1976 wrapper
January 12, 2012
Here’s a little prayer to a wrapper. There was a moment a long time ago when this wrapper was fastened around a stack of brand new cards and a rectangular shard of gum. The cards were unknown. They could be any cards. Most likely the moment of possibilities was sped past, the wrapper torn open at the first touch.
Here’s a little prayer to the idea of slowing down, of waiting and listening and wondering. Days are marked inconsequentially with short bursts of shared babble. Most of this babble makes no impact before dissolving in thin air. Other babble has a narcotic hook that catches and tears at the attention momentarily. My mind is full of babble. The days go by.
Here’s a little prayer to the life behind all the babble. Here’s a little prayer to the hope that a wrapper torn open long ago might somehow enclose itself once again around a world of possibilities.
Cardboard Gods 
smells like spring training around the corner
with a trail of balls from the dugout to the pitchers mound
and every team thinking what if.
That sounds like a good way to approach life, Josh.
As far as the card wrapper goes, I, to this day, STILL have about four of those “super sports card lockers” (advertised on the wrapper) in my possession, and they still are chock to the brim with baseball and football cards. They are currently living in semi-retirement in my basement, but they have held up remarkably well over the years.
Been away from the site for a while, Josh. Nice way to bring me back. You sure can write, dude.
“I, to this day, STILL have about four of those “super sports card lockers””
I have my “lockers,” too. (And wayyy too many baseball card wrappers.)
I feel the same way about Topps 1984 wrappers…I recently bought a vending box for $35. It was my first summer of packs. I could help myself, I had to try the gum. It turned to powder in an instant . The smell of pack remained the same, the pull of the Don Mattingly rookie was instant happiness.
1976 was the last year that Spalding supplied baseballs to the big leagues. Those balls were made in the USA (in Massachusetts, I believe). Starting in 1977, the balls came from Rawlings, who first stitched them up in Haiti and then moved their operations to Costa Rica. So you could say that baseball turned to outsourcing early on.
Great piece, by the way.
The possibilities are endless. Those cards have a life way beyond the rapper, even after you know who’s in the pack. Flip ’em, trade ’em, sort ’em. Next year some cards will already take on a new meaning. A decade later, one card may mean entirely something else to you.
Amen