Night Owl Cards

There is a contest about who can act more presidential taking place on television tonight. In case you haven't noticed, I detest politics, and I detest even more people getting animated about politics. So I'm steering very clear of anything that has to do with the words "debate," "moderator," or "let me finish." But I know how some people must have things to discuss and questions to answer, so I'll throw this out to you: I received this Starting Lineup card of Fernando Valenzuela from Classon Ave. a little while ago. It was part of a package of Dodgers and oddballs, which are really the best kind of packages -- there's no debate about that. Now, the whole Starting Lineup craze did not land in my wheelhouse. When kids were playing with their little SLU figurines, I was figuring out how anyone expected me to attend my 9 a.m. law of mass communication class if the bar was open until 4 a.m. Near as I know, there were little plastic ...

(We're cruising into the final days of Cardboard Appreciation Week. Elated? Disappointed? Gassy? Well, I can't help you. All I can say is welcome to Cardboard Appreciation. This is the 152nd in a series): Today marks the 22nd anniversary since I covered my first major league baseball game. Twenty-two years. That's crazy. Twenty-two years ago should be about 1968, not 1990. But that's what the calendar insists. And that's how long I've felt guilty about not giving Spike Owen his due. Owen was your typical eighth-place-hitting shortstop. He was a switch-hitter, but mediocre at the plate, with periodic bursts of outstanding. He was a good fielder. Someone you knew was destined to become a coach or a manager. And that's what he is today. But on July 7, 1990, he was batting eighth in the lineup for the Montreal Expos at Olympic Stadium. His team was facing Jim Deshaies of the Houston Astros. Deshaies was the reason I was in Montreal. When my boss told ...