Buddy Bell, Topps '87

As a baseball loving boy in the early and mid '90s, I had an extensive collection of cards, some of which had considerable monetary value (at least according to the secondhand copies of Beckett that my grandfather filtered down to me).

However, despite close attention to and awareness of the fluid value of all my cards denoted by Beckett's directional arrows, I was prone to coveting cards that were worth nothing. Most of these were obscure Boston players (Bob Zupcic, Carlos Quintana, etc...) but I also became strangely enamored of the 1987 Topps Buddy Bell card (below).


I knew nothing (and still don't) of Buddy Bell beyond what I learned from the stats on the back of his card, yet I still carefully slipped at least half a dozen copies of this particular card into protective sleeves and binders.

Early signs of irresponsibility, financial indifference, and an affection for alliteration and the irrational tenets of Romanticism?