Mexico Comes To Huntington This Friday

There are so many things I could write about Fernando Valenzuela... but I'm not gonna say any of them here and now. I have another card of him as a Padre so I'll blather on about his illustrious career some other time. I'm just posting this one because it represents Mexico and I'm really stoked for our cerveza, not beer party that's going down Friday. Between a bunch of different kinds of Mexican beer, Scrabble, a pinche megaphone and the guarantee of my Brain Hero schooling me left and right, what's not to look forward to?

...and, yes, that's our gang sign (it's dos equis and a quesadilla- although I guess you could argue that it's a taco).

Ready, Aim, Wait To Get Fired.

Here's a double shoutout to the man responsible for our recent offensive explosion... or something like that. What's the over/ under on his firing? I'm putting my money on September 2010.

Until recently, my only memory of ol' Randy consisted of him being the other warm body ushered out of town with Krukkie. I was heartbroken- and it had nothing to do with Ready's departure.

"Rickey gets on"

I scanned and uploaded ths card back in January with plans of posting it the day he went in The Hall. Whoops! However, my pot-addled memory doesn't take a thing away from the FACT that Rickey was the greatest player to ever step foot on the diamond. Even if he were a surly cockass ala Bonds, his greatness would still be undeniable. Fortunately for all of us, Rickey was, and still is, a gracious man of the people. Many old white men have derided his flashiness and confidence but there are few athletes I'd consider acceptable role-models for my potential children... and Rickey's right up there.

Negra Modelo, Bleach & David Wells

This entry begins like so many others: I was making a late night Walmart run for mexican beer. This particular night I was already more effed up than anyone really has any business being. I chose six Negra Modelos as a change of pace and grabbed some job-enabling hair bleach before meandering up to the cards and picking out a discounted-to-$5 six pack box of '07 UD. The one Pad I pulled was the one guy I've seen start more games than anyone else. I've always been a fan of Boomer Wells, even when he was a Yankee- and if you know me, you know that's saying something. Nice card, nice memories. Worth $5? You be the judge.

Piazza

Seeing Alex Cora play the past few days has reminded me the only other person I was a fan of despite their Filthy Effin' Dodgerdom. From minor-league Little League through high school, I split time between second base and catcher because Joey Cora and Mikey P. kicked so much ass. When we snagged him up for the '06 season, I totally wound up with a PFOB; worlds had collided.

Koooooouz!!!

I thought that how SD fans supported Kouz through his slow start in his rookie season was classy and respectable. The backlash he's receiving now seems to negate that. Kevin established himself with a strong rookie campaign despite the aforementioned poor exit from the gate. His sophomore season was derailed by injury and nearly everybody I've heard utter his name as of recent is ready to write him off barely a month into this season. As for me, well, I'm not quite ready to lump him with Joe Charboneau just yet...

Continued

Note: the card has absolutely nothing to do with the story.

When somebody shoves a gun in your face, you tend to do what they say; I raised my hands and slowly lowered myself face first on the floor until I was handcuffed and dragged onto the porch with the rest of my friends as three misguided departments of law enforcement set upon destroying the house. During this time we were asked if anyone had any drugs or weapons and I volunteered my meager two grams, max bag of herbal... this turned out to be the only drugs on the premesis so they hauled me to regional on a ticketable offense, both to save face by having something to show for their full-scale failure and to try to pump me for information about things I know nothing about. Good times...

Okay, where was I?

My story picks up the next day. It was about half past midnight and I was sitting on my friends couch putting my shoes on to head to the bar. It had been what Ice Cube and everybody else would consider a good day; we had a cookout with lots of friends and every type of meat you can think of throwing on a grill. I took a little nap around ten, got up an hour later to five friends sitting in the living room, drank a couple of beers, reached into my pocket for my glass piece and my meager sack of kind when...

"BLAM!" The door flew open and instantly there was a gun in each of our faces.

(to be continued.)

Ian MacKaye would call this post "Filler"...

Sorry to put it off another night, but I'm pretty effed up and don't have it in me to tell a story. Reminisce about Q. Veras in the meantime...

Padres get Gaudin.

We now interrupt your previously scheduled story to present the newest Portland Beaver. Photographic evidence says he likes to rock a long chinpiece so eff yeah...

...and now for something completely different:

I've resisted the urge to post cards of Pads featured as members of other teams and then I pulled this. Well, not this one per se but one that once looked just like it- if you're confused, don't worry; I'm in the process of explaining it...
Well, my wife and I have been on the outs yet again so I temporarily relocated to my friends' house in my life long hometown. My second day there, I went to my childhood cardstore for the first time in ten years and bought, amongst other things, a box of 1991 Classic. Along with Big Gillie, I pulled a Rondell White and several other eventual Padres. My prize pull, even more awesome than a Single-A Giles, was a Single-A card of Paul Fletcher. I already had that card, signed, from when he did an appearance at that very cardstore as he's one of two guys from Ravenswood to make the Majors- the other being my across-the-street-neighbor Larry Carter but it was still cool to pull him from a pack...

(story continued tomorrow)

This Site Still Exists.

Hey, everybody. Sorry I've been away so long- I have a good excuse-I'll clear that up tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy this shot of an alleged doer of several bad things. In related news, while I was going through old stuff at my mother's house this Easter while trying to avoid my jerkoff brother-in-law, I found a scorecard from a game I handscored at age 11 in 1994 featuring the hometown Rochester Red Wings beating the Charlotte Knights. Starting in LF for Charlotte? Yep.