am proud to say I own this card of the Rocket. The corners on mine arnt much better but a banged up 59 parkie of the rocket is still better then no 59 card of the rocket.

  4. You’ve got some really nice stuff, Jordy. And you’re right, a banged-up one is better than none at all.

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