I have a problem completing sets. Without fail, every time I think my work is done, and I go to slide the last card into it's sleeve in a nine pocket page, I find a blank space, sometimes two. And I'll check my list and see it's either not listed or already checked and then I'll scratch my head and wonder how this happened.
The '81 Fernando there represents the final card I "needed" for the '81 Topps set. This time it's actually complete. It's the 3rd time I thought I had completed the set. What makes it all the more frustrating was I know I've owned several copies of that card over the years, at times more than one. In any event, the 1981 binder in my closet finally passed it's inspection, and I was able to mark it off on the cover of my need book. I filled out my sportlots order (4 cards were the same price as 1 for shipping purposes) with the other three cards in the picture. The Yount has long been one I've sought but always been scared off by the price, but finally indulged, as this seller had it for less than the price of a pack of 2015 Topps.
While seemingly always needing one more card is an annoyance of set collecting, the positives of set collecting far out weigh the negatives. One of my favorite things about set collecting, especially the vintage stuff from before I was even born, is that it forces me to look at every card. Which in turn, leads me to discovering a lot of great looking cards I likely never would have noticed otherwise.
The 1976 Topps Ed Crosby is one such card. I love all the natural sunlight (reminds me of the Damn the Torpedoes record sleeve, the paper sleeve insert, not the cover), the inclusion of both dirt and grass in the background, and above all the uniforms (and stirrups are the perfect height and cut). Everything about this card just screams 1976 to me, or at least, what I imagine 1976 was like. Cleveland needs to bring these back these uniforms. This is how you avoid the Chief Wahoo controversy.
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