Dinner with Mike Gidwitz: A Story about Kindness

Have you ever experienced serendipity? If you have and you’re a baseball card collector I hope you’ll enjoy this true story.

            Four summers ago I met someone by pure chance. And I’m not ashamed to admit that as a collector it was a thrill. But I’ll also say it was even more satisfying to discover that the man I met was a kind, fun-loving person who enjoys collecting as much as you and I do. He just has a lot more money to spend on his collecting passion.

            In spring 2016 I decided to get new carpeting for my condo here in Chicago. I did my homework and narrowed the choices down to a couple of suppliers.

            The salesman for one of the carpet companies, I’ll call him “Pete,” came over one Saturday morning to measure my condo’s floors. In the living room he noticed my Mickey Mantle poster on the wall. It’s the 1986 one by Jim Jordan that celebrates the 30th anniversary of his Triple Crown season. I then pointed to the stacks of baseball card albums against a wall and said, “Yeah, believe it or not, I still collect baseball cards.”

            “You collect cards? I know a guy who collects cards. His name is Mike. Mike Gidwitz.”

            “Whaaaat? You know Mike Gidwitz?”

            “Yeah, I think I can arrange for you to meet him.”

            Now, why was Pete willing to introduce his good friend to me? Obviously he thought it could help him seal a sale.

            A few weeks later the dinner was set. It occurred at a favorite restaurant of Mike’s, Mon Ami Gabi, a French bistro that was just a short walk from my condo.

            I’ll admit I was a little nervous. Should I pepper him with questions about the famous T206 Honus Wagner tobacco baseball card (PSA 8) he once owned (paying $641,500) for four years? No. Counterintuitive? Yes. Instead, I decided to just let the conversation flow naturally, wherever it might lead.

            Why? I had read two books that featured Mike prominently: The Card by Michael O’Keeffe and Teri Thompson and Mint Condition by Dave Jamieson. Both made it clear that he lost interest in baseball cards long ago. That night he made it clear to me he was disillusioned with how the vintage card collecting industry had evolved and even with baseball itself. Most understandable.

“As time progressed, cards became more valuable, so unscrupulous people learned how to fix them,” he states in The Card. “That was part of the reason I decided to stop collecting baseball cards.”

            As soon as we met, Mike started off the conversation telling me about his many decades as a card collector. He also shared with me one trip he took with his brother Jimmy in 1975. It was to what became a well-known vintage baseball card show that 45 years ago was held in Willow Grove, Pa. That’s where he met Rob Lifson, a teenager back then but already extremely knowledgeable about vintage baseball cards. They formed a friendship that remains to this day.

            So is it any surprise that when I told Mike I was starting to slowly auction off my baseball card collection that he would recommend REA, the auction house Lifson started? Remember, this dinner occurred in June 2016; Lifson had retired six months earlier. Fortunately for the hobby, Lifson chose wisely when he promoted Brian Dwyer to run the auction house he started. REA has done quite well in the past four years and that’s in large part to Dwyer’s integrity.

            While he was an active card collector, Mike was ripped off numerous times. And yet he remains a people person. A kind, slightly eccentric, very wealthy, people person. In fact, if you visit his website, www.preciouspaper.com, you’ll find a picture of him in front of framed pictures and drawings, many of them showcasing Mad Magazine’s Alfred E. Neuman. Underneath the picture is a quote, “The best part of collecting is the people you meet.”

It’s unfortunate some of the people he’s met have taken advantage of his kindness. The story that blew me away is found in The Card. A guest of his (and his son) visited Mike in his Chicago condo. A card worth about $500 was sitting on the table. Mike walked out of the room for a minute and when he came back the card was gone. The guest had pocketed it. A fight ensued. Mike pulls the card out of the guy’s pocket. He ended up with a broken hand. And all of this in front of the guest’s kid. Crazy.

As the dinner wound down, Pete headed off to the bathroom. Then something unexpected happened. Mike pulled out his wallet, handed me a business card, and said, “I believe I can help you.” He told me the hours I should call him. I took the card, nodded, smiled, and thanked him. As I walked home to my condo I wondered what to make of this. Then it hit me: Another example of Mike’s kindness. For the record, I never did call him. His gesture spoke volumes about his kindness.

            In case you’re wondering, I planned to pay for the dinner. It was my pleasure. But as I pulled my wallet out Mike grabbed my arm and said, “No. We’ll split it three ways.” And so that’s what we did.

            By the way, full disclosure: The other carpet company rep visited my condo a couple of weeks later and showed me samples. He also came in at a better price. I showed the proposed price to Pete and asked him if he could match it. He said he couldn’t. Sorry, Pete. But I’ll always be grateful to you.