Today we had reason to be in an entirely different town in our state, and because we had to get a new iron we stopped at Target while in this entirely different town. Oh by the way, the reason we had to get a new iron is that the one we owned previously turned into a fireball in my hand yesterday, causing a second degree burn and what the Urgent Care doctor called "a shrapnel wound." So really, the whole concept of pack searching is something we truly see in perspective, as we feel fortunate that a) our children were nowhere nearby when this happened and b) my injuries weren't far worse.
But I digress.
Since the one card shop we used to frequent closed a while back, and ever since I realized that the fellow who works at a store near our Target stops by there EVERY DAY to pack search and remove absolutely anything of extra thickness or weight, we've stopped spontaneously picking up baseball cards while on errands. Perhaps you've noticed this, as our grumpiness has contributed to our relative quietness. It's not that we only want autographs or game-used cards--that is not the case--it's that we want a fair playing field.
So because we were not on our own turf Target, I did in fact stick my uninjured hand into a box of 2011 Topps Heritage and remove a pack. I did not, even for a moment, feel up the other packs in the box.
When we got home, we opened the pack and there were three really fun cards inside: one was a Kyle Drabek. I dunno, we just wanted one, ok? Isn't it kind of great?:
So that is what it must feel like to wander into a store, buy one pack, and be happy with the results. Hasn't happened in months and months. And months. The thickness of the cardstock is pleasing, too. We're going to go read your reviews of 2011 Heritage but our view is: five out of a possible five dings!
What were the '90s like?
7 hours ago