Kollector’s Korner Met-o-ra-bil-ia Hall of Fame Inductee # 4: The Cardboard King: How a Young Baron Earned His Hall Spot

Welcome back to Kollector’s Korner: Met-o-ra-bil-ia Hall of Fame! If you’ve been saving our first three installments in plastic sleeves and alphabetizing them by subject, congratulations—you’re one of us.

This month, we’re flipping the script. Because while many collectors build their treasure troves over decades, there’s something uniquely powerful about a young fan who dives in headfirst—heart, soul, and allowance money. Mets collectors come in all ages, and passion isn't exclusive to those who remember Tug McGraw's screwball or Doc Gooden’s heater. Sometimes, the loudest “Let’s Go Mets!” comes from the newest voices in the crowd.

That’s why we’re thrilled to welcome the youngest ever inductee to our Hall of Fame: a fan whose enthusiasm rivals that of any lifelong orange-and-blue loyalist. His knowledge is encyclopedic, his collection is ever-expanding, and his energy? Off the charts.

So, let’s meet our latest inductee: Dylan Baron.

In the world of Mets memorabilia collecting, some fans take decades to build their shrine. Others waste no time. Dylan Baron is the latter—a teenage collector with the heart of a diehard, the hustle of a clubhouse attendant, and a baseball IQ that could make Howie Rose tip his cap.

When he’s not tracking down signatures or grading cards, Dylan is playing the game he loves—on four teams, no less: the Commack Varsity Cougars, Commack Tsunami, Long Island Baseball, and the Sid-Jacobson Hammer, where I’ve had the privilege of coaching him for the past three years. And that’s not even counting the fantasy team in his head, probably anchored by a holographic Mark Vientos card.

“My dad was a Mets fan, and when I started playing baseball, it all clicked,” Dylan says. “He took me to my first game in 2015, and from then on, I was hooked.”

His collection began, fittingly, with a gift: a signed Yoenis Céspedes card from his grandfather. “He was my favorite player at the time,” Dylan says. “That card kicked it all off.” From that modest beginning grew a collection that now features over 50 signed cards and more than 15 signed baseballs—many of them earned the old-fashioned way: face to face at spring training.

I’ve seen firsthand the work Dylan puts in down in Port St. Lucie, where he’s spent each of the last two spring trainings while I’ve been covering camp. Whether he’s waiting patiently by the back fields or darting between players with binder in hand, his focus, determination—and pure joy when he gets a card signed—are unmistakable.

“That’s probably the part that surprises people the most,” Dylan says. “Meeting the players, talking to them—it adds a whole other level. You get to see the personality behind the stats.”

And Dylan doesn’t go it alone. What started as a personal passion quickly evolved into a full-on family hobby. His parents and relatives help him get to events, meet players, and chase down grails. “It brings us together,” he says. “It’s a bonding thing now.”

He blends baseball with everything—school, family, gym time, even music. But make no mistake: he’s all-in on collecting. His favorite item? A 1/1 Starling Marte Superfractor card that he bought, got signed in person, and then sent off to PSA for grading. “That was a big goal for me—to own a 1/1,” he says. “Getting it signed and graded? That was the cherry on top.”

His most prized collecting story ? That one goes to his Juan Soto signed card. “My friend Anthony, a Yankees fan, had the card. But when Soto signed with the Mets, he got so mad he threw it. The casing broke, but the card was still perfect. I bought it off him right there. The timing was just amazing.”

And then there are the manager-signed lineup cards—yes, actual lineup cards—that Dylan scores from umpires after games. “They’re super unique,” he says. “No one really thinks of them as memorabilia, but they’re a piece of history.”

He’s also had some standout moments with players—like when he met Brett Baty three times in 24 hours during spring training (once while Baty was carrying groceries), or when Brandon Nimmo signed his first MLB ball and hit two homers that same night. Dylan still lights up telling those stories.

But for Dylan, the true value of his collection isn’t in dollars—though his Vientos and Tarik Skubal rookie autos are looking real nice right now. It’s in the emotional connections, the memories, and the stories behind each item.

“I want a signed card from the whole starting lineup when the Mets win the World Series—hopefully this year,” he says, half-joking, but mostly dead serious. “Every card means something. I usually go after players I like, whether they’re heating up or just someone I respect.”

Among those he respects the most: Javier Báez and Brandon Nimmo. “Javy was my hero when I broke my collarbone. Watching him helped me push through rehab,” Dylan says. “And Nimmo—he’s the nicest guy. He signs for everyone. He cares.”

If he had to sum himself up in three words ? Resilient. Passionate. Baseball. “There is no Dylan without baseball,” he says.

And when it comes to advice for new collectors? “Cherish what you have,” Dylan says. “Don’t think about the money first. Think about the story. That’s what makes it worth it.”

That mindset has made Dylan one of the most genuine, grounded young collectors in the game—and a perfect fit for the Kollector’s Korner Hall of Fame.

Oh, and did we mention his cardboard cutout at Citi Field in 2020 got drilled by a Ronald Acuña Jr. home run?

Of course it did. Because some collections, and some stories, are just destined for greatness.

Dylan Baron may be our youngest Hall of Fame inductee, but he’s living proof that passion has no age limit. His drive, his stories, and his connection to the Mets are as deep as any lifelong fan’s—and in some cases, even deeper. For those of us who’ve been collecting since before Shea had seats with backs, Dylan gives us something better than nostalgia: he gives us hope. Hope that the love for the orange and blue, the thrill of the hunt, and the joy of the story behind each signature will live on for another generation. The torch has officially been passed—just make sure you don’t bend the corners.