Memories
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Memories
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Posts
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Followers
Nothing says junk wax like 1990s Topps and Ken Griffey Jr. I pulled these old Topps Magazines out of a box of Becketts I recently picked up and was instantly transported back to being a kid trading and collecting with friends. I remembered the cards that came inside the magazine but had totally forgotten about the fold-out poster with the full checklist — such a cool surprise.
In today’s digital world, it’s a great reminder of how we used to do it — flipping through pages, circling cards we wanted, and chasing down that last one to complete a set.
What’s something from the hobby that instantly takes you back to the good old days?
Check the comments for the other issue that was in there.
2000 Upper Deck Kenyon Martin RC’s
My favorite Bearcat of all time is hands down Kenyon Martin. He was just flat-out fun to watch — tough, explosive, and had that classic Huggins edge to his game. Back when we moved away from Cincinnati, my grandmother used to save every newspaper story about him for me, and the day after senior night in 2000 was no exception.
Four days later, at the C-USA tournament in Memphis, my parents and I were sitting just two rows up from K-Mart’s family when he broke his leg right in front of us. One of those moments that just sticks with you forever.
The other day I stumbled across these three rookie cards, and there was no hesitation — I knew I had to have them. A little piece of nostalgia from one of my all-time favorite eras of Bearcat basketball.
Every time my daughter goes out shopping with my in-laws, she somehow finds her way back home with a new football card for me. It’s become this quiet little tradition between us — nothing planned, just something she does because she knows how much I love collecting. This weekend she brought me home this 2024 Donruss Optic Blue Stars Joe Burrow from a local festival.
Those cards have quickly become my favorites in the whole collection. Not because of the player or the value, but because of what they represent — her thinking of me in that small moment.
It’s funny how the things that end up meaning the most usually aren’t the rare ones or the expensive ones… they’re the ones that come from the heart.
Over the last few years, there’s been a big shift for me — in a lot of things — but especially when it comes to sports. My dad and I were really close, but when it came to sports, that was our thing. Sundays were always football days, and every March we had our yearly tradition of watching every minute of the first two rounds of the NCAA Tournament together.
My dad passed away on July 2, 2022, and ever since then, I just haven’t been able to find that same love for the games. I’m thankful that the last NFL season he got to be a part of was the Bengals’ Super Bowl run. That year we started things off at Paycor for the season opener — an overtime win against the Vikings — and rode that wave every week after. The only game we missed was during a family vacation for fall break… which ended up being the week we found out my dad had cancer.
Even that next spring, going through chemo and radiation, he refused to skip our March Madness weekend. That was just him — tough as nails and always keeping traditions alive.
Since then, watching football or college basketball hasn’t felt the same. Some friends tried to keep the March Madness tradition going those first couple of years, but it just wasn’t the same. This year, I decided to sit it out completely.
But this year I also started collecting again — and that’s brought back a lot of good memories. Going to card shows, hitting up our local card shops together, just spending time talking sports and the hobby. I can’t help but think about how much fun he would’ve had getting back into collecting. My dad and I had a lot in common, but one thing about both of us — when we got into something, we jumped all the way in. I know this would’ve been no different.
I’m not really sure why I felt like writing this tonight. Maybe it’s because I’ve found a bit of peace in this community — seeing everyone share their collections, their stories, and their memories. Maybe it’s just because collecting reminds me of him. I don’t really know.
What I do know is that I’m thankful — for this hobby, this community, and for the folks I’ve met along the way who have become friends.

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