You Can't Get Rid of Me That Easy.

       It seems for most people 2016 has been a rough year. As usual, I was ahead of the curve and my nightmares started in 2015.  I was in a car accident on Super Bowl Sunday that left me shaken but unscathed but that was to be the least of my issues.  I posted on and off all through 2015 right up until what would seem a very exciting time for me, the Mets going deep into the playoffs.  I posted on the day of that first postseason game in nine years, and then aside from an auto-post on Christmas and a couple of Hall of Fame induction posts that I already pretty much had written out, nothing.  This blog has been silent. Why, you ask?  It is on that aforementioned October night that our story begins...

These are the Mets holiday parallel cards from that big box store I don't shop in.

I will not bore you too much with the details of this story as I have told it a few too many times and I have grown weary of it.  Plus it is kind of horrifying and gross but I will hit the important parts, though. I watched that first playoff game with a great deal of anticipation, obviously.  I sat in my big comfy chair and did not get out of it the whole night.  The Mets won a tight and tidy 3-1 victory and as the final out was made, I got up to do the business we all have to do.  That is when things turn ugly.  The last thing I remember was fainting on the toilet. I hit my head and passed out.  I woke up in a pool of blood, feces, and throw up and I could barely move.  This was not a pretty picture and I was in trouble.  911 was called and an ambulance came and some very well trained EMTs scooped me up and took me to the hospital.  I was cleaned up and put on fluids as they tried to figure out what was going on with me.  I was there one day, then two, and so on.  No food could go in me, nothing but blood and pain was coming out of me.  Two of the finest doctors on the eastern seaboard were looking over me and on day three, I asked them point blank what was wrong with me.  They looked at each other and shrugged - they actually shrugged.  I was in real trouble.  Test after test was done to me, pint after pint of blood was going into me.  I didn't eat anything solid for nine days.  As a last resort, they gave me a little camera pill, like something out of the Jetsons, to go through my gastrointestinal tract and if that didn't find anything, they were going to have to cut me open.  I swear this is the short version of this story and to tighten it up even further, yes, they found out what was wrong with me without having to cut me open.  I had a hidden hole in a hard to reach part of my intestines (the jejunum for those who like hard to pronounce medical words).  Rest and no food eventually healed it up.  I was in the hospital for a couple weeks.  I was an absolute wreck physically and emotionally for months.  The physical part eventually healed and my strength and stamina returned.  My emotional state, usually pretty precarious to begin with, was not so easily dealt with. 

Since all I have done is vent in this post, let me say a belated Happy Holidays and to everyone reading.

Near death experiences are supposed to energize you, instead with old contrarian me, it has put me in a deep funk.  Every time I think it is getting better, I realize it isn't.  Old things that used to make me happy simply don't.  New things bore me.  I have never been so down or inconsolable and that is saying something.  Every day is a struggle and every moment I am left alone with my thoughts makes me more depressed. I have tried everything I could think of to help myself to very little success.  I wish I could tell you I have figured it all out but I haven't.  Right now emotional survival is the key.  I haven't much wanted to blog because I really haven't been collecting much and what I have hasn't brought me much joy.  I am a red hot mess.

They didn't scan too well, but these are the shiny metallic foil ones.

Not to sound like some kind of inspirational trinket bought at the mall, but happiness is a choice.  It has been about 14 months that I have been Greco-Roman Wrestling these demons on a daily, practically hourly basis, and this New Year's seems like as good a day to just turn my back on them.  Oh, I am going to be very aware of my mental health but I am going to make a concerted effort to streamline this process that has just been exhausting.  I am not sure if it will work or not, but one thing I do desperately miss is the happiness that card collecting brought me and the fun and feedback I got from writing my blog.  So that is what I am going to do.  I am going to drag myself kicking and screaming back to my old self.  I have tried every other damn thing and maybe now is the time for the the direct approach, which I know seems obvious to some but for me it is novel because my head is a wacky place and I tend to outsmart myself when I keep things simple.  At this point it seems I have nothing left to lose.  I have been slowly reacclimating myself to old friends and my family and while it hasn't snapped me out of things quite yet, it wasn't nearly as hard as my brain has been making it out to be.  So this week, I am going to start this blog up again and I trust that the 12 of you who used to read it will do so again.  Wish me luck.  And a very Happy New Year to you all.

A Little Food For Thought On A Monday Morning...

In 2001, Barry Bonds, a player in his late 30's who had come back from many injuries, including a career threatening one, broke one of his sport's most hallowed records.

Bonds was vilified; his motives questioned, his work ethic dismissed, rumors and hearsay reported as fact.  His word was not taken.  The media made up its mind and demanded asterisks, or worse, just decided the record didn't count. 

In 2014, Peyton Manning, a player in his late 30's who had come back from many injuries, including a career threatening one, broke one of his sport's most hallowed records.

Manning was celebrated;  his motives commended, his work ethic lauded, any questions about him was dismissed as sour grapes and hate.  His word was taken as gospel.  The media made up its mind and decided that he was everything right with a sport where so much has gone wrong recently. 

***

Am I missing something?  This can't just be a black/white thing, can it?  Is it just the way PEDs are viewed in their respective sports?  I mean, Manning plays a game where HGH is ingested like so much candy, so are we to believe that he came back from an injury that would cripple most people through only a lot of hard work and a good diet?  And all any hack writer can ever talk and/or joke about is the size of Barry Bonds' head.  Have you fucking seen Peyton Manning's head?!?!?

The fucking thing doesn't even fit inside his helmet!

Look, I am no Barry Bonds apologist.  I am a baseball hipster, I hated Barry Bonds way way way before it was cool.   But why has no one even questioned Peyton about the comeback from his injury?  Why has no one pointed out that Manning is playing as well or better at age 38 than just about any other quarterback ever (and that after a catastrophic injury)?  Most QBs are absolutely finished by age 36-37 - Unitas, Montana, Marino, Fouts, the list goes on and on.  Yet Peyton keeps breaking records and playing better than he ever has and all the media can do is fall over themselves to fawn over his greatness.  If no one cares about PEDs in football, why are they the end of the fucking world in baseball?  I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

Football '14 Week 5: October (No) Surprise.

       I want to apologize to all five of you who look forward to my weekly football posts.  The awful things that have been swirling around the NFL this year combined with the beyond awful way the league has reacted to them has made my stomach turn and left me unable to enjoy football very much.  Now that the calender has turned to October, as usual, the NFL will start inundating us with their pink regalia.

I find it in poor taste that the league pays such lips service to something as important as breast cancer and then goes out of its way to profit off of it without actually giving much to charity.  This year they are "toning down" the pink to try to lay low until all the bad pub dies down and they can go back to being the money-making juggernaut they usually are.

Now, if the NFL had any gumption or dignity, after all the Ray Rice, Greg Hardy, Ray McDonald, Adrian Peterson (isn't it sad that I have to list so many and could keep going) stories, they would have switched off the pink this year and made it purple for domestic violence awareness, which also has its "month" in October... 

But sadly, there is no shady charity for the NFL to exploit and then profit from on colorized memorabilia, so that would never happen.

Archivist.

     I have been in the middle of some major spring cleaning here at Starting Nine World Headquarters.  Not just the collection, which is getting a sprucing, but the whole darn house.  Which means two things, I haven't had time to blog much and I have to go to the store to buy something new every other damn day to replace or improve what's there.  Yesterday found me at Target and wandering around Target means but one thing, walking by that card nook 5 or 6 times.  This, as always, is too much to take and I found a few jumbo packs of Archives in my basket at the end of the trip...

I opened this Friday night while watching yet another disappointing Mets loss so maybe my enthusiasm was low so I waited until this morning to write about the cards; I can't say my mood improved much. 

Let's start with something they did very right, the 1973 design:

This is one of my all time favorites and they nailed it.  They got the fonts right and the position logos are there in all their glory.  My only quibble?  The pictures are all tightly cropped the way they have been this year and maybe they would have gotten things perfect if they had chosen a few off beat, wide angle oddball shots like they did back in the day. 

They also did they 1980 design:

And again, the design and font looks wonderful, the only problem?  They just used the 1980 design in Archives two years ago.

Now we get to where things start to come apart:

Okay, disregarding that the 1989 set is hardly a classic, let's look at the major flaw that makes this a failure.  They got the design elements of the team name and the angle of the ribbon and even the curved corner correct but look closely at the player names.  Once again, right font (which is always appreciated and a surprise from Topps) but the alignment is all wrong.  They all seem to be justified to the left and this is not how the original set looked.  Yes, it's a small thing but to someone who opened a million packs of this stuff, it is huge.  Look at the Sonny Gray or Bob Gibson or even the Adam Eaton or Joe DiMaggio.  The names on the 1989 set were centered and it makes 90% of these cards look all cockeyed and wrong.  It wasn't that good looking a set to begin with, so to flub this detail and make it look worse is just inexcusable. Plus, haven't we seen that picture of Adrian Gonzalez some place before?  Somehow, the page I made for current players has three of these '89 cards on it.

Let's have a brief six card palate cleanser.  Back to the 1973 design, these six vintage players look like they could come straight from the original set, if it weren't for a few team issues and the "Topps" logo...and maybe the fact that Juan Gonzalez was 4 years old in 1973, but I digress.  Even with a Tom Seaver photo they have used 100 times before, these six cards show what is right and good about this set.

Oh but we are right back at it with those bottom three, they show what is so so wrong.  It's like Topps did 95% of their job on this set and just said "eh, fuck it" and didn't bother with the rest.  It is what I find so frustrating with Topps and their exclusive agreement with MLB; they have no motivation to give that last 5% - which is maybe the hardest five percent - the little things that are the difference between a disappointing set and a "wow! this is freaking awesome!" set.  So what is wrong with those three cards?  Well, the Yankees cards are blatant and obvious to anyone who collected back then.  The Yankees team name was white and not blue.  The Braves blue was much lighter on the originals as well.  These are the little things that are the difference and they would make me pull my hair out if, well, it wasn't mostly gone already.

What is the other great failing of the 1986 design?  It is the smallest defect but really the largest....

Those damn copyright/trademark logos after every team name!  The originals did not have these and in the long run, they are superfluous as most of us have railed against oh so many times before.  The backs of these cards get marred by three or four lines of copyright information and ownership rights and the like.  If all that information is there, why on earth do they feel it necessary to mess the front with this as well?!?!?!?  If you have it on the back, you don't need it on the front and vice versa.  It's like I'm taking crazy pills here...  I am way too worked up for a Saturday afternoon but it just looks awful here; little bleach spots that are pretty illegible but so terribly noticeable.  Between that and the color issues (the Brewers and White Sox are incorrect as well), it ruins all the things they did get right. 

I didn't pull any short prints in four jumbos but I did nab a couple of inserts.  Those 1980's style glossy all star ones were never much to get excited about 30 years ago and nothing has changed.  That deckle edge Derek Jeter is beautiful, I hate to admit. 

There are six more vintage player cards that, once again, look tremendous and proper to the era.  I made a veteran page that tries to highlight the best looking of these cards.  Want to know something as a fabulous aside?  My brother got me a yellow A's Reggie Jackson jersey for my birthday.  I should take a picture of me wearing it holding that card. **UPDATE** Turns out that Reggie is a short print because they made the short prints this year in the same designs as the base set.  We can also put that on the "fail" side of the ledger for this set.

Also in the "so close but so far away" column are the backs.  They did so many things right with the backs but then once again dropped the ball with the little details...

I will let it pass that they can't print complete batting records for the vintage players without the font being so tiny as to be illegible but it is still frustrating.  You can also see the aforementioned copyright information and, come to think of it in tiny illegible font, you can believe every single card has that on it.  Topps got the colors and the fonts all correct on the back and even decided to include cartoons where they were appropriate and even matched the style of each set.  Problem is, they only made about 10-12 cartoons for each 50 card subset so they repeat over and over again.  Are you telling me that in Topps vast archives, they couldn't come up with 40-50 separate cartoons?  Or if they wanted to use new ones, were they too cheap to commission that amount.  Once again, it is the little things that kill.

There's A Draft In Here.

       Tonight is the first night of the NFL Draft and let me tell you the best part about that: in four days, people will stop talking about the NFL Draft for about 11 months.  Yes, I realize I am part of the problem and not the solution by pointing that out but it does give me the opportunity to also point out that if as much time, effort, meticulous attention to detail, and just pure man hours were given to any number of this countries' problems as is given to the NFL Draft then every Late April/Early May we could solve a problem a year until there were no problems left.  Drugs, teen pregnancy, financial imbalance, racial injustice - all could be eradicated rather than speculating what kind of tools Johnny Manziel has. I am no social engineer, but I am willing to bet I am closer to correct than wrong with that particular hyperbolic speculation.

The NFL Draft boils down to a few simple things.  Your team will take some players and you have no idea how they will work out.  None.  And you probably won't have any idea for at least three years.   The first round will shake out as follows:  2 or 3 players will be superstar to hall of fame caliber studs, around 20 will have anywhere from serviceable to admirable careers, and about 10 of the players chosen will completely wash out.  That's about it.  The rest of it is all mindless nattering and endless conjecture.  The NFL draft make election coverage look subdued and innocent by comparison. 

Want to know why all the attention paid to the draft is useless?  Ryan Leaf.

Sure, there are hundreds of busts to choose from but Ryan Leaf encapsulates every possible bust story.  Leaf was a decent college quarterback in a second level conference (he is the second most famous person from Washington State).  But he looked like an NFL QB. The scouts fell in love with him.  He shot up draft charts.  He looks stupendous in workouts.  People actually once argued over whether he or Peyton Manning would be the better franchise quarterback.  There was no one who came out against him.  A tremendous wave of goodwill washed over Ryan Leaf.  No one doubted him, everyone loved him, he had the world at his feet.  And he booted it.  Badly.  He failed miserably as both a football player and as a human being.  I don't think I need to rehash his entire story here, but believe me, no one has ever crashed and burned so spectacularly.  You can see some busts coming a mile away and some sneak up on you.  Ryan Leaf somehow did both.

So while it was once an interesting little distraction during the spring after the furor of baseball returning died down, I now find the NFL draft a colossal waste of time to follow.  It gives people who have no accountability jobs and encourages the sports media to continue the misguided notion that speculating about the games is more fun than the actual games.

Who knows, your team might draft a game changer of this caliber...

It is that last part that has resulted in me - an absolute sports nutjob - from watching less and less ESPN as the years have gone by to the point where I hardly watch any of it at all, except when actual games are on.  I used to watch SportsCenter all morning when I was at home and now I watch MLB Network and their Quick Pitch show because they actually show highlights of the games.  What a concept.  On the days when I accidentally have it on the worldwide leader, I usually can't change the channel fast enough because all there ever is is people arguing, speculating, some kind of awful cross promotion to a movie, or some kind of tear-jerking human interest story.  Anyway, I have bitched enough.  Wake me up when the Mets actually score a run.

Football '13 Week 19: Divisional Playoffs.

       I'm sorry folks, I just can't.  I couldn't write anything yesterday and I am not really up to it again today.  I don't have a football rant in me, I don't have a hall of fame rant in me, hell, I don't even have it in me to mock A-Rod one more time.  The Saints loss on Saturday afternoon just took it all out of me.  I guess you wanna see some cards.  Here, this oddball page is all I got:

These make for lousy football cards but surprisingly good bookmarks.  I will regroup and try again tomorrow.  I hope you all understand.

Rant #2: Alumni.

       There is a block of Hall of Fame voters absolutely obsessed with keeping out the steroid users.  Some won't vote for any player from the "steroid era" period.  But what if a player who did steroids, a player we all know and love, is already in the hall of fame.  I am not talking about 19th century health tonic drinkers, I am talking about a player who exhibits every trait of the modern PED users we all have memorized and that the all knowing arbiters of integrity have deemed contemptible and universally rejectable forever in perpetuity. I am talking about Rickey Henderson.

Now, everything I am about to lay out is pure conjecture, but the baseball writers have no problem using that to make their decisions, so please bear with me.  Rickey came up as a 20 year old rookie and was immediately someone to watch.  In his first five years in Oakland, he lead the league in stolen bases, three times swiping 100 or more.  He was dynamic, dangerous, deadly.  By 1985, the Athletics were rebuilding and Rickey was going to command a lot of money as a free agent, so he got traded to the Yankees.  He then had two of his most brilliant years at age 26 and 27 (as one would expect).  Then something odd happened in 1987, Rickey got hurt.  He came up with this muscular fire plug of a body and suddenly, it betrayed him.  He hurt his hamstrings and missed 70 games and didn't lead the league in steals for the first time in almost a decade.  George Steinbrenner, not known for his compassion or patience, thought Rickey was dogging it.  The media decided to agree with him.  The New York press turned on Rickey and even though he came back to have another wonderful typically Rickey campaign in 1988, the damage was done.  He was a hot dog but worse, just a dog.  He started out slow and injured again in 1989 and the howling became deafening.  He eventually got traded back to the A's in mid-season where suddenly, he was rejuvenated.  He helped them win the World Series that year.  Then in 1990, he had an amazing MVP season where he outdid all his previous hitting and power numbers (by a good margin) and then settled into a comfortable second phase of his career where he basically did not age.  His age 32 season is hardly discernible from his age 39 season, where back with the A's (again) he once again lead the league in stolen bases.  At age 39. 

Funny, who was on that 1989 and 1990 Oakland team?  Why, it's the godfather of steroids, one Jose Canseco.  Who else?  Why, it is one of the all time scapegoats for PEDs, Mark McGwire.  How did a man who made is living with his legs and was starting to get injured and breakdown in his late 20's suddenly able to win an MVP at age 31, then continue having amazing seasons well into his 30's and play until he was 44?  Was 1990 a steroid fueled Fuck You season a la Roger Clemens in 1997 and 1998?  Did his body change?  Well, his thighs certainly look a lot thicker in 1997 (Padres) than they did in 1982 with the A's.  How many players lead the league in steals in his 19th season?  One, Rickey Henderson.  By the end of his career, Rickey Henderson broke major single season and career records by Hall of Famers Lou Brock, Ty Cobb, and none other than Babe Ruth.  Why weren't the writers protecting the legacies of these men?  How did all these red flags get by the writers? Why is Rickey Henderson in the Hall of Fame?

Now, I cannot prove any of these things about Rickey Henderson but all these things when presented this way surely make you think.  And I could write a similar breakdown of Hall of Famers like Nolan Ryan (pitched 'til he was 46? throwing 98? really?), Kirby Puckett (sudden illness that lead to retirement, could it have been steroids?), Paul Molitor (overcame a lot of injuries, didn't he?), and heck, why not Roberto Alomar (suddenly stopped playing well when they talked about testing for PEDs) or even Dave Winfield (he played football, right?).  It wouldn't make it true, but the damage would be done.  Funny how that works...

Rant #1: Craig Biggio.

       What the hell did Craig Biggio do to anyone?  Did he murder someone?  Did he kidnap the family of a baseball writer and then rape and torture them on a webcam for the world to see?  All Craig Biggio did for 20 years is show up at his job and do it at a level we should all aspire to.  He got on base more times than all of 17 players in the history of the game.  He scored more runs than everyone but 14 players.  He's 5th all time in doubles - do you know who else in in that top ten?  Tris Speaker, Pete Rose, Stan Musial, Ty Cobb, George Brett, Napoleon Lajoie, Carl Yastrzemski, Honus Wagner, and Hank Aaron.  Maybe doubles aren't as sexy and home runs, but that is one hell of a list to be on.  He played catcher, second base, and center field.  Do you know how many other players have ever been regulars at those three positions in their careers?  None.  That's right, he played three of the four "up the middle" positions for entire seasons at a time.  I could go on and on, but just look at his numbers yourself, go on, I'll wait. 

Do you know what list you will not find Craig Biggio on?  Any list that includes steroid users or rumored steroid users.  Now, I am not a Houston Astros fan so I didn't follow his career every day, but I followed baseball pretty damn close for his entire tenure in the majors and never once did I hear even whispers.  I have seen several versions of the infamous Mitchell Report - mostly conjecture and nothing based on actual fact (because no one has ever seen it outside of the MLB offices) - and he's never on it.  A lot of rumors surround longtime teammate Jeff Bagwell so I guess he is guilty because he sat in the same dugout and clubhouse?  Rumors suddenly are contagious?  Perhaps Craig Biggio injected Ken Caminiti with the PEDs that won him the 1996 MVP and eventually led to his death?  Does the BBWAA have these incriminating photos circulating amongst themselves and they refuse to share them with the laymen fan?  I am still trying to piece all this together because the facts by themselves make little to no sense whatsoever. 

My eyes were opened to Craig Biggio, like a lot of fans, after reading Bill James' New Historical Abstract in 2001.  In it, he listed Biggio as the 35th best player of all time.  OF ALL TIME.  Now, lord knows James has been guilty of some hyperbole in his time, but he often uses it to make a point.  If you have never read the passage, I suggest you do.  Once again, I'll wait.  Click here if you can't read that link.

So Craig Biggio, who is comparable to first ballot Hall of Famers Robin Yount, Joe Morgan, Paul Molitor, Cal Ripken, and Brooks Robinson (and shoe-in Derek Jeter), has to wait until next year, his third on the ballot, because of second hand hearsay and unelected baseball writers who have decided to be judge and jury to a situation that they admit to not understanding.  I want to know where the spike in Craig Biggio's stats are? Where is his 50 home run season?  Where is his 30 pound weight gain with backne?  And as usual, where is his failed drug test?  The player I would compare him to is Charlie Gehringer, who they incidentally called The Mechanical Man.  Craig Biggio has the indignity of being a wonderful baseball player who was amazingly consistent who happened to play at the same time when some players used steroids.  The baseball writers hate players who are "merely" consistent and obviously have shown their aversion to PEDs and somehow, poor Craig Biggio has fallen through these two nasty cracks at once.  I hope when he is finally elected next year, his acceptance speech is simply him reading the names of the writers who didn't vote for him the last two years and then a gypsy curse to befoul all their houses. 

Sanctimony.

       Attention baseball writers: eat a bag of dicks. You are not the story, you are not the arbiters of morality, and - let's be honest here - you are tilting the rules only so it suits you. If Ty Cobb, Mickey Mantle, Gaylord Perry, Whitey Ford, and Pud Galvin are all in the Hall of Fame, than all of this eras players can be too. (except for Rafael Palmerio, fuck that guy.)

I mean, hey, if Tom Yawkey and Kenesaw Mountain Landis are your moral pillars, I am shocked Hank Aaron and Willie Mays ever got in the Hall.

Basically, with members like Bill Conlin, the baseball writers have said that it is just fine to have sex with children but even the suspicion of steroids?  No way, Jose.

My real issue is the baseball writers applying arbitrary morality to the whole thing.   Racists and wife beaters and amphetamine users and on-the-field cheaters are fine, but if you used STEROIDS - oh noes! lordy lordy! What about the sanctity of the game? What about the children?  Give me a fucking break. 

/mini rant

Why is Mike Schmidt here?  Because he said in an interview that if they were around when he was a young player, he absolutely would have used steroids.  I think it is time for us all to be honest with ourselves about the steroid era. It was just that, an era.  Just like the dead ball era, the expansion era, or the pre integration era.  The baseball writers need to learn some of the history of baseball before they start applying their misguided criteria to the whole thing.

Check This Box.

       I subscribe to the same theory about politics as some do religion, and it goes something like this:

Religion is like a penis.
It's fine to have one.
It's fine to be proud of it.
But please don't whip it out in public and start waving it around.
And please don't try to shove it down my children's throats.

This time of year we all get sick of the politics, sick of the partisan fighting, sick of the attack ads, sick of the canned pandering, even sick of people being sick of politics.  It is just one of those things; it's why you don't talk about it in polite society.  And I completely understand those who hate the political process.  But it is quite easy to avoid it.  You don't have to watch the debate.  You can change the channel if commercials come on.  You can change the subject if someone starts a conversation about it.  Most of us know how we feel without the constant bombardment.  And I respect all that.  But there is one thing you must do and that is be part of the process one way or another.  That means you should get out and vote - or even don't vote - and do so for a reason.  A lot of folks with say "you have to vote!" but I disagree.  If your reason not to vote is grounded in logic (ie, I hate these candidates) and not ignorance, I am with you.  We all wish the election cycle would shorten and the rhetoric would improve.  We all would like the candidates to not start at the extremes and work towards the middle. In the end, we all get the candidates we deserve.  This is part of the process.  And a messy process it is.  I vote in every election I can - primaries, school board, dog catcher, whatever.  But to each their own. 

OK, that rambling rant is now over - for now.  What I am gonna do here is pull out my presidential themed cards.  First is not only my favorite page of political cards, but one of my favorite pages in my entire collection:

This is from the 1956 Topps Presidents set.  Since these cards are well loved, I picked them up for a song a long time ago. These cards are fantastic.  Those beards are fantastic.  Why don't more candidates wear awesome hipster style facial hair?  I would totally vote for the first one who has a handlebar mustache and a sweet set of mutton chops.  My hat is now in the political ring.

We now jump ahead five decades to some more recent offerings:

Much like most people seemed to warm up to Jimmy Carter years after he left office, I have grown fond of George Bush senior in recent years.  He was a pretty interesting dude, I just don't think he ever should have been president (and the less said about his kid, the better).  The ones on the bottom there are from the last presidential cycle. 

Here is more of a mishmash of political cards:

These also have more of a sports theme.  Those cards of the presidents throwing out the first pitch are from the 1994 Baseball set from the Ken Burns Baseball documentary.  I have this whole set in piecemeal form, it was just broken up and I have been too lazy to put it back together again (cue Humpty Dumpty reference).  On this page you also will see more than a few JFK cards.  This will at least begin to tell you where my political leanings go. 


In 2007 and 2008, Topps was obsessed with these political cards, I assembled a little frankenpage of them here:

You have presidents and signers of both the Declaration of Independence and Constitution on this page.  You also have Bill Clinton yet again throwing out the first pitch in a Cleveland Indians jacket.  Is that the only team he threw out the first pitch for? Here is a good piece of trivia, William Howard Taft was the first president to throw out the first pitch at a major league game.  And John Hancock is on here twice, because he should be.  Most people know about his huge signature, and those people usually even know why.  But if you don't know how badass John Hancock was overall, go look him up, don't worry, I'll wait. 

OK, so I have kept things pretty straight and narrow, but here, I am gonna get back up on my soapbox and shove it down your throats a little:

I am unabashedly and unapologetically liberal.  Socially, economically, and morally, all of my leanings go very left.  I got up and out of the house this morning at 8:30 to vote and I voted for Barack Obama.  Has he been perfect?  No.  Does he deserve four more years?  Yes.  He has stuck by his guns and stayed true to most of his promises.  I would like to see him finish the job.  I lived in Massachusetts for 12 years.  I saw Mitt Romney at the embryonic stage of his political career when he ran against Ted Kennedy.  Back then he ran as a pro-choice, pro-gun control, pro-health care candidate.  He did the same when he ran for governor years later (and won).  Now, on the national stage, he has switched (or as the GOP loves to say, flip flopped) to reflect the more radical edges of his party.  No one really knows who Mitt Romney is.  Well, except for all that pro-business corporate pirating he does...on that, he has never wavered.  The republicans have nominated the very kind of candidate they used to eviscerate.  For this reason alone, I could never vote for them or him.  Back in the 1960's, the democrats were highjacked by the very liberal factions of the anti-war hippie types.  Now, the GOP has been taken over by the far right tea party lunatics and I believe until they get their house in order and refocus on what has been their very conservative yet very populist platform (see: Ronald Reagan), they will be doomed to lose as the democrats were in the 1960's (I mean, they lost to Richard Nixon twice).  Anyway, that is my two cents about this election.  I promise not to have any more political content until next November.

Recovery.

       First and foremost, we are all okay.  Hurricane Sandy blew through New Jersey and most of the northeast Monday & Tuesday and knocked some trees around and took the power out.  Luckily, my family and I all made it through in one piece.  Unfortunately, the power company says I will not be getting any juice back for another 5-10 days(!) so I am currently a refugee in Pennsylvania because my brother somehow kept his electricity thought out the storm.  I am making good use of myself by dog sitting his adorable puppy while he and his wife work overtime, so I have some time on my hands.  While the dog sleeps, I figured it would be a good time to post. 

I recently had some COMC.com purchases mailed to me, and since this is probably the last bit of mail I am gonna see for a while, let's take a look at those:

I have threatened to make a page of the Upper Deck Heroes blue parallel Mets and I plucked four on the way to that goal.  The Gypsy Queen base set isn't much to look at, but some of the inserts are marvelous.  I picked off the regular and mini version of the Endy Chavez Glove Stories.  For three innings, that was the greatest catch ever.  Still, six years later, it is pretty damn good.  I also grabbed the Gary Carter mini numbered out of /99 since these cards work well in mini and sepia tones.  Also here are a couple of David Wright cards (the Mets just wisely picked up his option for 2013 and *gasp* may actually spend the money to sign him long term....).  While I am not a big fan of plain white jersey squares, this year's Ginter picture of Wright is so good - and the price was so right - I grabbed it anyway.  The last card there is a 1976 SSPC card of Jerry Koosman and Duke Snider that Night Owl featured a while ago and I was so taken with the card, I immediately went online and bought it.  The internet = instant gratification.  Of course, I waited almost 4 months to have it sent to me, so I also delayed gratification on that one too.

The second part of the batch; I was on a Tom Seaver kick:

The card that started that kick was the Allen & Ginter What's in a Name insert.  I found that one and decided to grab the other two 2012 Golden thingies I needed.  I also then got the Archives base and floating head rubdown.  The 2012 Ginter search lead me also to the Sketch card, which I grabbed, and then, somehow, I got to the 1984 traded (which I could have sworn I owned but it turns out somehow I didn't) and also some 1984 ultra oddball rubdowns.  Twins fans would like that one too.  The last card there is a Mike Piazza manufactured patch card.  Something seems a tad amiss with that one...let's take a close look:

Enhance!!!

Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick, look at that!  That's not even close, Upper Deck. Nice quality control.  What you can't really see there is the smear of glue where the patch was placed and then somehow slipped off.  I guess UD should also put the "contents may settle during shipment" warning they place on cereal boxes on their wrappers.  Oh, and this was not the card they had scanned into COMC either. I don't know who to complain to about this one...well, other than to you guys.

And on a serious note if you were in Sandy's way, I hope you and your family are safe, that the damage isn't too bad, and that the power and insurance companies are expedient.   Plus, it is times like this when we all pull together and figure stuff out.  As long as you and your loved ones are safe, that is all that matters.