How the hell did I miss this?!?!?!?

The quality of life has dropped a bit in the Province of Alberta as once again, the city of Edmonton screws the pooch.

Somehow, the Edmonton Oilers allowed free agent forward Mike Comrie to sign a one year, $500,000 deal with the Pittsburgh Penguins. For those uninformed, Mike Comrie is better know as Mr. Hilary Duff.
Edmonton allowed this to get away, for a lousy $500K.

I've been to Edmonton many times. They don't exactly have a lot of these on every corner or strolling though the mall. If you get my drift....

Seriously.... $500 grand. That's all it would have taken. I can probably pass the hat around the neighbourhood and get a good chunk of that....

Jesus.... give your head a shake people.....

Bags Drunk?

So I'm scanning some more cards, going through my traders so I can update my wantlists, when I come across this little card. It's one of about 80 or so Topps Black cards I have for trade.
Nothing to special about it, unless you're an O's fan... until I flipped it over and read the back. (yes. I read the backs of my cards...)

"George inherited a bags-drunk/no outs situation..."

Bags-Drunk???? Seriously? Couldn't we have gone the "Sacks Full", or "Ducks on the pond" route instead of some ridiculous hip hop Bags Drunk analogy.

Baseball cards are still for kids, aren't they????

Card Show bounty...

I went to the show last night, hoping to get to the good stuff early, before the rush today. (the autograph "guests" are at the show today. Doug Gilmour and Lanny McDonald. Only $25 per sig. Um. no thanks.)
I was wrong about the show. It wasn't 99% hockey. It was 99.75% hockey. *sigh* There were 3 wax boxes of baseball there. Period. A box of '08 A&G for $110. And two unmarked boxes of '09 Heritage. I held them up to get the attention of the dealer. "How much?" I asked. Looking over, he says "$160".
"You're selling them as a pair?" I asked. He gives me a strange look. "you mean, $80 each, $160 for the pair..."
"No." he says. "$160 each... they're new, and highly sought after... really rare right now."

I'll leave that rant for another post...

So with no baseball or football wax to buy, I changed tactics and went for some vintage singles. Out of over 75 tables, only three had any baseball. Fine. I grabbed what I could, along with two boxes of hockey, which I'll share later, and got out.

The singles I ended up with? This is the first. I found it in the bottom of a monster box filled with late '80s Topps singles. No namers mostly.
"How much for this?" I ask. "Oh, that's a special card there. It's from the 1963 set... that's before you were born"
Should I bother correcting him? 1963? Really? Let's try another tactic first.
"If it's a special card, why was it tossed in the bottom of this commons box?" Put him on the defensive.
"well, uh... I must have misplaced it." He knows defeat.
"it's got four dented corners... I'll give you a loonie for it" (that's a canadian dollar)
"uh, okay... you're getting a really good deal there. It's unmarked. That's rare from the '63's"

I turn it over. "Nope", I say, "it's been marked with a dull pencil, and someone has erased the marks."

Leaving him with his mouth hanging open, I leave with my new 1959 Braves check list.

The rest of my loot to come.

What Really Grinds My Gears...

It's time for Wednesday's rant.... you want to know What Really Grinds My Gears? Here's this week's story.
As some of you may know, I live in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Not exactly the hot spot for card collecting. I only knew of two card shops in this city of over a million people. The largest city in North America. (land area wise) These two shops are kind of, well, pathetic to be honest. One I don't even bother going to, and the other is going even further into the tank as the owner passed away and his grandson is ruining what business he did have. So it's a lot of online buying for me. It's the only way to get anything you want... and a heckuva lot cheaper than buying local.
So when I found out about a third shop, I was thrilled. I patiently waited for my day off, and drove the 45 minutes to this new, uncharted wonderland. And was the wait worth it! I walked in and there lay before me 900 square feet of yummy collecting goodness. The man behind the counter in his Calgary Flames jersey, Flames sweat pants, and surprise! Flames hat, asked if he could help me. I mumbled something about being okay for now.... while I wandered around in amazement. There were two walls of wax boxes.... he promised that if it came out in the last two years, he had it on the wall. Baseball, Hockey, Football, and even basketball.

Figurines, autographed photos, and every supply one could ever need was here, waiting to be scooped up and taken to a good home. My home. My wife would understand. Right? The only thing he didn't have was boxes of cards to sort through to fill sets. But that was okay. I have never seen that in any card shop here in Calgary. No biggie.

After an hour of drooling and ogling... I was ready to start purchasing. I began piling up supplies on the counter.

2 boxes of 9 count pages... check

1 box of 8 count pages... check

8 more ball cubes, UV protected... check

4 packages of top loaders... check

And now, the wax... by this time the store employee had come back over... "anything else?" he says. Oh yes. Oh yes. I'll take 2 packs of that, and 3 packs of that, and a pack.........

Wait. He's interupting me. What is he saying? Why isn't he getting me my packs?

WHAT? No. That can't be right. "Um, excuse me, can you repeat that?" I say.

"We don't sell packs." he says. "Well," I say, "What are those?" pointing to the thousand or so wax boxes on the wall. "We sell boxes, not packs" he says.

I blurt out, rather rudely, " you're kidding me, right?" "Nope." he says. "Only boxes."

The room is now spinning. I feel light headed. I look for someone to tell me it's all a joke. but no one is around. And then it hits me. In the hour plus I've been there... I haven't seen anyone.

"How many kids do you get buying stuff?" I ask... "oh.... none. We never get kids in here. They can't afford it" he says.

I turn around, and slowly walk out.

So coming in at #4 is retarded card shops and their owners. Dooming themselves, and the hobby in one fell swoop.

And that, is What Really Grinds My Gears.