Monday, April 21, 2008

I'm "F#ck Face"

I have a large wooden chest filled with baseball cards. Have I mentioned that I'm 29 years old? Have I also mentioned that I'm not really a collector of baseball cards? So why would I still have a large wooden chest filled with them? To me that's a rhetorical question. It's not so much why I continue to keep all the cards that I collected as a kid. It's more a question of why I collected them in the first place.

Example: My prized baseball card continues to be the errored Billy Ripken Fleer card from 1989 where there's a curse word written on the handle of the bat. Ever since I was a kid, that card spoke to me. For one, I loved, and I mean LOVED curse words. I didn't say them myself. But I loved it when other people did. So for me, seeing "F#ck Face" mistakingly written on a baseball card was about as good as it got. Another reason that this card spoke to me was because I was Billy Ripken. Not literally of course. But I was in the sense that I was a sub par baseball player with an older brother who was much better than I was. Billy had Cal's Junior and Senior, with Senior being both his dad and his coach. I had Greg's Junior and Senior, with Senior also being both my dad and my coach. Billy sucked and was probably only a member of the Orioles because his older brother was good. I sucked and was probably only a member of my Little League team because Greg was good. And so it went that I became a fan of Billy's.

I bring this up only because I accidently came across a website that was talking about that very card. The person bringing it up said something like "I remember a friend of mine had an old Billy Ripken card with F#ck Face written on it. Does anybody know what that thing is worth?" and somebody responded to him with "very little, like a buck or two."

A buck or two? No way. Not to me. And that's while I'll never sell it.

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  1. Molly Says:

    That blog brought a tear to my eye, F#ck Face.

  2. Anonymous Says:

    F#ck Face/Brain/Bondo/Mike appreciates that