The 90s were a simpler time. No global war on terrorism. No looming debt panic. Hanson.
When I think back to the halcyon days of that decade, I can’t help but recall the rush of walking into my local baseball card store, perfectly named “The Dugout,” in McLean, VA. My friends and I would press our little fingers against the glass cases and point out the small glossy paper treasures within. We tore through packs of Upper Decks with the thrill of an oenophile opening a case of ’82 Lafite. Frank Thomas cards were a cause for celebration. Ken Griffey, Jr. special editions elicited dizzying euphoria. Beckett‘s card price guide for us was something between a Bible, a security blanket, and an addict’s stash. Ah, youth…
Little did I know that we was participating in a financial bubble on par with Nasdaq and credit default swaps — with admittedly less dire consequences. Slate’s Dave Jamieson has the story:
By the ’80s, baseball card values were rising beyond the average
hobbyist’s means. As prices continued to climb, baseball cards were
touted as a legitimate investment alternative to stocks, with the Wall Street Journal
referring to them as sound “inflation hedges” and “nostalgia futures.”
Newspapers started running feature stories with headlines such as
“Turning Cardboard Into Cash” (the Washington Post), “A Grand Slam Profit May Be in the Cards” (the New York Times), and “Cards Put Gold, Stocks to Shame as Investment” (the Orange County Register). A hobby bulletin called the Ball Street Journal,
claiming entrée to a network of scouts and coaches, promised collectors
“insider scouting information” that would help them invest in the cards
of rising big-league prospects. Collectors bought bundles of rookie
cards as a way to gamble legally on a player’s future…In 1989, the Upper Deck Co. would transform the industry with
flashy, high-priced cards aimed at investment-minded collectors. As the
sales of new sports cards swelled to more than $1 billion a year,
children began to flee the hobby, turned off by the pricey packs and
confounding number of sets. The baseball strike of 1994 ushered in an
industrywide hangover that still hasn’t ended. Revenues from new sports
cards have fallen to around $200 million a year, roughly one-seventh of
what they were at their peak. While vintage cards like the T206 Honus
Wagner and the 1952 Topps Mickey Mantle have continued to soar in
value, baseball card’s boom times produced no such valuable
merchandise. Those 1988 Donruss cards, once considered a savvy
investment, can now be bought in bulk for around 1 cent apiece.
Read the whole thing.
