I don't need you, card aisle

It is becoming apparent that looking for cards in a big box store card aisle is going to be a futile exercise at least through the end of the year.

I refuse to hunt down the distributor's schedule and stalk the poor worker, congregating with other stalkers amid a pandemic. There is absolutely nothing released in 2020 that is worth that.

I collect cards. I don't flip them and almost never sell them. So, really, what's the point?

I don't need you card aisle.

Yes, you and me have been friends -- along with card counter and card end cap -- since the 1970s. You have been a happy destination for many, many years. But it's time to address what has become mere habit for too long.

Nothing in your card aisle is needed anymore.

Find a set like 2015 Topps flagship or Allen & Ginter between 2006 and 2011, or a scenario when Fleer and Upper Deck shared the shelves with Topps, or when Chrome had borders. Then give me a call, card aisle. I'll be there. Repeatedly.

But now? What's all the commotion? Every year we have hot rookies, this isn't anything new. The designs this year are boring. The offerings are mediocre. I don't need this. And, really, I don't want it either.

As a card blogger, this should be obvious. I don't need it because I am able to obtain cards that I like from other collectors. And those transactions are what keeps me going as a collector. They feed my collecting soul. A package in the mail and I'm good for a few days. The urge to drive retail row to arrive at an empty card aisle is diminished.

It doesn't have to be a large package of cards -- although I've received some of those lately -- just one or two cards will do. It's amazing how nourishing they can be. I know you're lonely, card aisle, for someone who actually collects the cards. But you can't feed my need.

Simple two-card envelopes like this satisfies the way the card aisle can't.

I received the Tony Gonsolin card up top and this delightful Maury Wills item from Shane, a former blogger and known Twitter collector.

Notice that both of the cards are unlicensed with airbrushed uniforms in each case. The Wills one is much more appealing to me. Not only does it not feature the horrible Players Weekend uniforms from last year that the Gonsolin card does (thank goodness for the Dodger Stadium bullpen or I'd have no indication that it was a Dodger card), but it is presented in that wonderful oddball way that marked cards from the '80s and into the early '90s.

The Wills is from the 1992 Muscular Dystrophy Association set, "MDA All-Stars". Wills is the only Dodger in the 20-card set and I've probably seen this card a dozen or two times but it's never been mine until now.

Look at that back.

Panini, are you looking at it??

This is a proper unlicensed card back. Wonderful.

Shane isn't the only Twitter collector who has dropped a card or two on me recently.

Here is another one from the man with the most vast Red Sox collection that I know:

This arrived from Mark Hoyle. He has access to Utz potato chip cards where he is. I don't.

Do you know how much a card like this will revive me? How much it will make me stay inside and not tangle with the crazies in the card aisle?

A 2020 Utz card, wonderfully designed -- unlike 2020 Topps flagship -- will do that. I now have two of the Dodgers from this set. Only three to go (gee whiz, how big is this set this year?)

But still, I'm not done with the Twitter folks who have sent me one, soul-lifting card.

Peter, who is quite active on Twitter, as well as writing Baseball Every Night, recently asked me if I needed a handful of 1982 Donruss Dodgers.

My pursuit of the '82 Donruss Dodgers set has long ended. But I have many warm feelings for any set issued in the early '80s and if that set isn't already complete, it's on a "someday mission" for completion. In fact, '82 Donruss is at the top of that list. So, I needed an extra Fernando!

Cards like this make me smile. Do you know how many 2020 cards I've purchased in which there were no smiles? Card aisle, I need smiles.

We're not quite done with the single cards or the Twitter interactions or the smile activations. One more.

This black-refractor of former Dodgers problem child Milton Bradley arrived from the Pancake King himself.

You think you're the only one who has been stacked?

Oh, no, my friend. Wes shows no favorites when stacking cakes. He is an equal opportunity stacker.

I love black refractors from '04 and '05 (no, I don't love them enough to be Gavin). Wouldn't you have liked to have visited the card aisle then, knowing cards like that were possibly emerging from packs?

The current card aisle has none of that. And it can't do what collectors can do: provide the added lift knowing that someone thinks of you enough to send one treasured card personally tailored to your tastes.

A card aisle definitely can't do that. Good lord, no. Topps or Panini? Tailor cards to your tastes? All I get is Mariners and Marlins, most of whom I don't even know.

Card companies don't care what you want. They just care that you buy.

And those crowds of people in the card aisle now? They don't care about collecting. They just care that they can sell.

None of that will sustain me, keep me collecting, continue the smiles as I view my collection.

But envelopes from collectors do. Even something as simple as a single card.

You've got to work on that, card aisle.

Don't worry. I'm not disappearing forever. I'll be back. But it'll never be the same.

I used to need you.

But I have new friends now.