Got 'im, got 'im, need 'im, got 'im.

I recall being a kid in the late 70's and early 80's and the familiar refrain on the school yard at recess was "got 'im, got 'im, need 'im, got 'im". It didn't matter if they were hockey cards, baseball cards or McDonald's stickers we were trying to complete our collection and have fun doing it.

I still have all my doubles and triples piled up, wrapped in an elastic and stored in an old shoebox. The time spent in my backpack going to and from school showing up on the slightly worn edges of the cards. But that's what you get when you take your trading cards with you to try to make your collection bigger. A game we called "flipsies" was the big draw. We'd have four of us standing around and we'd draw straws to see who drops first and what order we'd continue in, then the first card would drop. Standing straight up and arm dropped to waist height we'd flip a card and let it fall to the ground. This sequence would continue on through the order. When you flipped, any cards you landed on we're claimed as your own. If you "needed 'im" then that card was shuffled quickly to the bottom of your own pile while you continued to toss your doubles. I'm not sure kids even know how to play that game today, and I will also admit that I have no clue what the hell a pokemon is!

As the collectors took control of the collector card market I found myself avoiding taking my quarters and dollar bills to the corner store for my packs of cards and pink, stale gum sticks. Instead, I found my way to flea markets and collector stores where I could forgo the inevitable doubles and stale gum and just buy the entire collection, shrink wrapped and elegantly boxed in an O'Pee Chee or UpperDeck boxset. The times were a changing. I bought plastic binders to preserve the cards and plastic holders to forever enshrine my prized cards. One was a Mario Lemieux rookie card, and another was a Mats Sundin rookie card. Looking at Mats in a Quebec Nordiques sweater was quite nostalgic.

As I got older and older and moved from my parents home, to my college apartment, to my own apartment shared with my girlfriend, back to my parents home, to our own purchased home and then to another new home. I have seemly lost my complete boxed sets and plastic binder sheets. But the other day I stumbled across an old shoe box that had managed to survive all the moves. As I took the top off to see what was inside, the smell of stale, pink gum was still inside. After all the moves, my collection of doubles and triples, piled up and wrapped in an elastic and still stored in an old shoe box is perhaps the last remaining trinket of a completely different era of collector cards.