The 1951 World Series and Flipping
I didn’t pay much attention to the 1951 World Series because the baseball addiction was working slowly. The fifth grade started out uneventfully and there were so many other things to do besides watching baseball and going to school.
Roy, Jeff, my cousin Allan, Tommy and I would play ball in the street after school every day. We collected baseball cards, which we called “tickets,” and I learned how to ”flip.” Baseball cards were worth something then because they were real, you could actually TOUCH them, and the only reason a bent or creased card decreased in value was that it was harder to flip accurately.
On a cloudy September day, my cousin Allan came upstairs with a handful of cards. They were not baseball cards but that was not unusual. We collected football cards, Wild West cards, and “Fight the Red Menace” cards, which were a propaganda vehicle popular during the Korean War.
I was in the kitchen eating supper when Allan stuck out his hand and shoved a stack of about fifty Wild West cards in front of me.
“You got any?”
I told him I didn’t know what they were. Allan explained that he bought a few packs and won the rest by flipping with Jeff and Tommy.
“What is ’flipping?’”
He laughed, took a card, placed it between his index finger and thumb, and let his right hand drop to his side, parallel to his knee. He swung his right hand into the air so that it was behind him, keeping his elbow stiff.
“Heads.”
Allan’s hand moved in an arc from a position parallel to the back of his knee to one in front of his knee. He released the card an instant before his hand was even with his knee. The Wild West card flipped over and over, hit the ground and the face of the card, with a picture of Allen ”Rocky” Lane, was showing. Allan was pleased and I was interested.
“Where did you get them?” I asked, trying not too appear too fascinated.
”At the candy store when we went out to lunch.”
”How much were they”
“They cost a lot of money. You get six cards and some gum for a nickel.”
The next day, I bought a pack of cards and during lunch I practiced flipping. It took a few days, but I became pretty good.
It was quickly October, and the kids in school were mildly interested in the World Series. The Yankees were playing the Giants and most of the kids rooted for the Yankees. I had expanded my card collection from Wild West to include baseball cards, and the best thing that could happen was to get a Yankees baseball card.
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