it's gold, jerry, gold!

Player: DeWayne Buice
Card: 1988 Donruss #58
Errors: Player could only afford half a sweatshirt. In lieu of belt, player given multi-colored elastic band. Background of card borrowed from Tron.
Comments: DeWayne stared at the letter. He allowed each word to burn. He let the hurt simmer and overflow. He was beyond pain.
"Dear Mr. Buice: Thank you for submitting your gold necklaces. While you show great talent, we regret to inform you that we are not hiring additional artisans at the present time. We will keep your letter on file. We have returned your work, as requested. Thank you and best of luck with your job search. Sincerely, Newton Designs, Inc."
DeWayne could only shrug. He had given up so much for his craft. He walked away from his parents during the rainy season, leaving them without his bamboo expertise. For three years, he had eaten only Ramen and corn flakes, saving up for his carving tools. He had stripped his own car to get metal for the DeWayne "UnDeNiable" collection. And Sharon. Poor Sharon.
What was the point?
Maybe even Sharon's death in the horrible smelting accident - it was an accident, dammit! - might mean something if a gallery would just give him a chance.
Instead, the rejection letters piled up like broken dreams printed on 8-1/2 by 11 pink slips. Bracelets would never find wrists; earrings would never dangle; necklaces would never highlight a nape.
"I have talent and desire," DeWayne thought to himself. "I need marketing. I need exposure."
Suddenly, DeWayne remembered that he could throw a fastball 93 miles per hour. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?
DeWayne would play baseball.
There, in stadiums filled with thousands of people with expendable incomes, he would showcase his true love: jewelry.
Over the next 10 years, DeWayne underwent intense physical and psychological training.
In each game, he'd pitch his heart out - necklaces prominently displayed.
In Great Falls and Cedar Rapids, DeWayne dazzled. Fresno, West Haven. He always requested V-neck jerseys.
Of course, there were still nights when DeWayne would hold his necklaces and cry out Sharon's name. Why hadn't he checked the pressurization valve?!
DeWayne trudged on: Tacoma. Nuevo Laredo. Midland. Edmonton.
Then, finally, the big show. On April 25, 1987, Willie Fraser was struggling. Gene Mauch looked down his bench and his eye caught the glimmer of a 18K gold necklace, byzantine in style with a clasp in the back.
"Buice! Warm up!"
DeWayne took the mound against the Minnesota Twins, with 51,717 potential customers in the stands.
He pitched 2-2/3 innings that day, giving up just one run. Although the Twins would win when Gary Gaetti singled in the ninth, it was a short-term defeat for DeWayne. Later that night, he'd discover that his answering machine contained 16 new orders for the UnDeNiable necklace, all from people who were at the game.
But even that was secondary to what happened when DeWayne walked out of the Metrodome.
"Hey, nice necklace," a woman shouted from the sidewalk.
DeWayne looked over. It was Sharon's identical sister - the one who hadn't been killed in a horrible smelting accident. Things were beginning to look up for DeWayne Buice.
UnDeNiably.
Scoring: 3-1

paint by win-loss numbers

Player: Dave LaPoint
Card: 1988 Topps #334
Errors: High school yearbook photo used on Major League baseball card. Topps hired 12 photographers, but 13 painters. Player is being kept in some sort of cage.
Comments: LC: Good evening, and welcome to Card Chatter. I'm you're host Larry Chiti. Today we're going to be talking with David Throneberry, a "field recreation artist" with Topps. Do I have that title right?
DT: Yes, or field recreationist for short. I'm honored to be here. I just hope that my work - my passion, really - can bring a little bit of insight into the art of cards for your readers, viewers and listeners. Really, I'm here to learn as much as give.
LC: Okay, well, we're glad you could make it. I guess I'd like to start with your latest work. You call it DAVE LaPOINT WHITE SOX. It's...well, I'll let you describe it.
DT: Thank you for asking that vital question about what I think is a vibrant piece of art. I guess I should start by telling you how I work. For that particular piece, I spent days interviewing the friends, relatives and former lovers of Mr. LaPOINT. I was careful never to speak with the player himself. In this way, I kept neutrality in my work. If I had met him and we had become friends - traded MySpace addresses, talked about fishing - then I may not have been able to see the DAVE LaPOINT as the world sees him.
And, Lawrence, that's the point of a baseball card, isn't it? To hold a mirror up to the game, then let it reflect on the bleachers and the sky boxes?
LC: Well, okay. It's just that...well, I want to show our audience another card from the 1988 Topps oeuvre. It's a Greg Walker card from the same year. It's not one of yours, but I think it shows an interesting counterpoint. Can the audience see that there?
Audience: Yes! We! Can! Wooo!
LC: Good, good. Well, I guess my point in showing this Walker card is...well, take a look at the uniform Walker is wearing. It's the home uniform, but it serves my point. Notice where the "White Sox" is positioned. Right about nipple level.
But on your recreation - one where you were detailed enough to add a prominent button - you put the "Chicago" very high on the player's chest. We can't see it here, but the 'O' would have been on his shoulder.
DT: Thank you. Thank you.
Honestly, that's all I can say - thank you.
Finally, someone who understands. That arrangement came about because of a little anecdote I picked up from LaPOINT's high school baseball coach. In talking to this man, I understood how much LaPOINT's success meant to him. So, the button represents that small-town-boy-makes-good-while-wearing-the-town's-hopes-on-his-chest-and-doesn't-lose-touch-with-his-roots-no-matter-how-big-the-stadium-is feel. There's a post-World War II life in the card.
LC: But it looks nothing like the real White Sox jersey. The hat is well-recreated, but the jersey adds details in distorted ways.
DT: Exactly. That's the challenge behind the card. That's the mystery behind playing Major League baseball. This man was traded for Rollie Fingers AND Matt Nokes. Trading men. Imagine. But through it all, LaPOINT wasn't forgotten by Glen Falls, New York, Raging Rapids head baseball coach John Cocroft. And he wasn't forgotten by Katie Williams, the Glen Falls, New York, soda girl with pink nail polish. This recreation says that. All of it. Plus some. The audience sees that in their hearts.
LC: Wow. That's all the time we have. That's all the time we'll ever have.
Scoring: 6-5

happy valentine's day, ladies, from john smiley

Player: John Smiley
Card: 1988 Topps #423
Errors: Player fails to live up to last name. Player is apparently throwing pitches from outside the foul lines, a violation of Major League rules. Player was given uniform without team name or number, also a violation of Major League rules.
Comments: Listen up, baseball babes. John Smiley wants you to know something.
Pitching in the major leagues is serious business. There's no doubt about it. On some days, it can be deadly serious.
That's why John Smiley likes to scowl. Sometimes, he'll stand in the locker room for hours just working on his frown. Once, in the minor leagues, he injured himself during a 12-minute glowering.
But that doesn't mean when he's off the mound - when he's away from the diamond battlefield - that John Smiley doesn't appreciate the softer things in life.
John Smiley likes walks on the beach. John Smiley can appreciate the beauty of America's many national parks. John Smiley enjoys monogrammed golf balls.
So, all you fine home-team honies out there, have a great Valentine's Day. Enjoy the chocolates, the candlelight dinners and the sweet nothings.
But never forget that the next day (and every fifth day following that), John Smiley will be back to the task at hand: glaring batters to death.
Scoring: 3-6-3

glasses so big, he can see the future

Player: Tom Henke
Card: 1988 Topps All-Star, #396
Errors: Big glasses. Too happy. Obscenely yellow. Possible decapitation photo. Chest hair.
Comments: Looking at Big Tom's stats, two things stuck out:
One, how did he finish seventh in Rookie of the Year voting after his fourth year in the big leagues? He pitched 25 games the year before! Maybe no one noticed. But, I digress.
Two, I was impressed that he saved 36 games with a 1.82 ERA in his last year. Big Tom went out on top. Unfortunately, the age of the contact lens pitcher was upon us by then, make Big Tom a relic. Honestly, have we no room in our hearts for a Tom Henke, a Kent Tekulve? Eric Gagne was close with the prescription goggles, but we all know that's not the same thing.
Where are ye now, Tom Henke? We miss you and your Coke-bottle happiness.
Scoring: 3-1