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Topps Baseball Cards are Back
Sometimes it’s about the simple pleasures
I never had the nicest bike. I don’t really remember the brand or the color. My friends had dirt bikes with fancy matte finishes and front and rear pegs. We’d ride them constantly. On the move from one yard to another. A game of Wiffle or some two-hand touch. Sometimes our bikes featured a motor of sorts — a baseball card fastened between the spokes with a clothespin. The baseball card was a childhood staple and the bike was sort of like the Constitution for us kids. It declared our freedom.
One of my favorite things to do was to take that bike up to the gas station to get a pack of Topps. It was about three-quarters of a mile each way, a distance somewhat unheard of by kids today.
My path strayed from paved roads. Around the bend of my street was the neighborhood park. The park connected the old and new parts of the neighborhood. My house was on the old side. I spent countless hours at that park, but my path to the gas station passed the swings, the slide, and the merry-go-round without hesitation.
In the middle of the park was a bridge made of steel and wood that crossed the creek. The bridge had a slight arch to it, which made for an enjoyable rise and fall as I crossed the creek. The bridge was added at some point in my childhood. I can’t…
