The Pleasure Trap (Guest Blog)
The Pleasure Trap
We pull into the parking lot of Side’s Supermarket on a sunny Saturday morning, ready to grab a few groceries for the week ahead. I unintentionally slam the heavy door of our white two-door Mercury Cougar, flinching and quickly glancing at my mom. She cuts her eyes over at me with a slight turn of her head, then smiles—a little annoyed but also pleased that her 55-pound, 8-year-old son has finally conquered the heavy door. I scoot past the old white gas pumps, pulling the metal handle of the glass door. The bell rings, alerting the clerk to our arrival.
We make our way through the aisles, checking off items as we drop them into the cart (or "buggy" for us Southerners). Of course, I’m making last-minute changes to Mom’s shopping list as we go. Some of my suggestions slip by, but most are quickly shot down.
Finally, we circle back to the register, loading the conveyor with our haul—minus the Bill and Ted’s Excellent Cereal I’d lobbied for in aisle 4. I scan the checkout racks for a consolation prize and, sure enough, I spot something that catches my eye: green and yellow packaging with a round object in the center, emblazoned with the word “Baseball” in big red letters. I stop and lock onto the wax packs of 1990 Topps, with their “Play at the Plate” neighbor, 1990 Score Baseball. I grab a pack of each and turn on my best puppy dog eyes and pouty lip.
"Sure," says Mom. Lip deactivated, grin activated.
And that’s all I remember. I'm not sure who came out of those packs, but I know what did.
Thirty-five years later, that memory has never faded. I can say the same for my time on the ball field with Dad, who helped coach my teams until high school. Playing baseball, collecting baseball cards, and coaching baseball isn’t the source of my joy—it’s simply the vessel, something I enjoyed, that provided deeper and longer-lasting connections and experiences.
In moments of happiness, it can be difficult to distinguish between pleasure and joy, but there is a real difference. This difference could have a lasting effect on your sports card hobby.
Opening my first packs of baseball cards was undeniably pleasurable. In fact, we experience many pleasures daily: enjoying a good meal, watching a funny movie, taking a warm shower, buying something we want—the list goes on. However, pleasure can be a trap. It comes from external sources, and while it brings happiness for a time, the hunger inevitably returns—sometimes even stronger than before. In some cases, greater pleasures are sought to fill the void, and we can even get swept up in what popular culture tells us will make us happy. If we’re not experiencing the latest trends, we might feel left out.
Pleasure can lead to addiction and an emptiness nothing can fill. It can cause us to lose sight of our “WHY.”
My joy in this hobby began at the age of 8. It hasn’t always been consistent, and at times, it has been absent over the last 35 years. But joy, unlike pleasure, requires nurturing and growth because the source is internal. Joy is a deeper, sustained state of being, not tied to impulsive behaviors. Practicing mindfulness and gratitude are great ways to foster joy in the hobby. Understanding why you collect a particular card can greatly influence your approach and lead to fulfilling experiences, not just another piece of cardboard tucked away in storage.
Today, Side’s Supermarket is gone, as are the cards from those two packs. But the memory and the joy endure. It didn’t really matter what cards came out of those packs when I was a kid, nor did I even consider their “value.” I was simply happy to connect to a game my parents had introduced me to, learning more about the men who played in the big leagues.
Here’s the tricky part: balancing pleasure and sustaining joy. It’s okay to experience the pleasures of the hobby, but you need to know your boundaries and focus on what brings you joy as a collector. Be intentional in your choices. Don’t focus on things you didn’t have in the first place. Instead, mentally walk through experiences and outcomes, and see how you feel afterward. Remorse can be an aftereffect of acting on pleasure, but if you can live with the results, regardless of outcome, it becomes part of your hobby journey.
We are all unique individuals, so our collecting styles will vary. It’s up to each of us to recognize what the pleasure trap looks like in our lives, but remember: you have hobby friends who are willing to lend a hand.
