PHILADELPHIA — Fred Nori opened packs of baseball cards in the 1950s at his father’s small corner store in Ohio, hoping to find a Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays inside. If so, Nori and a buddy would remove the stars, replace them with lesser cards, and reseal the pack before placing it back on the store’s shelf.

It was a perfect operation until a customer complained to Nori’s father: The pack of baseball cards he bought at the Middletown, Ohio, store was missing bubble gum.

“My dad’s buddy was chewing the damn gum,” said Fred Nori’s son, Micah. “So they got caught.”

Just as baseball runs in the Nori family — Fred reached Triple-A and was a longtime college coach, Micah played at Indiana University, and Micah’s son Dante is a Phillies prospect — so does card collecting. Fred stashed Mantles until he got caught, Micah chased Don Mattingly, Eric Davis and Ken Griffey Jr. cards, and now Dante is on a mission to collect each of his own rookie cards.

Dante Nori started collecting his rookie cards — there’s more than 20 variations — after the Phillies drafted the outfielder in last summer’s first round. Nori rips open packs, searches eBay, goes to card shows, and connects with collectors who may have found his cards.

He’s persistent about his quest and he needs just three more cards to complete the set.

The 20-year-old Nori is in low-A Clearwater and has yet to play 50 minor league games. But he could one day reach the majors. On his climb there, he’s collecting himself.

“You open cards as a kid and see all these athletes,” Nori said. “Now, all of a sudden you’re in a pack. It’s a strange feeling but also really cool. It’s kind of surreal.”

A childhood hobby

Nori was in line last month at Target when the cashier asked him if he saw the sign.

“I got yelled at,” Nori said.

He picked up two boxes of new baseball cards since there was a chance he was inside. The cashier told him the sign said customers could only buy one. Nori thought that applied just to Pokémon cards. Put one back, she said. Even the guys on the baseball cards have to follow the rules.

“It didn’t really matter to her,” Nori said.

Nori and his friends used to call stores when they were kids to see if they had the newest cards. A 99-cent pack of cards was his prize every time he went shopping with his dad, who taught him how to hold a card without bending it.

Nori found Mike Trout rookie cards and collected every Joey Votto card he could. Nori, like his dad and grandfather, fell in love with the thrill of opening a new pack.

“You never know what you’re going to get,” Nori said. “That’s why it’s so addicting. I love opening cards. ‘It could be this inside. It could be that inside.’ You never know.”

Each player had just one rookie card when Fred was snooping through packs at his dad’s store. The industry grew by the 1980s and ballplayers each had a few cards when Micah and his brother Brady were dreaming of finding a 1984 Topps Mattingly rookie. And now players like Nori have more than 10 rookie cards before playing a full minor league season. The business has changed.

Nori’s rookies are all variations of his 2024 Bowman card, which calls Nori an “on-base machine” on the back. The variations — which include cards in a gold hue, autographed cards, and one that is the actual printing plate used to produce cards — are serial numbered and Nori wants to find one of each. The chase is a challenge as two of his remaining cards are one-of-a-kind variations.

Nori found one of his rare cards after someone opened it during an online stream. Nori reached out and made a quick deal. He’s sent people batting gloves and autographs in exchange for his cards. One collector asked if his son could meet Nori before a game. Nori’s father found a few on eBay that he grabbed.

“When I paid, I used my real name and address,” said Micah, 50, an assistant coach for the Minnesota Timberwolves. “The guy was like ‘Wait, are you related?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I’m his dad.’ It’s a cool little community. Because the people would be like, ‘Oh my gosh. I have a couple more right here. I’ll send them to you.’”

A surreal feeling

Micah told his son that his pursuit could be easier if he just bought the cards he was looking for instead of opening up packs and joining online “box breaks.” But then the dad remembered being a kid in the 1980s and knowing that chasing is often the best part.

“You would open them slow and you’re sliding them through and then all of a sudden ‘It’s a Yankee,’ ” Micah said. “Then, ‘Oh my gosh. He’s holding a bat.’ So you know it’s a hitter. That was always fun. Once you get finished with the box or open up the pack, it’s like, ‘Oh crap.’ You’re done.”

Nori keeps his own cards and gives his teammates the ones he finds of them. He hopes to complete his set this summer and have the cards framed when he returns home in the offseason.

He’s asked for help on social media if any collector finds the three cards he still needs. The baseball card community is on the lookout. Until then, Nori will keep chasing.

“All of these guys were normal kids at some point,” Micah said. “Any young baseball player’s dream is to play in the big leagues, opening up a pack and seeing yourself on a card, or playing as yourself in a video game.”

Nori spent parts of two days last offseason autographing cards that would be inserted into Bowman packs. The authenticator came to his house and laid the cards out on a table for Nori to sign. He became the baseball card he used to chase.

“I just stared at it for five minutes,” Nori said. “Like, ‘Wow, I have my own card now.’ ”

Before leaving for spring training, Nori purchased a few boxes of cards to open when his grandparents visited. Fred, the guy who used to sneak Mantle cards from his dad’s grocery store, was ripping open packs in search of his grandson.

“It’s surreal,” Micah said. “It’s one of the coolest experiences you can have. Like any parent, your dream is to have your kid drafted and when he got his name called on draft day it was the coolest moment. But when you open a pack of cards and see your son there, knowing all the work and time and effort but not just him but his mom did — I’m coaching basketball seven months a year and she’s pretty much a single parent — and all that emotion rushes to you. I don’t think it ever gets old.

“Then to watch my dad, who’s 83 years old, and my mom, who’s 80, opening packs of cards and seeing their grandson, it’s a pretty cool experience.”

The Mantle rookie cards that Fred Nori pulled have sold for as much as $12.6 million. Micah’s brother will often say he could have been retired already if his dad’s operation didn’t get foiled by missing bubble gum. Now Fred is back on the chase. There’s just no gum in the packs.

“My dad is like, ‘I hope to hell you do something because this might be worth something someday,’ ” Micah said.

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