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How Do You Know When You Know?

In by Chris on August 31, 2012 at 8:58 pm

When he finally found it, shuffled in with a thousand other cards in a clueless man’s shoebox, he knew instantly.

“Thirty bucks for the whole box,” he said dazedly, fingering the Nolan Byan misprint rookie card, the card he’d searched for through attics and trade shows for thirty-two years. Nolan Byan. His white whale, looking skinny, grinning. Worth five grand, at least.

Late that night, though, the card packed away, doubt filled him. He’d seen counterfeits. On his, was the border thinner on the verticals? The photograph background barely gradated? He felt sick. The card couldn’t be right. Could it?


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