Thomas Wolfe can eat cake...or a Smiley Face cookie : You CAN go Home Again.

 

New York City is hot in the summer.

            Unbearably hot.

            Tropical hot.

            Its longitude is on par with Madrid.

            Yesterday it was 100 degrees in Madrid.

            I’m tired of New York City in the summer…to say the least.

            New York City summers make me wish that I was independently wealthy. So wealthy that I could pack up every Mid-May and head to some air-conditioned compound whose insides I’d never leave. I wouldn’t bother anyone. I’d never venture outside. I wouldn't waste my money building penis-shaped rockets. I wouldn’t come back until Mid-October. At the earliest. When the heat is gone. When the tourists are gone.

            Living in New York City during the summer is akin to some kind of insanity.

            I feel crazy living here from May-September.

            Last summer (last summer? Ha! I’m mean last YEAR) I was stuck in New York City. Mostly stuck in my Trump-loving, mask-hating neighborhood in Brooklyn. I walked circles around the estuary in an effort to not go mad. Jogged before the sun came up to avoid the heat. Went to the local LCS if it was safe and not 100 degrees outside. The better part of my time was spent indoors reading, watching TV and watching my electric bill reach astronomical amounts, as I pushed the air conditioner beyond its known limits. What I did probably wasn’t good for the climate.

            I’d like to care about climate change.

            But I live in New York City during the summer.

            Last week I was finally able to get out of New York City. I went back home to Pittsburgh. Now, Pittsburgh isn’t some bastion of Arctic air. I did not go to an air-conditioned compound while in the Steel City. Unless you count the tin box of a plane I flew in. I hadn't been to Pittsburgh Internatinal Airport in a long time.

        It was nice to see this guy.

   

    I stayed with my parents. And they keep their home relatively cool. At least for me they did. Thanks mom and dad! Central air is a Godsend to someone who lives in an apartment in New York. It was nice to not move from in front of a fan and experience complete and shocking climate change like I do in my Brooklyn apartment.

            Consistency is key.

But Pittsburgh has its hot days.

It gets humid in Pittsburgh.

There is one thing that Pittsburgh has in the summer that New York City doesn’t.

Breeze.

I felt actual air circulate outside.

Another thing that Pittsburgh has that I find it hard to come by in New York City, is a reasonable place to buy sports cards. I’m not trying to slag-off the few and far between LCS that I’ve come across in the Five Boroughs, but most of them are over-priced. I get it. Rent. And most of them just cater to the new. I’m having a hard time finding places like antique store and flea markets in New York City. At least ones that sell cards. Older cards. At reasonable prices.

I had some luck in Pittsburgh.

The first place I went was an antique store in the North Versailles section of the eastern Pittsburgh suburbs. The Hub. 

I was at The Hub back in my April visit, and found a lot of success there, especially with Pirates team sets from the 1980s and some card lots. Last time I bought a 150-card lot of 1976 Topps baseball cards. A fine little starter set. The 1976 Topps set is one of my favorites. Once life settles down a little bit, I can’t wait to spend some time putting it together.

This time at The Hub? I was not as lucky. It seemed like they had more of the same. Or the turn-over in cards just isn’t that big in antique shops. The Hub pretty much had what they had back in April. Assorted lots of sports cards and non-sports cards. One could put together a pretty nice Superman: The Movie set if one were so inclined. They had Pirates sets, but they were the ones that I bought last time. There were a few vending boxes, mostly Topps from the late 80s/early 90s. Some lots of cards from the mid-80s.

Not much that caught my eye this time.

Except for a 150-card lot of 1979 Topps cards for ten bucks. The lot was at The Hub the last time that I was there, but I passed it up because I had a ton of other items and felt that maybe I was spending a little too much money on baseball cards. I have my Topps baseball sets done from 1982-1992, and the goal now is to start putting together 1980 and 81, and then some sets from the 70s that I like. I like 1979 Topps. I figured why not start that set too.

The 1976 lot yielded me a good 145 cards, and only a few doubles.

I was hoping for the same from this 150-card 1979 lot.

That wasn’t the case this time.

Buck Martinez anyone?

He wasn't even the worst in terms of doubles.

In all I ended up with about 64 cards to start my 1979 set.

But the day wasn’t a total wash.

I got to have two drafts of Miller High Life in a townie bar with my mom while some dude chain smoked and played the poker machines until he was broke. There were two TVs that played nothing but news about the Delta Variant of Covid. People need to get vaccinated. As I sat there drinking my drafts, I found myself dumbfounded by the idiocy and ignorance inherent in Americans. Yet not entirely surprised.

At least there was chicken fingers and French Fries.

And that night I got to go here.

I left Pittsburgh when PNC Park was only two years old, so I don’t have a lot of baseball memories of the place. Mine dwell in the confines of Three Rivers Stadium. I’m one of those people who miss Three Rivers Stadium. But PNC is a beautiful park to watch baseball in. And I was able to go with my brother, my old man, and some old friends. Despite a rain delay, the usually hapless Buccos pulled out a victory against the Mets.

I got to see these two guys play.

And this guy live for the first time, despite Citi Field being only a train ride or two away.

I was back at my parents in time to finally fall asleep around two in the morning.

With visions of this place dancing in my head.

Looks like a dilapidated movie theater right?

That’s because it IS a dilapidated movie theater.

Rossi’s Flea Marker (or Pop-up Marketplace as they refer to themselves online) is a 100,000 square foot complex that used to be a Lowe’s movie theater. With flea markets come card dealers. Unless you’re in Park Slope Brooklyn. Then its artisan bakers selling organic cookies. At Rossi’s there were at least three card dealers that I wanted to visit. Full disclosure, I had visited the Marketplace before. The last time being in December of 2019. I can’t remember what I bought back then save this card.

And maybe this card.

And maybe a few of this guy’s cards.

Gross!

I meant THIS guy's cards.

I knew that I wanted to get back to Rossi’s as soon as I was vaccinated and able to travel home.

I did not leave disappointed.

For some reason I’ve been on a real football card jag lately. Not current product. The outrageousness of The Hobby in the last year has soured me on buying modern football product. So has the price. That said, I do have some singles that I want from current stuff. But with this trip to Rossi’s, I wanted vintage football. Or at least football cards from the 1970s and 1980s. 

Cards of these guys.

Because I’ve been reading this book.

I was really young when the Steelers dynasty was in full bloom. In fact, I was less than a year old when they won the first of their four Super Bowls in the 70s. By the time I got to know some of those legendary players, they were retired already. Or like Bradshaw, Harris, Stallworth and Lambert, they were at the tail end of their football careers. The Pomerantz book made them come alive for me. Because I’m a card collector, that excitement translated into me wanting to get some of the cards of those legendary Steelers players.

One specific vendor had exactly what I wanted.

And for a buck-a-card.

I left his kiosk (or whatever you call it) still wanting to buy more.

Which is fine.

I intend to go back.

If you non-vaccinated assholes don't ruin it for everyone again.

As for the Steelers…I’ve always had a back-and-forth relationship with them. More mistress than marriage. All in or all out. Those teams in the 1970s cast quite a shadow over the teams that I grew up watching. And I watched those teams sparingly. Mark Malone? Bubby Brister? Even Neil O’Donnell. Meh. Not when we once had a Terry Bradshaw.

The Steelers themselves cast a shadow over the other teams in Pittsburgh. I’m talking pre-Lemieux or pre-Stanley Cup Penguins. The Steelers legend cast a constant shadow over my true love, The Pittsburgh Pirates. Now that might’ve been fine and dandy with some of those horrid Pirates teams in the mid-80s, but by the late 80s/early 90s, the Pirates were the team to see in Pittsburgh. The team fans should’ve been coming out en mase to root for.

But it never felt that way.

The Pirates were in first place in 1990, 1991, and 1992.

Yet as soon as Steelers training camp hit…

Well, let’s just say there could be a nuclear war and the top story in Pittsburgh would be what’s going on in Steelers training camp.

And then the carnage.

The current Steelers, I watch from afar. I root for them. I hope they win. I was excited when they won the Super Bowl after the 2008 season. I was bummed when they lost to Green Bay after the 2011 one. Most of the time these days, I just pay them a passing glance. I’ve watched the New York Giants more than The Steelers over the past decade or so. I was excited to finally get this guy’s rookie card.

I just find it hard to really get in there and let Steeler fandom reign over me.

Why?

Maybe it’s because of this guy.

I don’t know…there’s something strange about me.

I don’t like men who assault women and get away with it.

Call me crazy...After all, I DO live in New York City in the summer.

I’m looking forward to when Big Ben retires.

Maybe then I’ll become a true Steelers fan again.

I visited one other dealer at Rossi’s Marketplace. Well, two, really. A couple of guys who shared one room, and it was vague as to whom you were buying from. I’d pick up a card and ask how much, and one of the guys would say, that’s not mine, that’s his. Same thing would happen with the other one. It was a strange set-up they had. But once that confusion abated, I got down to some card buying.

Found the '77 Brock and '79 Reggie for cheap.

The '75 Brock and '72 Yaz for two-bucks.

Yeah, the ’72 Yaz has creases.

But it’s a ’72 Yaz.

One of the dealers had boxes of singles for a number of sets. Aside from my small (and smaller) lots of 1976 and 1979 Topps baseball, I’m actively working on completing the 1980 and 1981 Topps baseball sets. I need about 500 for the former and about 200 for the latter. Before going to Pittsburgh, I made it a point to photograph my checklists just in case I came across a dealer such as this. I was able to add a good 50 cards to my 1980 set from that vendor.

I would’ve added more...had he let me look through the box of 1980 cards myself.

But what can you do?

People have their quirks.

At least it wasn’t 90 degrees and humid out.

            Overall, it was a good trip home. I got to see a lot of family and friends that I haven’t seen in a long time. Got to bullshit over memories. A second cousin of mine said her cheeks hurt so much from laughter. That’s can’t be a bad thing, right? I had such a good time I’m looking forward to the next trip. Maybe in September or October. When there’s fall-like weather outside in Pittsburgh.

            While in New York City?

            It’ll still be 90 degrees.

 …and don’t even get me started on the bullshit winters here.

Thanks for reading! Happy collecting!

NEXT FRIDAY: Since thievery seems to be all the rage in the sports card world, we’re going to talk about that. Why? I was reminded by an old buddy that aside from having all the cards we wanted, Dimitri Danielopoulos (his name changed to protect him) used to try and steal our cards right from under our noses. So, we’re going back. Yeah. Back to 1984…and the time I almost lost my coveted 1984 Topps Pirates team set because of some punk-ass thief.