Meet Bob Kenning: a man whose memories of baseball cards involve them meeting a less-than-glamorous fate. As a child, Bob had a penchant for giving his bicycle the sound of a mini roaring engine by clipping his beloved baseball cards to its spokes. The cards were, simply put, innocent casualties of imagination—transforming his humble ride into the stuff of dreams. “A lot of my cards wound up in my bike spokes,” he recalled, no hint of regret—instead, a sense of fond nostalgia.
Fast forward to the present day, and Bob notes a significant generational shift with his 12-year-old grandson, Keegan, who approaches the world of baseball cards with the devotion of a curator at a national museum. “I would say I probably have close to 10,000 cards,” Keegan mentioned with an impressive air of nonchalance, as if he were discussing something as quotidian as a collection of marbles. Each card, a tiny piece of baseball lore, transforms into a treasure trove in Keegan’s careful possession.
The tale of Keegan’s astounding discovery begins not with a grand plan but rather in the idleness of a public holiday. Presidents’ Day presented itself to the Kenning duo as a blank canvas, begging for an adventure—and an adventure it received. Keegan, filled with the eager energy unique to youth, called upon his grandfather with a proposition: “Hey Pawpaw, why don’t we go to Hobby Den?” Bob, always willing to indulge in Keegan’s zest for the hobby, accepted with an open heart.
The Hobby Den, their local card shop, is to the Kennings what Shangri-La is to travelers—a place of wonder and possibility. The glossy wrappers of unopened packs were as beguiling as they were tempting; the thrill is not knowing what treasure might lie within. “My favorite part is probably the thrill of pulling cards,” Keegan acknowledged, the anticipation itself part of the exhilarating draw.
It was during this seemingly typical afternoon, with the relaxed pace of a holiday embracing it, that the extraordinary announced itself. Keegan performed the ritual of unveiling—as ancient and revered as any—and from the pack emerged an artifact so rare, it imbued the moment with an unforgettable glow: an ultra-rare, one-of-a-kind Babe Ruth card bearing the autograph of the man himself.
Even David Nguyen, the seasoned owner of Hobby Den, couldn’t drape a nonchalant cloak over his reaction. His eyes, surely accustomed to all the wonders that the hobby could offer, widened at this mythical find. The rarity of such a card is staggering, its monetary value eclipsed only by its historical significance.
This revelation, however, was greeted by Bob with the warmth of a grandfatherly embrace that focused less on numbers and more on heart. “When we can share this hobby together and have a grandfather-grandson bonding time, I mean, that’s priceless right there,” Bob reflected, capturing the essence of what makes these seemingly mundane trips to Hobby Den so significant.
For Keegan, this card wasn’t just about hitting the jackpot. To him, it’s a symbol of moments spent in joyful suspense, unwrapping parts of history while bonding with his “Pawpaw.” While its worth could tempt the mightiest of collectors to their knees, in Keegan’s hands, the card embodies something more profound—the kind of importance that’s measured not in dollars but in shared smiles and cherished memories.
And so, this legendary artifact was set to remain with him—a reminder that some treasures are measured in the richness of shared experiences and family ties, confirming that sometimes, collecting isn’t just about wealth. It’s about what you glean in the quiet haven of a grandfather’s company, under the bright yet tender light of a shared hobby that weaves a tapestry of family legacy. Keegan might be talking about cards, but through them, he is collecting something much more enduring—priceless moments and timeless memories.
