What Boredom Does: A Repack Story

Yes, the above image means that I spend $5 on yet more stuff I didn't need. It's a shame, really. When I walk into a drug store with no sports cards worth having, I should probably just take whatever bit of cash is burning a hole in my pocket and stuff it in a jar or something. Anyway, here are the dozen or so cards that were inside the pack that were of the most interest to me. And no, there was no memorabilia card. I'll save you the suspense.

It's sad when a player's signature is more legible than the actual block letter printing. It didn't scan well, but even to the naked eye these are hard cards to read.

This would have been pretty awesome in 1992. Is there much of a market for Jose Canseco cards anymore, even for just his notoriety?

Cards of The Hawk have never been in high demand. This is probably worth 10 cents today and 20 years ago was probably worth 10 cents.

It's a card from the unattainable set. It looks awesome!

This year's Topps Archives set does not make me like the 1980 design anymore.

Weird. There were actually two 2012 cards in the pack. I'm quite sure that this pack has been sitting on the shelf taunting me since Series 1 was brand new.

Cards like these were just there for the purpose of mocking all of the amateur artist/sports fans in classrooms everywhere.

What a goofy uniform. I want to see the Rangers wear these as a throwback.

Nolan Ryan gets the "final tribute" treatment here, more of a rarity these days than it was 20+ years ago.

At one point, the floundering career of Fernando Valenzuela took a tour stop through my home town of Portland by way of the visiting AAA team he was trying to make a comeback with. This card was actually produced a year or two after that happened. I have no idea what Fernando did after that day in Portland. Someone told me he was briefly a Cardinal, even.

Viola looks like he is reminiscing about the best breakfast cereals he's eaten in his life.

Wow, this is... wow. Any fans of badly miscut oddball cards?

The three promised "vintage" cards are always from the late '70s, in my experience. Such was the case this time, with a trio of 1977 Topps cards presenting themselves.

Could anyone tell a '70s ballplayer and a modern day hipster apart if they stood side by side? (Assume that the baseball player isn't wearing a baseball uniform, of course.)

Will R.A. Dickey lead a knuckleballer revival? Or will those wacky goofballs go the way of the Knuckle Brothers, Niekro and Niekro? I like to ask open-ended questions here.