Reggie had been drinking again. I smelt it on his breath.
“Do you know where we even ARE right now?,” I asked him.
“Tallahassee, maybe. Tahoe?”
I rolled my eyes and finished packing up what supplies would fit in my backpack.
“See ya around, Reg,” I said and then circled towards the freeway. I knew I would never know a baseball card quite like that again.
I never did see him again, through threw a mutual acquaintance I heard that he finally made it back in time and saved all those ’52 Topps high-numbered from being dumped in the harbor. Part of me was jealous, but I was also happy he made it, and even a little proud that I had some small part in the mission.
He deserved it.
The End.
[Ok, I’m done with this dumb blog. Experiment over. Bookmark deleted. Not coming back. WordPress sucks. We’re done here. Thanks to all zero readers for not reading. LOL]
You probably didn’t realize it, but baseball cards played an important role in one of the greatest films of our lifetime.
Apocalypse Now is a classic movie, but did you know baseball cards played a vital part in the original script?
In that intense scene where Martin Sheen’s character confronts Marlon Brando, Colonel Kurtz answers back…
“You’re an errand boy, sent by grocery clerks, to collect a Bill…”
What the viewer doesn’t see is that Kurtz is holding a Bill Madlock baseball card.
So that’s the Bill that Captain Willard was sent to collect! Yes, at the heart (of darkness) of this film is a 1984 Topps Ralston Purina card of 4-time batting champ Bill Madlock.
Apparently director Francis Ford Coppola thought the baseball card arch was causing delirium in test screening audiences, so all shots of the card were edited out in the final cut of the film.
You probably know about Willie Dixon from the new blog Blue Tears of a Dodgers Fan is running a contest where you can win a 1948 Leaf Satchel Paige. One of the entry prompts is to write a post on how nature is like cards. I’m getting this entry in just under the wire, as the entry period closes in mere hours of posting.
Today I just realized the big tree in my backyard is a weed! MIND BLOWN!
I never noticed the leaves before, but yes, it’s clearly a weed. A weed that has been reaching up into the heavens for generations, undisturbed.
It must have been a wee little weed sapling back when Native Peoples walked this land. shook.
This weedtree is closer in age to the time of the dinosaurs until it’s germination, than the the length of time that it has been growing. Just think about THAT for a while.
The voices of the mystic spirits fill its leaves when the breeze gently passes through its leaves.
If you look closely at the leaves as they dance– especially on the very treetop– you can see the Native dancing ritual of this land back when it was open and free. They dance and chant songs in the night as the flames flicker in this very spot, in a time very long ago, yet nearly a wink of the life of Mother Earth.
I pull weeds just like this multiple times per year in my backyard. Now I understand these are ancient trees from the paleolithic era. The leaves are unmistakable. Long may they run. They tell the story of this land.
Ken “The Weed Man” Holtzman (“holtz” means weed in german) was also known as a wise man while toeing the rubber. He was also a very large man, even though doctors commented when he was a baby that he would most likely always be a very small person. The Weed Man showed them! He just kept on growing… reaching… learning.
There’s been a lot of talk on the blogs lately about which card is THE GREENEST OF ALL TIME… or “The Goat”. I think all of us can agree that 1975 Topps Ken Holtzman is the Goat. The card design is green… and slightly different green… and Mr. Holtzman (“The Weed Man”) is wearing a green shirt and green hat. Even the fence in the background is a dark green. If you squint your eyes, even the sky is an aquamarine shade of green, just like the skies of Ken’s childhood.
And that’s why I believe ’75 Topps Holtzman is the Greenest of All Time, and it is also like nature, which is also very green in nature. And the card grows on you like a gigantic weed, that up until this very moment, you assumed was just a normal tree.
Somehow I always knew it would come down to this. When Reggie held me to his belly and softly burped in my ear, there was little left to discuss. The new day rose to greet us.
Tebow was the key. The Quadmatrix was his baby. Or failing that, his red-headed stepchild.
Lucie was no saint, but she fed us and gave us a quiet room to sleep in. I don’t think I’ve ever slept harder. If the night would have been longer, we’d have slept for that too. But as it was, we were content with 6, maybe 7 hours, and that was the best we could hope for. The calm was gone. The storm was beginning.
“Mr. Tebow will see you when when you’re ready,” said Lucie.
Reggie and I took a deep breath and gave each other a subtle nod. It was this or nothing. We needed him and he needed us.
Yeah, Reggie, we all have a flow. Sometimes that flow flows upon others.
He might be Mr. October, but I’m Mr. Rocktober. Rocking till the break of dawn.
Everything that goes around comes around. We’re constantly putting the past behind us. Every second is another sec0nd we need to pick up and place behind us.
Reggie is a constant snake-eyes rolled. I slither around behind and hope no one notices.
sssssssss…..
A cold heart is the best defense most of the time. And Reggie had the icest cold of hearts.
I admired him for it and wished I could hold it in my hands like a baby duck. The bro just had it down pact.
Our days were longer than we had remembered. They stretched down beyond almost where we had forgotten. This was back to the beginning. But there was no time for that.
There was only time for a friendly nod then a return to the grind that had our jaw locked in place. We held hands and leaned into it.
The stench of rust was thick as Reggie and I awakened after a night of sleepriding our motorcycles through the Mojave Desert. You’d think we would have relaxed our grip at some point, but we had only tightened our resolve through the night.
“You hungry?” I asked Reggie.
“No, I’m a baseball card. Cardboard to the core. But you eat up, my friend,” he replied.
I had a couple strips of bacon that had warmed themselves on my hog’s engine. Good not great. I’m not normally a religious fella, but I threw out a quick prayer of thanks and a request for happiness to whomever might’ve been listening.
I knew the quadmatrix wasn’t far from here. Another couple days tops.
Sometimes cards cross the line. If a card touches you inappropriately, you should let others know.
Cards shouldn’t be a source of sexual sadness. They should uplift and unite. We can’t pretend that these problems have just gone away. They are there within us all. We must fight them with all our strength.
Love should be celebrated, no one is arguing this. But the lines can blur and we must not make competitors out of lovers.
If you don’t believe this, stop following me right now. Like seriously, I see you crouching behind that trash can, you creep! Your footsteps ring out in the night.
Please remember that Superstar Celebrations can beautiful things, but remember to get Superstar Consent before crossing the line into naughty territory. It could be very important to you and your children. And there’s nothing quite like the feel of velvet on your wedding day. This is something we all know.
I found this card under an enchanted toadstool. At first he cried when I pulled him away from his familiar surroundings, but by the time with got to the blacksmith’s cottage, we were the best of friends.
Stanch Joe was the name of the blacksmith. Good ol’ Stanch Joe! He fixed us up with a sword so we could go make names for ourselves. I always held the sword since Reggie Jackson was a baseball card, but he was sensitive about it so I didn’t bring it up. We were a team. He may not have been tough in battle, but he was always there with a pep talk to give me the courage I needed to reach deep down and face the dangers ahead of me.
And trust me, we’d need all the help we could get! Our journey was just beginning.