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Thursday, May 29, 2008 - 21:28:17
I'll Trade you a Plastic Baggie Full of Captain Crunch for a Bo Jackson Future Star
Heartbreaking, and not only for the unrealized potential.
Remember those big plastic clear things that screwed together over your treasured Bash Brothers baseball card? Ah, lost innocence. I used to run a regular racket on my fellow middle schoolers--a Becket under my arm and a mouthful of stale bubble gum, flipping through my over-stuffed binder like a king--but I never managed to get that coveted Ken Griffey, Jr. Upper Deck rookie card. Little did we know then, gushing over the slick-looking upstart that made the '87 Topps woodgrain set look oh-so-quaint, that the birth of Upper Deck was the beginning of the end for baseball card collectors.
A young kid at Pecanland Mall down in Monroe, LA parlayed a dinky kiosk call Cards, Coins, & Collectibles into a real-deal walk-in storefront in little over a year, I slobbered over every new ultra-collectible, gold-trimmed, puffy card, and adults began slowly and methodically screwing everything up. (I recently saw a good friend--a brilliant, fifty-something professor of literature--try to unload five complete sets of '91 Upper Decks at a garage sale. He couldn't give those things away.) What has me on this jaunt down a memory lane littered with creased cardboard rectangles? Because I noticed an article the subject of which is so intuitive and resonant that I wrote this entry before even reading it. Now, let's see what Slate has to say.
UPDATE: This guy lost me right here:
Despite Griffey's illustrious career—some might call it disappointing relative to all the hype....
Sure, this is just a throwaway line, almost literally a parenthetical, but he's way off base. Ken Griffey, Jr.'s career is nothing less than a tragedy.
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A young kid at Pecanland Mall down in Monroe, LA parlayed a dinky kiosk call Cards, Coins, & Collectibles into a real-deal walk-in storefront in little over a year, I slobbered over every new ultra-collectible, gold-trimmed, puffy card, and adults began slowly and methodically screwing everything up. (I recently saw a good friend--a brilliant, fifty-something professor of literature--try to unload five complete sets of '91 Upper Decks at a garage sale. He couldn't give those things away.) What has me on this jaunt down a memory lane littered with creased cardboard rectangles? Because I noticed an article the subject of which is so intuitive and resonant that I wrote this entry before even reading it. Now, let's see what Slate has to say.
UPDATE: This guy lost me right here:
Despite Griffey's illustrious career—some might call it disappointing relative to all the hype....
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Root Hog or Die: A Razorback Mixtape
Wednesday, May 28, 2008 - 12:06:07
A Petty Concern
![[Daisy+Mae+Day+1.JPG]](http://bp2.blogger.com/_hjnmeXvlnf4/SAYX2gZkmDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZFYNsvI-_CE/S220/Daisy%2BMae%2BDay%2B1.JPG)
"I like every dog 'cept Smokey and Uga.
Those dudes can kiss my puppy ass."
People who know me know that I'm pretty effing lame over my new puppy, and my fiancée even moreso. Daisy Mae's gone from 7 lbs to 20 lbs in a little over 6 weeks, so we recently had to buy her a new collar. I chose a bright orange reflective one, as we'll be doing a lot of camping and I'm more than a little nostalgic for the hunter's orange collars that the dogs of my youth always wore.
Everything was peachy until she ran into a Tennessee fan. I dropped ten bucks on her new, SEC-neutral collar the same day. Why not a Razorbacks collar? Because those are for gamedays.
Speaking of Razorback apparel, thanks to the Fayetteville Flyer, I'm now the proud owner of this bitchin' timepiece:
Petrino Pledges His Love, Compares Hotlanta to "Misery"
"I'll be loving you forEVER / As long as you want me to be..."
If you're looking for reportorial acumen, right here's the last place you should be. Go over to Brandon Marcello's Slophouse blog instead. Marcello's a real deal journo and always has his nose to the ground. His most recent entry points to some good reading at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution about, what else, the Falcons and their own personal Judas, whom they caught up with while he was in Destin, FL for the annual SEC spring meetings. The article itself is rather cathartic, but Marcello isolates the pullquote moste relevant to hog fans:
“I feel like this needs to be my last job,” said Petrino, who took Louisville to a BCS bowl before leaving for the Falcons after the 2006 season. “Professionally, there’s no question that’s how it needs to be. And that’s also what I want.”
Tuesday, May 27, 2008 - 16:25:21
BOOM-SHOCKA-LOCKA
This is where Jay Bruce's photo would be if he
had played a single day in the major leagues.
I'm only posting this because that crazy old word went through my head. That word went through my head because some maroon just traded me Roy Halladay for Jay Bruce. If you don't play fantasy baseball, please ignore the following entry. If you do play, here's your extra dose of dork for the day.
Roy Halladay
81 IP. 3.11 ERA. 62 Ks. 10 BBs. 0.98 WHIP.
Jay Bruce
Um, nothing on record in the majors. He gets his first start tonight.
81 IP. 3.11 ERA. 62 Ks. 10 BBs. 0.98 WHIP.
Jay Bruce
Um, nothing on record in the majors. He gets his first start tonight.
Here's how this works:
- I snatch Jay Bruce off the free agents list as soon as I get word he's being called up, essentially for free (I have to drop Sidney Ponson to make space).
- One day later, somebody offers me ROY FREAKING HALLADAY for an unproven center fielder.
- I think to myself, "Boom-shocka-locka!"
Boom. Shocka. Locka.
Found by Accident
Monday, May 26, 2008 - 12:30:00
Tournament Bound
"I told you so."
Dave Van Horn and the Diamond Hogs are headed to Stanford with an at-large bid for the NCAA regionals. A little campaigning, a tough noncon schedule, and a high RPI go a long way. Nine teams from the SEC are tournament bound, more than from any other conference. Here's the NCAA announcement, and here's a short rundown from Arkansas Sports ˚360, which popped up in my mailbox only minutes ago.
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