Night Owl Cards

  I mentioned when I completed the 1988 Donruss set that it marked the first time I had completed four major sets from a given year.   I don't see that happening for me ever again. After the '80s, it's difficult for me to find multiple sets I was interested in enough to try to complete them. For example, I've completed 1993 Upper Deck, I wouldn't bother throwing money at any other '93 set outside of a token Topps complete-set buy. (I'd take a gift of a complete '93 Stadium Club or Pinnacle set but I'm not buying them).   So '88 is a milestone, a one-of-a-kind collecting feat. I like that it's '88. That's the year the Dodgers won the World Series; it's the year I graduated from college; it's the first full year of my wife and I going out. It's basically the last great year before adulthood stomped everything to hell.   To mark the feat, I thought I'd take 10 notable players from this time and compare their cards from th...

  I became aware of this card probably several months ago, filed it away as a future conquest, promptly forgot about it, then came across it again a couple of weeks ago.   It's now in my possession and it couldn't be more fantastic. I grew up with Luis Tiant as a key member of the Red Sox and then wrapping up his career with the Yankees and Angels (I was not old enough for the Indians and Twins version of Tiant). He is firmly entrenched with the AL East in my mind, one of my childhood favorites, and that's why it's so bizarre and so wonderful to see him in a Dodgers uniform.   Sure, El Tiante is part of a low-level team in the Dodgers' chain, but it doesn't make the card any less intriguing.   It's part of a litany of cards of players and other baseball figures in unfamiliar uniforms.   We've all seen the short-term stops cards for players, there's been plenty of blog posts about those. But what about coaches and managers? There's some weirdness ...

Tonight the "Long Gone Summer" documentary airs. Unlike the Jordan documentary, which didn't interest me, I do plan to check out ESPN's review of the 1998 Home Run Chase. I've never been a Mark McGwire or Sammy Sosa fan. That doesn't mean I don't like them or anything. I'm just indifferent. They played on teams I don't root for during an era in which I followed baseball only casually. I didn't collect cards. To demonstrate, the above two cards are the closest I can get to having a 1998 McGwire or Sosa card. That McGwire card is from 2000 and the Sosa card is from 2003. There is a seven-year gap, between 1996-2002, in which I own no Sosa cards. I did follow the home run chase. Who didn't? We posted home run update boxes in the newspaper every day and I was watching when the record fell and when McGwire hit 70. I'm aware of all the ugliness that followed and how the home run record doesn't mean much these days. But the detail...

It's nothing short of bizarre how ESPN has started dictating the prices that people can charge for commonly available cardboard. Recently, people flipped out over the ESPN "Last Dance" documentary, which mercifully just ended Sunday. I don't have any problem with Michael Jordan or the documentary, in fact I will always be on the MJ side of any Jordan-LeBron debate. But I have zero interest in the NBA and watching Last Dance referenced all over my timeline the last few weeks is not how I want to enjoy my quarantine time. That's my problem though. What sellers have been charging for Jordan rookie cards (and other Jordan cards, I guess, I have no idea what those are) since the documentary came out could be your problem. If you're not a regular follower of the card market, that is. In other words, if you're thinking now is a good time to buy a Michael Jordan rookie, maybe hold off on that urge a few months or so, or probably a little longer than tha...

(Greetings. I've returned from a few days away. During those days, I didn't buy one thing or view one scintilla of college football. But I know I'm still an American citizen because I ate like the world was ending tomorrow. Now that I'm back, it's time for Cardboard Appreciation. This is the 217th in a series): Autographs. I value them, yet I can't be bothered to acquire them. Does that make sense? It does to me. Let's see if I can explain. I do enjoy an autographed card. I like the idea that a major league player spent a couple of seconds to sign a baseball card that I own. I feel a connection to the player -- no matter how slight -- because he signed my card. But I view those cards almost as an "extra" in my collection. They aren't the reason why I collect. Autographed cards are almost like the gimmick in my collection. If I were to give someone a tour through my cards, I'd go through all of my sets and then all of my Dodgers a...

We're back to the present with "Match The Song Title," although some would say we're "back to the future" with this choice (and those more familiar with Daft Punk will say we're "back to the past"). I can't say I'm a follower of electronic music. I'm more of a rock n' roll guy, who gravitated toward new wave (which actually isn't that far from electronic music) and alternative in the '80s and is now back to reliving the rock of his younger days. In fact, I like just about all of the music of my younger days -- from easy listenin' '70s pop to 25-minute stadium rock anthems to "we got the funk" disco jive. I think some of the dance songs from that time are fantastic (don't you ever say a bad word about the long version of Taste Of Honey's "Boogie Oogie Oogie"). And that's why I've suddenly become a big fan of "Random Access Memories" by Daft Punk. There are m...