Night Owl Cards

  I've cleared my schedule and I've got snacks but I'm not expecting much from tonight's All-Star Game.   It's been exactly 50 years for me of watching the All-Star Game. For decades, my expectations were high. It was a highlight of the summer for me. And even when I got older and not as attached to the players, and MLB started tinkering with the format, I'd still remain enthusiastic and look on the bright side because of tradition and all of the games I enjoyed in the past. And it was still stars and baseball.   But I'm just not feeling it anymore. Last year's game was it for me. I tried to stay quiet but people close to me know I hated the in-game interviews -- especially multiple interviews going on at the same time -- and I really disliked the HR derby to decide the winner.   I know I'm shouting into the void. It's clear that many enjoy the changes. But I look at it as the usual failing of successful businesses, from Topps to MLB. Bigger and ...

I haven't reached my senior years yet, but good, gosh, sometimes -- actually every day now -- it sure feels like it. The limbs don't work the way they once did and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep is the stuff of legend, to borrow from Vida's jersey. I have a more difficult time relating to people, probably because I'm one of the few left on this earth who doesn't think rap music and tattoos are as melodic and beautiful as Mozart and roses. I miss the 1970s and 1980s and even a bit of the early '90s. I miss regarding 20 home runs in a season as an achievement. I miss girl groups. I miss wax packs at drug stores. I miss a whole lot actually, but if I go on any longer, someone will think I really am a senior. No, the farthest back that I go is the mid-1970s. The first player that I remember seeing on TV is either Johnny Bench or Thurman Munson. The first player I remember seeing on a baseball card is Tommy John. He goes back to the '60s, but when ...

(It's the end of February, meaning I'm as exhausted as all get-out, the perfect state of mind heading into the busiest month of the year. Yay! Time for Cardboard appreciation. This is the 268th in a series): Take a look at this card and what do you see? At face value, it is a "play-at-the-plate" card. In simpler times, I'd try to determine when this play happened and the outcome of the play. But let's go deeper. What else do you see on this card? Yes, it's a card of two future major league managers. Two future, current major league managers. A.J. Hinch of the Astros and Mike Matheny of the Cardinals. I'm sure two future managers have appeared on the same card before. But I don't know how many of them were involved in a play at the plate. To make this card more personal, though, it happens to be a card of two future managers who are younger than me. Ah, now you've reached the point. I don't like A.J. Hinch very much. It...

Every few months or so a new list of "Things We Don't Do Anymore" pops up on the internet, and we are suckered into reading about how old we're getting. Yep, I'm old enough to remember when phone booths were as much a part of the landscape as trees. I  remember those evil pay phones that I can't believe give some people the nostalgies. There were more than a few times when I wanted to beat those phones senseless with their own receiver. Thanks to technology we don't memorize phone numbers or hand-write letters or use an alarm clock. And if you still do, look, here's this new article that says: "you're oooooooooooold!!!!" I don't need to read any more of those articles. But what about just one more, geared toward our hobby? Here are a few things -- just a few because I've got to send out some card packages someday -- we don't do anymore in this hobby. If you're lucky enough (or unlucky enough) maybe you never did...

I really try not to be one of those people who has difficulty adjusting to the changes that are inevitable with advancing age. As someone who was born in the '60s, grew up in the '70s, went to college in the '80s, and started a family in the '90s, I've seen the world shift a time or two. Sometimes I hop on board and travel along. But there are other times when it is very obvious that I'm too stuck in the past and things happen by which I simply cannot abide. For instance, a couple of weeks ago, the Tampa Bay Rays and Oakland A's completed a trade that sent Ben Zobrist and Yunel Escobar to Oakland. The Rays received John Jaso and a couple of prospects. One of those prospects is named Boog Powell. Yes, Boog Powell. If this doesn't strike you as everything that's wrong with the world today then you're too young to read this post. I don't follow minor league baseball very closely or I probably would have come across this particular f...

A week or so ago I realized that it has been 40 years since the release of the 1975 Topps set. Forty years since I first collected a baseball card set. Forty years since I kept those cards and didn't throw them away at season's end. Forty years of the greatest set ever created during a young boy's first year of buying packs. I've started to see a little bit of mention of this particular anniversary here and there. One of those online baseball writers with a lot of followers showcased an image of a 1975 Topps rack pack (with George Brett as one of the players because, of course, the only two people in the '75 Topps set were Brett and Yount) and said "remember these?" like we were supposed tax our brains straining to retrieve lost images of these colorful cardboard squares from back during our -- heh, we were so childish then -- kid days. OF COURSE I REMEMBER THEM YOU TWIT! NOT A DAY GOES BY THAT I DON'T THINK OF THEM! Sorry, it's just that ...