Classic card of the week



Anonymous, 1990 Upper Deck

There are four reasons why a baseball player’s name would not appear on his own baseball card: a) that player is so well-known that it is actually unnecessary to include that player’s name on the card, b) somebody just straight-up forgot to include the player’s name on the card, c) this player simply does not exist, and everything you are seeing is an illusion, or d) you are in a movie, and this player is your father, and you have to go back in time and save him from going into that building that was on fire, and then his name will appear on the card again.

So, if this is a player who is so well-known that his name goes without saying, then I’M the moron. There is only one player I can think of from the 1990 Houston Astros that trancended sports and became an international superstar, and whose name was not required to print on a card because everyone already knew who he was, and that man was Franklin Stubbs. This is not Franklin Stubbs. Trust me. Upon further review, it seems as though somebody at Upper Deck just made a boo-boo, and I will now turn the card over in order to reveal who this player is…



Okay, this is getting strange. Every relevant piece of personal data is included -- from this person’s weight, to the number of stolen bases he had in 1987 -- except, ya’ know, his name. Why are you messing with my emotions, Upper Deck? My interest is now peaked, and there is no going back. Not to brag, but I am an expert in Google searches, so if you’ll excuse me, I am now going to get to the bottom of this mystery…

“Astros + white dude + 6-2 + shin guards + outfield + Canada + opposite of Franklin Stubbs + 234 at-bats in ’88 + mustache-less + pants + lefty stroke + 1990 + penchant for taking modest lead off of third base”

......

.....

....

...

..

Google sucks.

Did you know?
It's Terry Puhl. This has been a colossal waste of time.

Comments

Bill said…
The worst part about being in a movie and having to save your father so he still can exist...is the part where you are in such danger of not saving him, that parts of his body start to disappear. Like an arm, a leg, or in Terry Puhl's case, maybe a right shinguard. As if you stopped right at that moment and didn't do anything else to save him, but didn't do anything else to doom him, he'd exist in exactly that state - sans arm, leg, or right shinguard, for the duration of his life. Am I right? Am I right folks? (No laughter) Take my wife, please...