From a short stop to a center fielder

 

I'll say one thing for March, it's never not interesting.

 

I probably go on way too much about this month, but it keeps coming up with new and irritating ways to mess with my life. And I have a story to illustrate.

 

Since it's March, we're in the thick of state high school basketball playoffs, along with collegiate hockey playoffs and, heck let's start the spring season earlier and earlier because there's nothing else going on this month. It's always the busiest month at work and getting busier.

 

A co-worker was scheduled to work Thursday, Friday and Saturday and travel to cover our basketball teams in state play two of those days. On Friday, he sent a text saying he had a cold and wouldn't be in Thursday, he'd work from home. OK, no problem, nothing to cover that day. But late that night, I realized he did no work from home at all, and I had to do it, because we've been shorthanded since 2023 and we've got only two guys.

 

Friday came and I still didn't hear anything from him. I got concerned. I sent him a text. Nothing. I told the news editor, she thought it was odd. I went to dinner, and came back. "Hear anything?" the news editor asked. Nope. What to do. Should we go to his house? Should we call the big boss? Should we call the cops? I finally contacted a co-worker who knows the house. She tried to call him. Nothing. She said she'd drive in and check (I was incapable because I had so many pages to fill, I am tied to the deck for hours straight). Needless to say I was distracted and kept screwing up on my work because my mind was elsewhere.

 

The other co-worker who checked finally texted and after banging on the guy's door, found out that he was sick. Apparently too sick to call or even text, even after I texted a note of concern. I think I'd be able to text even amid a bout of puking, but I don't know all the details.

 

So now I've been working without a day off through all the busy-ness, waiting for him to get better.

 

This isn't even the weirdest March work story. In 2007, when we had a full staff, we sent five different people to the Albany area to cover various championships at various sites. That same weekend a Nor'easter decided to blow through the area and drop feet of snow. I was fielding panicked calls from employees as they couldn't navigate their routes back to the hotel or to file their stories. Just chaos. One co-worker couldn't get to her hotel until 3 a.m., hours after she should have been there. While I was taking those calls and trying to talk a couple of them off their figurative roof, a long-time worker doing a job we no longer have keeled over off his chair. He was a big guy and he was out. People in the office were freaking out, I was on the phone with people freaking out. A news editor happened to be an EMT, too. He gave him CPR, and the guy eventually came to. We did not make deadline that night.

 

March.

 

I have other March stories (how about that one March when covid hit?), but you've probably had enough. This is why I go on about this month, and why I can't understand why people place their events, which obviously could occur some other less-active month, in the middle of March. This is also why I hate daylight savings time and still am not over whoever moved it from April to March.

 

Stress is through the roof this month. I have a medical condition that doesn't like stress. While I keep it in check much of the time, I was having a bad period and this was making it worse. Sorry, I'm still going on, and I still haven't shown a card. But I need to get this out.

 

So after all that, and knowing I would have to work on my day off yesterday, I still went to the monthly card show. I was in no condition to do that. But my daughter's birthday is in March (so many events) and I needed to get some shopping done so I was going to be out anyway. After stopping at one store, I was wearing down already. I drove to where the card show was, walked in and paid my money (still too much). I knew I couldn't stay long.

 

I walked through the aisle where the guy who has become my regular dealer since I started going to these shows was. Earlier in the day I had updated my '50s Bowman wants on my want lists. I realized all I needed to finish the '52 Bowman Dodgers was a Duke Snider. I asked the dealer if he had one. He didn't. But under the glass I spotted a '52 Topps Duke Snider. I looked at the price. Good enough. I'll take it.

 

 

It's got issues, like every 1950s card should. I appreciate the dealer making a card in this condition available instead of presenting a near mint copy in a graded case for a price I'd have to save up three years to obtain.

 

 

It's a black back. I don't distinguish between the blacks and the reds. A '50s card is challenging enough to land, I'm not going for variations.

 

Snider is not an elusive high-number in this set, but still he's a Hall of Fame center fielder and I need three other low-number Dodgers in Hodges, Loes and Russell. So I'm happy I tackled this one!

 

That was it for me. I had to get home and drove back to mope around before I had switch the fun card computer into the work computer.

 

This story is why I will not reach retirement and re-consider. I know what March is like and the older I get the less I can handle it. I can't imagine a time when March will be just another month, but I am looking forward to it.

 

At the very least, you won't have to read any more March rants from me.