At some point, any collector has to make a decision. Are they simply going to collect everything endlessly until they get tired of it, or are they going to put some guardrails in place to prevent being crushed to death by an ever-growing stack of five-row storage boxes and to give their efforts some focus? Some collectors started out only being interested in one player, team, product, year, or whatever, and are in a good spot from the beginning. For others, like myself, that focus comes later and with some hard-won lessons.
I began collecting baseball cards in the late 1980s as a wee lad. I distinctly remember working hard to make the complete set of 1993 Topps, including the Black Gold subset that I won via a redemption. Yes, I did finish it, and no, I don't know where my gold Derek Jeter rookie ended up. If there was a pack in a store, I wanted it. I didn't care what the product was. As a kid, that was absolutely delightful.
Adult me with that impulse is a problem, as it turns out. When you have more money, you can make more money mistakes, and my parents weren't around to stop me this time. Don't get me wrong, it was fun, and I did have some general areas I focused on. However, other than my surprisingly thorough Michael Soroka collection, narrowing down collecting to "Braves" proved to be both expensive and unfulfilling.
I knew that I would never want to stop ripping packs or doing breaks for fun, but what I keep for the long haul has to mean something to me. For that, I turned to one of the best pitchers to ever play the game, Hall of Famer Greg Maddux.
Introducing the Greg Maddux Quest and how it is about the journey, not the destination
I loved Ken Griffey Jr. and Frank Thomas growing up, but Maddux was the guy who taught me to appreciate the nuances of the game. He made baseball feel like something you could work at to get better and an arena where you could outsmart those who were bigger, stronger, and faster than you. I'll entertain arguments that there were better pitchers in baseball history, but no one was better at the craft part of pitching than Mad Dog. I will not be swayed.
So, I had a player to focus on. That's the first step. He's not just any player, though. Rather, he's someone who has many, many thousands of cards since he first appeared on a licensed release in 1986.
Maddux leaving my beloved Braves after the 2003 season marked the beginning of my semi-hiatus from baseball fandom. I still followed along, but not as closely. At the end of the day, I was heartbroken that my guy was gone.
Given that timeframe, I decided to focus on his minor league years through the end of his time with Atlanta, which basically means into the realm of 2004 card products. While he left after 2003, there is weirdness where some 2004 sets had Maddux is a Braves uniform, so I include those. All told, even with those constraints and getting to (mostly) ignore modern sets, that marks well over 4,000 unique Maddux cards, and yes, I counted and made a checklist.
How far along am I? Well, that's more complicated to answer than you might think. Between 1986 and 2004, I currently possess 2,077 unique Maddux cards. That sounds like a lot, and it is, but this is what I would call the "easy" half, because what is left includes a lot of weird/tough inserts, oddball sets, and genuine grails. The first 1,000 or so went quickly, as they were mostly cards that are worth $1 or less. Now, it is getting harder.
I don't anticipate ever finishing this collection. There are just too many brutally difficult cards to track down, and I don't have unlimited funds at my disposal. Most of the fun is in the finding and slowly adding over time, so I'm not in a hurry to end that. However, what I AM going to do is chronicle my search starting now, right here at Grading on the Curve. You will get semi-regular updates on additions to the collection while discussing the specific challenges and quirks in finding them. This will be a journey through the junk wax era all the way through the reign of relics (it was a simpler time).
I can't wait.
