Night Owl Cards

I love color. Have I established this? I have. How much do I love color? I love color so much that I'm envious of women in the summertime and black NFL players at the ESPYs. I'd like to wear something as showstopping as all that. I love color so much that I want to be one of those artists who throws different shades of paint against a wall and people rave about it. I love color so much that I never want to be color-blind, a dog or live in the '50s. I always want to see color and all of it. This is why my favorite baseball card sets are the same ones that some consider garish, ugly or the worst ever. They want to live in a dignified, well-balanced, limited hue world. How dull of them. I'll be over here trying to win the lights and display contest . Yep, I've gone commercial. And tonight, I'm going to roll around in that beautiful palette and reveal a post I've been sitting on for a long time. I'm going to count down the Top 10 most colorf...

When I am asked what my least favorite set of all-time is -- and I am asked that on a regular basis because people come up to me on the street daily and say, "Night Owl, what's your least favorite set of all-time?" and I say, "Get away from me. Read my blog. That's what the comments section is for" -- my mind goes immediately to 1986 Donruss. I have no attachment to 1986 Donruss whatsoever. I was in college at the time. I hardly collected. I didn't see a single Donruss card that year. The Jose Canseco phenomenon completely passed me by. It was as if the set never existed. Until I saw a card from the set years later. Blimey! What a horrendous-looking design. This is a case in which horizontal on a card does NOT work. I have wondered on the blog what a binder full of 1986 Donruss does to a person. My theory was that if you stare directly at it, you will suffer convulsions. Someone else suggested that staring at the hypnotic effects of '86 Don...