Classic card of the week
Dante Bichette, 1996 Upper Deck
Yo, yo, yo, Melly-Mel, wussup, wussup, wussup, it’s Dante … Bichette, foo! Whatchu think? Stop playin’ … Not much, just sitting here, trying to avoid BP, ya’ know, the ushe … Whatchu mean, ‘How’m I talkin’ right now?’ Ever heard of a cellular phone? Get with the times, bro. Whatchu on a landline or some shizz? Gettin’ wrapped around a curly cord? You crazy. This thing is as mobile as it gets. You should see it—it’s sleek as hell, yo. Only thing is, it’s got all types of invisible, dangerous laser rays popping out of it in all directions. Technology, ya’ know? That’s why I’m wearing my batting gloves and helmet, just to be safe. Anyway, wussup witchu? … THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! I’m trying to get this day game over with, son! What time are we meeting? … Eight!? What are you like, a grandpa or something? Club don’t get bumpin’ till 10, at least. Besides, I gotta shower and fluff the mull. Takes time, bro. Make it nine. Compro-miz-ize. We’ll do din-din at the Tin-Tin, aiiiight? … True, true. Hey, you talk to Michelle yet? … What’d she say? … Uh, huh … Uh, huh … What!? First of all, I was wasted. Second of all, what are we married now? Geez, these broads. Listen, tell her that chick I was talkin’ to was my cousin or something. Then, tell her I’m sorry. Make it sound good though! Sincere, but like I don’t really care, ya’ know? Good. Then tell her I’mma hit a home run for her today. Or a single. Or a walk. At least a walk, tell her. Then tell her to wear that blue dress tonight, okay? … Oh, listen—remember when you talk to the chicks, it’s not Club Android anymore. Those dudes got arrested last week. It’s called The Android Club now. New owners. From Russia or something … Yeah, same cover. Man, you are cheap … Well I told you years ago you could be makin’ millions like your boy over here, but noooooo—you just had to follow in your dad’s footsteps. Sucka. Don’t hate on me … Whatever, bro … What? Who called? … Ted Williams? Weird. I’ll call him back whenever. Listen, I gotta go. Baylor’s on my case. Dude is such a hard-ass. Besides, these lasers are giving me a headache. So nine o’clock, aiiiiiiight? And remember—blue dress! Aiiight, peeeeeeeace.