Sun's shining, there's not much wind besides a faint breeze, birds are chirping, traffic's light, neighborhood kids are quiet––it's a glorious day. And I'd be out there, too, if I weren't sorting baseball cards. Instead I've got Langhorne Slim and The 1900s pumping on the stereo, a glass of ice water and 150,000 of my closest friends spread out in messy stacks on the dining room table.
Here are some highlights:
I got this Doug Flutie in a box of CFL cards I bought in 1991. Not quite sure why I bought CFL cards, let alone a whole box of them, but I'm glad I have this card of Flutie. By the way, if you live in the Boston area, the service road to the Framingham 14 movie theater complex is called 'Flutie Pass,' making it officially the greatest name for a road in the history of mankind.
What exactly is the purpose of having so many different parallel versions of this set (1952 Style Topps Basketball)? The blue ones look okay, but these gold ones are really bad. This one's numbered 13/25. I think it would be awesome for Topps or UD to make a 0/0 set. Since the set would have no cards in it, it would be the world's rarest. Or maybe to be more practical, the set could be won through a redemption card, consisting of rejected card art. That might be kind of cool, actually.
When I went to pick this card up it bent itself into an origami swan. That's not true, but I count eight creases, like an aged palm. This is my kind of card.
If the NHL ever decides to plop a team down in Quebec City again, I would recommend a team consisting of Muppets. I know I'd go to at least two games, maybe three if they could convince an over-the-hill Eric Lindros to coach. I smell reality-show gold if this gets the green light.