Night Owl Cards

I've got myself another little recurring series here. It's another one of those time-savers that requires minimal thought. In other words, it's almost a Tumblr post. (Remember my Tumblr page? It was a good idea until I realized the format doesn't think fondly of words and that was the end for me. This also means never expect to find Night Owl Cards on Instagram). I'm calling it "well, lookie there." It's what one might say as they're going through their collection and spotting something interesting that they are discovering for the first time. ... OK, it's what I might say as I'm going through my collection and spotting something interesting for the first time. The posts in this series after this one will feature some sort of name or title after the "well, lookie there," intro, at which point I expect readership to plummet dramatically for this particular series. That's usually how it goes. The debut entry has to do w...

(Greetings. I've returned from a few days away. During those days, I didn't buy one thing or view one scintilla of college football. But I know I'm still an American citizen because I ate like the world was ending tomorrow. Now that I'm back, it's time for Cardboard Appreciation. This is the 217th in a series): Autographs. I value them, yet I can't be bothered to acquire them. Does that make sense? It does to me. Let's see if I can explain. I do enjoy an autographed card. I like the idea that a major league player spent a couple of seconds to sign a baseball card that I own. I feel a connection to the player -- no matter how slight -- because he signed my card. But I view those cards almost as an "extra" in my collection. They aren't the reason why I collect. Autographed cards are almost like the gimmick in my collection. If I were to give someone a tour through my cards, I'd go through all of my sets and then all of my Dodgers a...

My updating on this blog could be intermittent, and my updating on my other blogs non-existent, while I deal with some life issues this week. I don't know how long I'll be dealing with them, but here's hoping it's quick. Meanwhile I could use something lighthearted as a diversion. There's not many sets more lighthearted than 1992 Donruss Triple Play. I paid this set no mind in '92. Not to say I didn't buy any of it. I bought any card that dared show its wrapper in '92. My philosophy about cards then was "purchase it all, complete none of it." Well, the second part wasn't supposed to be part of the motto, but when you try to buy as many sets as they put out in '92 with the money that I made, you're not completing anything. When I bought the cards, I don't think I really looked at them. Nothing from '92 stands out as memorable to me. Maybe Pinnacle. That's it. If I was really looking at cards, I'd notice t...

First, if you haven't voted for which set blog you'd like me to start, head to this post and then vote in the poll on the sidebar. OK, onward: I received this card from Those Back Pages  a week or so ago. It was a Nebulous 9 need, which means I am super-happy to check it off the list. Donruss Triple Play should never, ever, ever be needed . Juan Samuel's awesome action was shipped to me as basically a one-card agreement. "I've got a card from your list for you," is what TBP said. So I expected to pull a single card out of the envelope. But this card came out, too: Excellent. A night card. And a stadium shot. It was a finalist in the Awesome Night Card tournament a year or so ago. I have a few copies of this card. It'd be cool if I could get nine of them and then put them in a page to kick off my night card binder. But then people might think I'm a Cubs fan, and I'd never want that to happen. But the point is, I wonder if there's ...

I'll take just a moment here to recognize one of the high holy days of night card-dom. Twenty-two years ago today, the first complete night game at Wrigley Field took place. The Cubs beat the Mets, 6-4. Frank DiPino got the win, Sid Fernandez the loss, and Goose Gossage the save. The first night game was actually scheduled for the night before against the Phillies. But after 3 1/2 innings, the game was called because of rain, and the overly dramatic lamented that night baseball "was not meant to be." (I always remember that 8-8-88 date, not because of the numbers, but because it was an old girlfriend's birthdate. We planned something big for when 8-8-88 came around. Unfortunately, when the date came around, the relationship wasn't around). In the name of progress, the Cubs forged on the next night, won the game, and have continued to host night games ever since. There was a lot wailing when the Cubs decided to end their run of all day games. I wasn'...