When we’re not wringing our hands over what the children must think, we the sports media have ourselves all in a froth over how the Congressional hearings on steroids in baseball has hurt or enhanced the legacies of the players involved.

Nuts to that. I want to know what it’s going to do to my legacy to my child – his college fund, aka my baseball card collection.

There was a time when my collection, amassed in the 1970s and 1980s, could have paid one year of my boy’s tuition to our state’s fine university. Now, I doubt it will cover the mark-up on the used books he purchases for his first semester.

The last, best hope for that collection went up in smoke Thursday with Mark McGwire’s reputation.

You see, I have a McGwire rookie card, make that the McGwire rookie card, a mint condition 1985 Topps with McGwire featured as a member of the 1984 U.S. Olympic team. Back in 1998, I talked to some local memorabilia experts about the value of that card for a Sun Journal story I did shortly after he broke Roger Maris’ record with his 62nd home run.

Before the 1998 season, the card’s listed value was $50, but, once McGwire became the home run king, one dealer told me I might be able to fetch as much as $300 for it.

This was the pinnacle of my card collecting life. I had procured the card in 1987 from a Casco card shop that had mistakenly put it in a binder with a bunch of other worthless cards and marked it at 50 cents. At the time I bought it, during McGwire’s breakout rookie year, it was worth 10 times that. The guy who owned the shop realized the mistake when I brought the card to the counter with a big grin on my face. Of course, he had to charge me the listed price, and as I walked out the door he grumbled “You got yourself a bargain, kid.”

Tempting as it was, I refrained from re-selling the card in 1998, figuring its value would continue to increase. Needless to say, I was rooting against Barry Bonds when he broke McGwire’s record in 2001, solely for financial purposes. I was able to console myself with the fact that, though he was no longer the king of swing, McGwire was still a sure-fire first ballot Hall of Famer and would go down as one of the great home run hitters of all time. He was still going to line my wallet or my son’s wallet one day.

Now, he might as well be a $2 bill. I’ve checked some websites that have the card listed at $50, but who knows how up to date those quotes are? As the fallout from the hearings continues, the card’s value will continue to dwindle and the GI Bill will look more and more attractive as a vital part of my son’s future. How do redheads look in khaki?

I should have seen this coming, really. An investment expert would get a good laugh flipping through the pages of my card book, which I really haven’t bothered to update since the late 1980s.

For every Cal Ripken rookie card, there are about 20 Brad Komminsks. For every Roger Clemens, there are a couple dozen Dwight Goodens.

Back in the day, my buddies and I used to get together during school vacation and swap cards. There was no hotter card at that time than a Dwight Gooden rookie card. I remember patting myself on the back a few times thinking I’d swindled one of my pals by trading some crummy old Lou Brock card for one of those Gooden rookies. Many was the day when I’d open up the book to the page I had devoted solely to Gooden rookies and dream about what I’d buy after I’d cashed them in.

Well, we all know what happened to Dwight. The fame went to his head, his salary went up his nose and his career went in the toilet. Last I heard, he’d been arrested for the umpteenth time for punching his girlfriend in the face. And, get this, he’s still employed as a special assistant by the Yankees. Go figure.

Someday, I’m going to have to go through my card book with my son and explain why most of them aren’t worth the cardboard they’re printed on anymore. We’re going to have to have a serious discussion about how and why the heroes of my youth and his cheated their way to fame and fortune and eventually became the object of shame and scorn for using the needle, the cream and the clear to obtain it.

Heck, that will be the easy part. The hard part will come when I have to explain to him how and why mommy and I are sending him to community college.

Randy Whitehouse is a staff writer. He may be reached by email at [email protected]