I have kind of a different take on the latest O.J. Simpson fiasco.
Back when sports cards started to go south on us in the early 1990's, many of the established card shops started selling sports memorabilia. It was the new wrinkle, and supposed to save the industry. I'd already dipped my toe into that world, by buying collections that included bats, jerseys, autographs and so on. It was always a bit of a chore to convince the collectors they were real (they were) but not impossible.
But the sport card hobby had attracted the worst kind of fly-by-night dealers already. And it didn't take long for me to realize that the memorabilia market was a con man's playground.
Really, you could take any sport card dealer aside and ask him to define "ethics" and he'd brush you off because he was too busy screwing someone. Awful business.
Being in Bend, there was no real way for me to vouch for the authenticity of anything, so I opted to stay out. Up until then in the sport card business, I'd had a knack of zigging just before the hobby zigged, and zagging just before the hobby zagged. This time the hobby went zigging without me.
It's too bad. The sport card hobby seemed so innocent and fun, at first. But I realized that if I stayed in the business, there was no way I could keep the slime from rubbing off on me. This isn't even a rant; it's what I truly believe.
It was the first of many steps away from the wild west horror show that the sport card industry became. A reflection, in a way, of the way the sports industry as a whole has become: cheating, lying, money-grubbing and infested with egomaniacs.
O.J. fits right in. It's a karmic revenge, a payback. He is surrounded by the most sleazy people you can imagine. Watching a few minutes of Larry King last night reminded me of what cruddy people these sports dealers are. I won't go into all the things they do, but if you buy anything from these guys, you are probably being ripped off.
Back when sports cards started to go south on us in the early 1990's, many of the established card shops started selling sports memorabilia. It was the new wrinkle, and supposed to save the industry. I'd already dipped my toe into that world, by buying collections that included bats, jerseys, autographs and so on. It was always a bit of a chore to convince the collectors they were real (they were) but not impossible.
But the sport card hobby had attracted the worst kind of fly-by-night dealers already. And it didn't take long for me to realize that the memorabilia market was a con man's playground.
Really, you could take any sport card dealer aside and ask him to define "ethics" and he'd brush you off because he was too busy screwing someone. Awful business.
Being in Bend, there was no real way for me to vouch for the authenticity of anything, so I opted to stay out. Up until then in the sport card business, I'd had a knack of zigging just before the hobby zigged, and zagging just before the hobby zagged. This time the hobby went zigging without me.
It's too bad. The sport card hobby seemed so innocent and fun, at first. But I realized that if I stayed in the business, there was no way I could keep the slime from rubbing off on me. This isn't even a rant; it's what I truly believe.
It was the first of many steps away from the wild west horror show that the sport card industry became. A reflection, in a way, of the way the sports industry as a whole has become: cheating, lying, money-grubbing and infested with egomaniacs.
O.J. fits right in. It's a karmic revenge, a payback. He is surrounded by the most sleazy people you can imagine. Watching a few minutes of Larry King last night reminded me of what cruddy people these sports dealers are. I won't go into all the things they do, but if you buy anything from these guys, you are probably being ripped off.