Growing up in Elizabethtown, my favorite baseball player was Duke Snider. He played for the Brooklyn Dodgers, and naturally they were my favorites, too. I’ve never forgiven them for moving to Los Angeles. There are some things time heals, but that betrayal is not one of them.

Heck, I was so into my favorite player that even in my neighborhood pickup basketball and football games I proclaimed that I was Snider. Others would be Doak Walker, Otto Graham or Frank Gifford, but I reasoned that as good as Snider was at baseball, he had to be just as good at other sports.

My Snider baseball card was the pride of my collection. I had Mickey Mantle, Ted Williams and Stan Musial cards, but it was Snider’s that became my standard bearer. His profile on the back of the card stated that in the offseason he was an avocado farmer in California. I had no idea what an avocado was back then, but I knew I wanted to be that kind of farmer someday.

Growing up in the 1950s, baseball was the national pastime. It seemed every boy played the game, and collecting baseball cards was part of it. We all had our heroes, and whenever one of our neighborhood games was over we would pedal our bikes to a little grocery called Model Market and spend a nickel for a pack of baseball cards and that gosh-awful bubble gum. Another nickel was spent on a Nehi grape drink. We’d then all sit out front on the porch and argue over which one of us got the best card that day.

I was a baseball card junkie back then. I kept my collection in a shoe box. But when I traveled to someone’s house to trade, I’d carry them in an old Roi-Tan cigar box my uncle had given me. Looking back on it, I guess you could say it was sort of like my briefcase. Anyway, it would fit nicely between the crossbar in front of me.

Those were great memories. I just hope youngsters today are stockpiling some of their own for later.

Collecting baseball cards once seemed like a rite of passage for boys, but now that the Internet age has taken over, static photos of ballplayers with lifetime statistics on the reverse side no longer hold the interest. A couple of moves on a cellphone, and the same information appears.

A summer afternoon of video games takes precedence over a pickup game and emulating baseball heroes like I once did.

One of the big losers is the baseball card industry. If kids are no longer interested, what does the future hold?

Baseball Card Warehouse owner Larry Watt says his Lexington store has lost a lot of the kids to video games since he began about 30 years ago. “I’m selling more basketball, football and even hockey cards than I used to,” Watts said. “Some of the older guys a few years back got into the cards for a quick buck, but now they’re out and it seems the real collectors are back.”

At its peak, annual baseball card sales totaled $1.2 billion in 1991. Last year, the number was $200 million.

Steve Kessinger of Steve’s Sports Cards in Bowling Green saw the ups and downs of the business during the past 27 years. “Several years ago, there may have been 40 to 50 sports card shops in Kentucky,” he says. “But today I’d say that number might be down to 10 or 15.”

Kessinger said today’s youngsters seem to want a bit more action than just looking at a card. “They’ll look at a card and with a look that says ‘What does it do?’ “ he said.

Mt. Sterling Baseball Cards owner Dave Swartz knows one reason that business has dropped off. “The kids have been priced out,” he said. “The cheapest pack we have is $1.75. And when you consider that so many kids now play soccer it’s a little easier to understand. Soccer kids don’t buy baseball cards.”

Baseball cards in one form or another have been around since the 1880s. But when the so-called investors got involved, the industry lost touch with its roots. As more card manufacturers arrived, the business suddenly bypassed the kids and concentrated on adults and their expendable income. The market became saturated, dealers inflated prices and hardcore collectors began to hoard their perceived treasures.

Mark Kinman owns Planet Collectibles in Florence.

“Most of the baby boomers have fallen off. We sell some packs but also singles and vintage cards,” he said. “We see regular customers from out of town once a year when passing through.”

Chris Edmunds has owned Redmons Dugout in Glasgow since 1985. He sees most of his sales come from the non-locals.

“The people I deal with want new stuff,” Edmunds said. “A new hot player can create new customers. That’s what happened with (Stephen) Strasburg and (Bryce) Harper. The last few years they stirred some interest.”

Perhaps the most interesting baseball card marketing effort is that of Slugger Monkey inside Louisville Slugger Field, home to the Louisville Bats minor league team.

“Our customer is 4 to 104,” shop manager Matt Key said. “And we know we’ve got people interested in baseball when they come to the game.”

Mini-helmets and bobbleheads also sell big, but it’s the Slugger Monkey’s mobile store that sets it apart from other sports card shops. “We take it to Little League games and use it as sort of a fundraiser for them as they get a portion of the sales,” Key said.

Putting together a family trip around Kentucky to see the sites might be even a little more enjoyable if it could include a stop here and there at some of the sports card shops.

There’s no excuse. Get up, get out, and get going!

— Gary West’s column runs monthly in the Daily News. He can be reached by emailing west1488@twc.com.