Night Owl Cards

Well, except poor Enzo here. Yes, sadly, he has definitely passed. Anyway, people love to declare things dead. I don't know why, but it's definitely a thing. Yesterday, all over Twitter folks were declaring (screaming, basically) that the 2020 MLB season was dead. Baseball players themselves were saying it was dead. It's not dead. OK, it's not doing well. People are coming into its room to take its temperature at all hours of the day and night. The coroner is on speed dial. But it's not dead. Stop saying that it's dead. This isn't a contest. When and if it's actually dead everyone will know. (And really, in a year like this, would the lack of a baseball season be all that horrible?) What is more likely dead is labor peace in baseball. Yup, that's dead. Enjoy whatever 40 games you get to see this year, because who knows when there will be more. Blogging is another thing that people love to declare dead. I've been hearing that pa...

When you were a kid, what was the oldest baseball card that you had ever seen? Not the oldest that you ever spotted in a book or a magazine, but the oldest you had held in your hands, whether it was card you owned or not? For me, it was a 1971 Topps Manny Mota. Not the one pictured here. This is a lovely updated model. The one that I saw was literally lying in the gutter. I was walking home from school one day and I saw it crumpled along the road side, trembling, injured badly. I picked it up gently. It was in terrible shape. Creases and folds everywhere. Parts torn off of it. I took it home, and bandaged it in Scotch tape, but I could do nothing for the gaping hole in Mota's midsection. So I just slapped some more tape on it and hoped for the best. That Mota card survived, and it lasted a long time in its shoebox home before I bought this new one. Back then, to me, the 1971 Topps set was the most ancient set I ever knew. It was so OLD. Only my friends' older (and meaner) brot...