Under my nose

 

My trip out of town for a few days was canceled. No, it wasn't COVID-related, but we're back at the nest without a lot to do.

 

The wife and daughter decided they wanted to check out the flea market close to the downtown area. I've mentioned this place before. Back when it was fairly new I went there a time or two and found baseball cards.

 

But I hadn't been to the place since before the pandemic, I think the last time was in the spring of 2019. The card selection had dwindled to next-to-nothing and with the hysteria over cards in the last couple of years, I didn't bother making another trip, surely there would be nothing left.

 

We walked into the place and it was clear it had expanded over those couple years I hadn't been there. Lots more stations to squeeze in people's junk, and they had added an upstairs portion. I don't have a lot of use for most flea market items, but I do gravitate toward periodicals and old record albums and there were lots of those -- stuff it didn't used to have. Things were looking up for this flea market! But would there be cards?

I didn't seem to be finding any. I did spot those drinking glasses with the card replicas painted on them, the '61 Brooks Robinson, the '73 Joe Morgan. But nothing else. Yet there was still so much to look through.

I had lost track of my daughter, but as I was leafing through some record albums, she strolled over and said, "did you see the baseball cards?"

What? No.

"They're over there. In a case. There were some men crowded around it."

Oh, geez.

I followed her to the spot, half thinking I don't want to be around some flipper-type dudes. But as we got closer, there was nobody there.

I looked through the case. There were several vintage selections, mostly from the '60s and early '70s, most that I already owned. Then I spotted one card I didn't have, that I needed. It was a 1970 Topps Roberto Clemente. And the price was good for the condition. 20 bucks.

Well, what do I do now? I never know what to do when the cards are in a case. "I'm going to have to ask, aren't I?" I said. Ugh.

 

Before I tackled that, I looked at the stuff next to the case. There were some cards out that I could look at and hold. Mostly late '70s/early '80s stuff, but there were a few '60s cards.

 

I snagged two 1966 Topps, the '65 RBI leaders card at the top of the post and this Jim Perry card.  Two bucks for each, price was right. Now, about asking about that Clemente.

The market was so filled with stuff that I didn't even know where the cash register was. This definitely wasn't an issue during earlier visits. But the place seemed to know this as I discovered a large sign hanging from the ceiling that said "CASHIER" and pointing downward.

 

I stopped at the desk and asked the young woman about the case. She said, "I need to call my boss."  She got on the phone and said to the person on the other end, "I think you better stay here, someone needs the case opened again."

Man, this hobby these days.

The boss was just driving up to the market. He walked in and walked me to the case and opened it. I reached in and grabbed the Clemente and said, "That's it." He seemed surprised, like he expected me to clear out the case.

 

I walked back to the cashier and paid for my two '66 cards and my 20 DOLLAR ROBERTO CLEMENTE CARD.

 

 Before I bought it, I made sure to look up the various online places to compare 1970 Clemente costs. Anything 20 bucks or under was in far worse condition. Anything close to this condition was $50 or more.

That made me know that this was a steal and then I started to get all bubbly inside. "The guys crowding around the case didn't get it!" "This is a big deal, why is nobody acting like it's a big deal?" "I'm glad nobody is acting like it's a big deal!"

There are some minor condition issues, a dinged corner, a tiny fleck of paper loss on the side of Clemente's head, a rough portion of the left edge. But there is no way I thought I'd get a Clemente card in this shape for my 1970 Topps pursuit.

 

The back looks fine, too.

I walked away with my paper bag pretty satisfied and found my daughter to thank her and explain the deal. "Good," she said in that way where you know she's happy you're happy but doesn't care about the card.

I never expected to find anything at the flea market, not even random bags of early '90s junk wax. I didn't see any other cards in the place, but its reputation just rocketed in my eyes and, to think, it was right under my nose.

Also, I almost didn't go.