It more than likely was:
- Flipped against a wall
- Wrapped with 100 or so other 1976 cards with a pair of rubber bands
- Brought to school and shoved in my desk
- Carried in my back pocket
- Shuffled while I scouted for cards to trade
- Used in an improvised baseball game involving dice (roll a "9" for a double, "12" for a home run). Each card was required to take a trip around the bases to reflect the action
- Stuffed under my pillow after looking at it with a flashlight after the lights were turned out for the night
- Dropped on the sidewalk
- Had food spilled on it as I looked at my cards at lunch
- Harmed in a brief, jealous frenzy when I let a friend see it
- Categorized by team, or by earned-run average, or by pitchers who weren't scary ugly
- Walked on
- Stared at and fingered, oh, about 3,467 times. And that's just the front of the card.
But please note that it was not:
- Folded into a paper airplane
- Placed in my bicycle spokes (even at that young age I thought that was going too far)
- Carried in my front pocket
- Tacked up on a bulletin board
- Tossed in the air with the rest my collection so I could produce a "it's raining cards!" effect.
But here's the sad part: one day soon -- maybe as early as this weekend (there's a card show coming up) -- I will upgrade this card.
Because I can remember being a kid, but I can't relate to them at all anymore.