one point twenty one gigawatts

Player: Len Randle
Card: 1978 Topps # 544
Errors: It appears the first baseman went out of his way to tag with the non-glove hand. Randle may have been a more effective defensive player if he had two hands.
Comments:
And so it came down to this. The past. The future. The world.
Full count. Bases jammed. Tie game.
If Randle drives in this run, then the Mets win. Then Randle will not be released by the team. Then he will be there to stop the Commies from placing The Bomb in Lee Mazzilli's locker. Then Shea Stadium will not collapse. Then democracy will be saved.
And all that Randle had been through - the DeLorian repairs, kissing his mom, shooting Doc, punching Bump "Biff" Wells - will not be in vain.
Randle pushes his left cleat into the deep dirt of San Diego Stadium, like a farmer pulling up a soybean.
Above him, the stadium's P.A. cranks out Chuck Berry's Johnny B. Goode.
"Randle you can do this," he says to himself. "It is your density."
Butch Metzger, a 6-foot-1, 185-pound Indiana boy who isn't afraid of anybody, snarls and huffs on the mound. He rears back.
"It's the heat," Randle mutters. "Fastball. Fastball. Fastball. Fas..."
The pitch is inside. Randle pulls his hands in defensively.
The baseball hits off the knob of his bat.
Clunk.
A dribbler down the third base line.
Randle freezes. Would a gust of wind push the ball foul? No one has time to find out. Randle looks in the stands. Half of the fans already vanished.
Randle tears down the line. Each step eats a yard of real estate.
He notices his right hand.
It's fading.
Why had Randall listened to Christopher Lloyd? That guy was driving a taxi last week. Now he was supposed to be a scientist? He was a buffoon! They should have never believed they could mess with this stuff. Changing the past only changed the future. Unlike the basepaths, time is not a straight line.
Randle screams and dives toward salvation, even though it is legal to run through first base in Major League Baseball (as long as you turn toward foul territory after passing the bag) and sliding reduces a player's momentum, essentially slowing him down at the critical instant.
A cloud of dust.
The umpire throws up his arms.
Safe!
Mets win.
Randle celebrates. His hand - it's back! The Mets will not release him and the bomb will never be placed. The world is back on track. Everything will be fine.
As his teammates rush the field, Randle tosses his batting helmet into the air. The Mets bench piles on to today's hero, unaware just how much he saved.
Meanwhile, the helmet careens toward the stands, catching a Hawaiian baseball fan on the side of his head. It's a violent collision.
Young Barry Obama would never hear again.
Scoring: 5-3

world serious

Players: Wade Boggs, Pete Rose

Cards: 1984 Topps Ralston Purina #4, 1999 Omega #227

Errors: Anton Chigurh, meet Peter Rose. Does Wade Boggs ever take his batting gloves off? Congratulations to the designers involved in all these uniform choices - you are an inspiration.

Comments:

TRANSCRIPT

UGLEE CARD CROSSFIRE EPISODE HI 54.645.99

ORIGINAL AIR DATE OCT 23 09

Welcome to a very special edition of Uglee Card Crossfire, World Series edition. I'm your host Tucker Carville and on tonight's program, I'm very happy to welcome some famous alumni from the teams squaring off in this year's World Series. From the Philadelphia Phillies, Peter Rose, and from the Tampa Bay Rays, Wade Boggs. Good to have both of you.

Rose: Hello, Tuck.
Boggs: Hey there, Tuck.

Well, I'll get right to it. Where do you both stand on the illegal immigration issue? It seems both the Phillies and the Rays support using immigrants from all over the world - Japan, the Middle East, Vatican City - to do their dirty work. They come here, but they refuse to learn our language, adopt our culture or eat our hot dogs. Should these players be deported or tarred?

Rose: Excuse me?

Answer the question, gentleman! This namby-pampy rhetoric is exactly - no, precisely - what has dulled the American voters into submission. Your response is just more pablum from men wearing strange, zip-up suits with large striped collars and tall-hat Tom Selleck wannabes! This is socialism at it's worst. It's very worst.

Boggs: Well, I thought we were here to make our predictions for the Series.

Yes, please go ahead, talk about baseball while terrorists and anti-American zealots are infiltrating our Boy Scout troops, teaching in our schools, driving our trains, painting our crosswalks, designing the country's Sodoku puzzles and populating our small huts. This is madness gentleman! Madness! I'd like a straight answer from the silver, ghostly embodiment of Wade Boggs which will haunt my dreams.

Boggs: Well, let's see. Uh...I'm pro-American, Tuck, if that's what you mean...er...I think the Rays bullpen could be the diff...

Bullpen? Bullpen! Oh, it's bull, all right. I don't care about some old washed up gambler. I want want to hear about Wade the Chicken Eater. I want a plan that will fix our crumbling infrastructure. I want answers to why a third basemen would wear long sleeves in Tampa while people in this country have no sleeves at all. And it's not just me - it's the American people: the baseball moms, the poker in-laws, the ping-pong grandmothers and the bowling cousins. What say you, sir?

Rose: Phillies in five?

Boggs: Rays in six?

Thank you both for being here. This has been Tucker Carville saying, if you're not American, you might as well punch yourself in the face.

Scoring: CS 1-3-6

body of evidence

Player: Mike Rossiter
Card: 1992 Topps #474
Errors: Player sent in senior picture for Major League baseball card. Player's attention was diverted from camera by some suh-weet honies walking by.
Comments:

Baseball card autopsy 1992-474. Starting time of card autopsy is 19:34. Card autopsy performed at Alameda County Medical Examiner's Office. Card autopsy conducted by Alameda County assistant deputy coroner Ken Mackenzie, badge #456TR89.
The card is that of a 1992 Mike Rossiter, an unbent regular edition card weighing 2 ounces and measuring 3.5 inches in height.
The card is dull, with a nondescript "Draft Pick" label that fails to indicate which round he was selected or by what team.
Card is cool to the touch, almost too cool. Card features player wearing a totally rad multi-colored shirt made fashionable by Miami Vice villains and the homeless.
The statistics on the back are symmetrical and show no masses or injuries. The trachea is in the midline. The hips are symmetrical and are free of scars. The lower extremities show no evidence of trauma.
The back has a significant abnormality. Two branches of a tree, possibly oak or elm, have sprouted from the back, about seven inches below the shoulder line.
In this medical examiner’s opinion, card's cause of death is attributed to a horrid fashion sense complicated by dense foliage growing from player’s back.
Scoring: FO2

you make the call

Players: Sid Fernandez, Jerry Don Gleaton
Card: 1990 Fleer #203, 1991 Topps #597
Errors: Jerry Don Gleaton is melting into his pants. Pardon me, would you mind stopping what you're doing, smiling and standing awkwardly while I take a snapshot? GQ says showing your undershirt is a fashion faux-pas.
Comments:
When you came up to the bigs, you didn't have to make these kinds of choices. But, now, alas, the time is here.
You're no longer a dominating pitcher - if you ever were. You never won 20 games or struck out 250 batters. The writers called you "crafty". But everybody knows that means you threw junk and you threw it left-handed. So, you survived. Pitched more years than Sandy Koufax, without one-tenth his stuff.
Your rookie year, you were somewhere between 210 and 230 pounds. And even though that's about 500 donuts ago, that's the weight that stays in the team media guide, forever.
But it couldn't stop you from arriving at this point in your career, a crossroads.
Obviously, the choice may not be entirely your own. You may need to consult a physician, haberdasher or butcher.
Or, more likely, you can just go with your gut.
Either way, you must confront the reality: belt or no belt?
Select a nice blue belt and you're never going to have to worry about the pants falling down. They'll be snug against your sizable posterior, no worries. They're also fashionable without being haughty.
Then again, you could end up in a one-hole's-too-tight, one-hole's-too-loose situation. Belts also put you at risk for an unfortunate buckle incident. Of course, any metal on your uniform could make you vulnerable to the 'ole Pittsburgh magnet trick.
But eschew the belt at your own risk. Sure, the elastic band is classic comfort. Good for bundling newspapers and sucking in a few extra pounds. It can also give you the breathability you need to field a Brett Butler drag bunt.
Of course, everyone knows that elastic has a mind of it's own. In the fifth inning, for no apparent reason, the band can slowly creep past your waist, head straight for your armpits, like an orange-and-black python swallowing you whole. And it's pretty difficult to scuff up a baseball on elastic.
But we all must choose. So, what will you do?
Scoring: 8-2

thanks a million

Player: Jeff Montgomery
Card: 1991 Topps #371
Errors: Player is lodged, jammed, trapped and caught squarely in the 1980s. Player is wearing Kansas City Royals apparel without the express written consent of Major League Baseball. Player - hands at the ready - is standing guard, protecting empty stadium from first base foul line.
Comments:
Dear Mike and Joan,
Sorry this has taken to so long! Between the honeymoon and the new house, we fell too far behind on sending out thank yous to all the people who blessed us with wonderful and generous gifts!
Jeff and I absolutely adore the visor and Walkman! Jeff has not taken them off since our wedding day! Can you believe that?!
Just other day, Jeff was commenting on how much he values the visor. Of course, since Jeff plays in the major leagues, the team supplies him with most of the equipment that he needs, including hats, light blue shirts with numbers on the shoulder, sliding pants and a MLB-endorsed belt. However, one thing the team trainer did not hand out is a visor! It’s great for Jeff to have a hat with no roof - it helps keep his head cool in tight spots, like facing Kelly Gruber in the bottom of the ninth! Jeff loves how the visor includes stylish blue E-Z breath vents on the left and right sides. Jeff says they mop up the sweat, just like he mops up games! And of course, it has the Royals logo - precious! Jeff claims he is going to petition the league so he can wear it during games! Who knows if he's kidding?!
Even when he's on the road, Jeff likes to have a little bit of home and the bright yellow Walkman sure helps! Many times I will record inspirational messages for Jeff to listen to as he goes to sleep, or when he’s warming up in the bullpen. It's amazing! Once, when the Royals were facing the Red Sox, the manager tried to call Jeff in to the game, but he didn’t hear it because he still had the Walkman on! Can you believe that?! He really loves that Walkman!
Sadly, our dog Brett ate both the visor and the Walkman when someone - probably the maid - left them in the backyard. Enclosed, is a picture of Jeff cherishing both items before they were eaten.
Again, there is nothing we would have wanted more than to have all the people we love and cherish with us on the day Jeff and I started our life together. Sadly, our church had limited seating.
Still, we can’t thank you enough for your thoughtful generosity. Hope to see you again.
Love,
Jeff and Tina
Scoring: 9-5-2

a low five

Player: Ryan Klesko
Card: 2003 Topps Opening Day #23
Errors: Player appears to be hitting batting practice into fans. Player believes his hat is camouflage - rest of uniform does not blend in.
Comment:
Merriam-Webster's Dictionary defines "worst" as the "most unfavorable, difficult, unpleasant, or painful." I believe this is the perfect way to describe the 2003 Topps Opening Day Ryan Klesko card. I believe this is the worst card ever put on cardboard because it is from a useless a subset, it makes no sense at all and Ryan Klesko sucks.
One of the reasons the 2003 Topps Opening Day Ryan Klesko is the worst card ever produced is because it is from a useless subset. In 2003, Topps put out a regular set, a gallery set, a pristine set, a game-used memoribilia set, a heritage set, a mini set, a blue back set, a chrome set and a traded set. There was probably even more. So, the opening day set is just one more dumb picture of a player. It's like Topps is spitting in the eyes of collectors, which is bad if you want them to buy stuff.
The second reason the 2003 Topps Opening Day Ryan Klesko is the worst card ever is because it makes no sense at all. The player is shown in a military hat, but who knows why. He's hitting off a batting tee, so it looks unique but instead it's only erstwhile and stupid and no one wants a card like that. Also, it also does not seem to have anything to do with opening day.
Finally, the 2003 Topps Opening Day Ryan Klesko is the worst card ever because Ryan Klesko sucks. He's only hit over .300 two times and he grounded into 7 double plays, both very poor statistics. He also struck out 86 times which is one of the worst things you can do because it hurts your team and doesn't add any runs. He also only got one triple, which is not many even for something hard like a triple.
There are many, many bad cards ever invented in the world. But only one can be the worst card of all time in the entire universe. Because it is from a useless subset, it makes no sense at all and Ryan Klesko sucks, the 2003 Topps Opening Day Ryan Klesko is the worst card that was ever made.
Scoring: INT

disappearing in a von hayes

Player: Mickey Hatcher
Card: 1986 Topps Twins leaders #786
Errors: Although this is a "Twins leaders" card, player lead the team in no discernable statistical categories. Player wore baseball jammies during game. Player is emerging from a cloud.
Comment:
The outlook was quite foggy for the Minnesota nine that day;
The score stood 14-3, with but 1/3 of an inning left to play.
But when Hrbek hit a grand slam and Gaetti did the same;
The single fan remaining decided not to leave the game.

Then Tuefel let drive a single, to the bemusement of all;
And Burnansky, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball.
Unfortunately the thick smog never lifted, so the fan didn’t see what had occurred:
Tom was safe at second, and Tim - hugging third.

Then from almost five throats and more there rose a dusty cough;
It ambled over Astroturf, it jangled in the roof.
It knocked upon the Xcel Center, where McCain had nearly fallen flat;
For Mickey, mighty Mickey, was allegedly advancing to the bat.

There was a cloud near Mickey’s body as he stepped into his place;
There was haze near Mickey’s helmet and a double exposure on Mickey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheer, he lightly doffed his hat;
The lone fan in the crowd wondered: ‘Is that Pigpen at the bat?’

And now the made-in-Japan sphere came careening through the air,
And Mickey suddenly vanished as if he were never there.
From the benches, there went up a muffled roar;
Mickey's teammates had long ago fallen asleep and now began to snore.

“Find him! Find the player!” shouted someone in the stand;
And it’s likely they’d-a done so had not someone spotted Mickey’s hand.
They saw a foot near second base and heard a player strain;
They assumed Mickey must have hit it and wondered if he’d ever be seen again.

The field has disappeared from view, despite playing in a dome;
The fan begins to wonder whether to turn off the air conditioning when the team’s at home.
And now Mickey’s heard rounding third, and now the fan is yelling, ‘Go!’
And now the smog swirls and spikes begin to show.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land, the fans can see the game;
Somewhere smog has lifted, and clouds have done the same;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere there is sun;
But there is no joy in Minnesota - no one knows if Mickey scored the run.

Scoring: F8

this player is for surreal

Players: Frank Bolick, Craig Paquette, Tom Redington, Paul Russo

Card: 1992 Topps #473

Errors: One of these players is not like the others; one of these players just doesn't belong. Who is Craig Paquette pointing at? Does Frank Bolick only play night games?

Comments: We are pleased to announce Paul Russo has been named the associate director of regional scouting for the Minnesota Twins. Paul, who served as interim executive assistant to the subregional director of Midwest scouting, replaces Clem Labine, who was recently promoted to senior executive director of player development and catering.

Paul joined the Minnesota Twins in 1992. He was a cartoon sketch before being painted by the esteemed Wassily Kandinsky for several years.

In addition to Paul's experience as a water color and a charcoal drawing, Paul was instrumental in encouraging the Twins to sign more illustrated players. Under Paul's leadership, the Twins scouting department has won numerous awards; including, most recently, the St. Paul County Fair Best in Show.

The Twins had many qualified candidates who applied for the position. However, Paul is an 'outside-the-cubism' thinker. He left a major impression on our leadership team, because he refuses to be abstract or transparent.

(Rumors that Paul was a real player simply using enhanced body paints have been thoroughly investigated and refuted.)

Until a permanent replacement can be found, Paul's previous position will be filled by night watchman Frank Bolick, who is currently working to transform himself from a solid to a more ephemeral artistic form, possibly a song or a spoken poetry jam.

We believe Paul puts us in the best position to move ahead in the post modern world.

Join us in congratulating Paul. (Please do not shake his hand - he smudges easily.)

Scoring: 5-2-6-2

sign on the dotted line

Player: Junior Noboa

Card: 1991 Topps #182

Errors: Player put tape on hairy arms - that is going to hurt coming off. Player appears to be wearing McDonald's brand batting gloves. That can't be a real Major League uniform. Player not making eye contact with autograph recipient.

Comments:

"Mister! Mister! Can you sign my scorecard?"

"Sure kid, no problem."

My first autograph request! Five years in the show and finally a break!

OK, stay calm. Focus, Junior. You can do this. Fear is not an option in the bigs. You are a champion. A lion.

C'mon! Your wrists are taped, you got on the suuh-weet uni and you're a pro athlete. You can do anything that you set your mind to, Junior. Mind over matter. If you don't mind, it don't matter.

OK, here we go...Wait.

What should I sign? Junior Noboa? J. Noboa? J.N. 4eva? That's stupid. How about my real name: Milciades Arturo Diaz Noboa. Yeah, and then maybe put Junior in the middle, with some quotation marks. This kid will love it! You da man, Junior. You're a tiger, a puma.

Wait. Maybe I should do a little more. Anybody can just sign their name. Heck, this dumb, ugly could kid probably could have signed my name. He'd probably even spell it right. I got to do something a little special. OK, how about: Milciades Arturo Diaz "Junior" Noboa, 2B, Expos.

Ugh. Why would I write that? He knows what position I play! He's got the damn scorecard in his hand! Pathetic. C'mon Junior, pull it together. Write something inspirational.

Stay in school. Don't do drugs. Never take a wooden nickel. Nice - that's it. Kids today probably don't even know about wooden nickels anymore. OK. "Milciades Arturo Diaz "Junior" Noboa, 2B, Expos. Don't take any wooden nickels." Yeah, real smooth.

Wait. That makes no sense. How can I tell this kid about nickels when I make thousands of dollars and he probably had to scrape together a week's pay - maybe even kill a man - just to get his tickets. It's like I'm rubbing my wealth in the kid's face. He'll probably be so mad, he'll kill again. Then I'll be an accessory to murder. Great. Going to prison.

Damn, why did I tell this kid I would sign his scorecard? Let's see, maybe...

"Hey, mister? Mister? Never mind, mister. I mean...um, thanks for trying and all, but I gotta go. But not because you're taking so long. Uh, no, that's not it. It's just that Tim Wallach looks really lonely over there and, well, nobody likes a lonely Wallach. So, you see, that's why I have to leave. See ya."
Scoring: WP, WP, WP, WP

a nice place to visit

Player: Ruben Sierra
Card: 1992 Topps Stadium Club #387
Errors: Player is neither at a stadium, nor wearing a baseball uniform, nor in the act of playing a sport. Player borrowed his hat from a Love Boat passenger. Nice bling.
Comments:
Dear Ruben Sierra,
My mother has reached the advanced stages of Alzheimer's. She requires constant care and doesn't recognize any of her family members. We love her so much and desperately don't want to send her to a nursing home. Unfortunately, her care has become exhausting to me and my wife. We're fighting with each other more than we ever have. Mom sacrificed a lot for me, so I feel like I owe it to her, but how can my wife and I love Mom - and still find time to love each other?
Frustrated in Flagstaff
Dear Flagstaff,
Thank you for writing Ruben Sierra. The love of our mothers is a very precious thing. Have you considered bringing the family to Puerto Rico? With both Spanish and English as the official languages, Puerto Rico is considered the crossroads where Spanish and Anglo cultures meet. Puerto Rico uses American currency, so it's a place the whole family can feel closer. Give it a try.
Sincerely, Ruben Sierra

Dear Ruben Sierra,
I'm a self-diagnosed car nut, who owns six vehicles. But for driving around, I prefer my 2004 Dodge Ram. It's got 103,00 miles but I treat that car as good as my kids: regular tune-ups, oil changes and she stays in the garage all winter. Last week, I was on my way to work and she started backfiring on a bridge with a slight incline. Now, she backfires every time I go uphill. I checked the fuel injectors, the gaskets, but can't find the problem. Any ideas?
Baffled in Buffalo
Dear Baffled,
Thank you for writing to Ruben Sierra. With close to four million residents, reliable transportation is always a high priority where I grew up: Puerto Rico. Did you know the average temperature is 83 degrees in the winter? This 35-mile long island is known as the "Island of Enchantment" for its diverse climates. So come and stay for a weekend, a week or a month! Also, check your spark plugs and ignition coils.
Sincerely, Ruben Sierra

Dear Ruben Sierra,
I'm 18, so this is the first year I'll be able to vote in the presidential election. I know I should care, but I'm just not that interested. Neither candidate seems to be speaking my language. But my dad says it's my duty to vote. Isn't it my right to express myself by NOT voting?
Perplexed in Pasadena
Dear Perplexed,
Thank you for writing to Ruben Sierra. Taking part in the governmental process can be a confusing time in a young person's life. We've learned that the hard way in Puerto Rico, where we have been part of the United States since 1898 - but still don't have a vote in Congress. Fortunately, since Puerto Rican residents are U.S. citizens, travelers do not have to worry about customs duties on any goods brought out of Puerto Rico to the mainland. Additionally, almost all Puerto Rican businesses accept major credit cards, and ATMs are easily accessible. Why don't you exercise your freedom and come visit us in Puerto Rico?
Sincerely, Ruben Sierra
Scoring: 9-2

previously on

Player: Oscar Azocar
Card: 1991 Topps #659
Errors: Player was not issued an official Yankee uniform, rather a souvenir t-shirt. Player might have spent a little less time with the circus tricks, a little more time in the batting cage. Player has stage fright - waits to perform until stadium is evacuated.
Comments: Last week on "Yankee Island"...
After a terrible month of June, 35 castaways found themselves stranded in Yankee Stadium, without electricity, running water, bathrooms, a radio, food, hair brushes, a simple patch for their shipwrecked boat, a movie star, Mary Ann, heat, or air-conditioning.
As each Stranded Yank uses his or her strengths to try to rescue the team, their weakness threaten to strand them for good.
Things look grim for Deion Sanders, Matt Nokes and Kevin Maas, who all disappear in the mysterious Steinbrenner Haze that hangs over the dugout. Have they vanished forever?
Normally best friends, 'The Daves' - Eiland and LaPoint - find themselves in a bitter disagreement over whose mother makes the best brownies. Will these former allies be able to put aside their differences to help the squad?
Meanwhile, catcher Bob Geren faces a personal crisis: Does becoming a man mean leaving his old friends behind? Or is there room in his life for both new friends and old pals?
At the same time, Don Mattingly and Steve Balboni's mustaches become inadvertently intertwined, threatening the safety and camaraderie on the Island.
With time running out on the Stranded Yanks, left fielder Oscar Azocar fashions a rudimentary signaling device to call for help. The bubbling beakers and flashing electrical currents he normally uses in his very scientific, high-tech lab are not available, so Azocar must return to his roots. Using only two bats and an ordinary Rawlings baseball, Azocar sends out a distress signal. Dot, dot, dot. Dash, dash, dash. Dot, dot, dot.
Will anyone hear his call? Can anyone separate the mustaches? Are there any brownies left?
Find out on this week's exciting episode of...."Yankeeeeeeee Island!"
Scoring: 1-5-3

and it's tasty, too

Player: John Wathan

Card: 1986 Topps #556

Errors: Another in the collection of fabulous light blue Major League baseball uniforms. Player may be practicing bunting with the donut still on.

Comments:

John Wathan's special baseball donut recipe

Serves four; about 8 minutes cooking time

Ingredients:

One (1) cup all-purpose flour

One-half (1/2) cup sugar

One (1) level tablespoon double acting baking powder

One-half (1/2) cup of milk

One-quarter (1/4) teaspoon of ginger

One (1) wooden bat

Instructions:

Mix flour, sugar, baking powder and milk in large mixing bowl. When ingredients are thoroughly mixed - and Lonnie Smith has grounded out - pour onto baking sheet.

While Onix Concepcion is stepping up to the plate, roll into 5-inch long strip. Fold strip into circle, until in shape of "donut" and Darryl Motley is on third.

Cook for 23 seconds on 450 degrees, or until Steve Balboni gets picked off first.

Remove crispy brown donut while Mark Gubicza warms up.

Shove donut onto bat and eat in the on-deck circle!
Scoring: CS 2-5

regular and extra strength

Player: Joey McLaughlin
Card: 1984 Topps #556
Errors: Player woke up late, wore his light blue pajamas to the game. Player may have stolen Tom Henke's glasses. The promotion for tonight's game: all blurry fans half price. Player has a finger sticking out of his glove!
Comments: Fellas, how often have you gotten drunk, shaved your head, then had to show up bald at the construction site for six weeks? Ladies, that bad perm you got at a discount salon - should it really take two months before you can straighten your bangs again?

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How do we do it? Our scientists worked for almost a month to find the perfect blend of natural ingredients and powerful chemicals. It uses the most innovative follicle acceleration compounds allowed under international treaties. Just rub Insta-Shag onto any area that needs growth, then wait for the hair to pour out. (Warning: wear gloves or your palms will be too hairy to hide! It's just that powerful!)
Don't believe us? Maybe you'll take the word of Major League pitcher Joey McLaughlin:
"On May 30, we had a big game against the Detroit. We were tied for first place and needed a win. (Manager) Bobby Cox called on me in the eighth inning, with the team up 2-0. I pitched great, striking out Herndon, Parrish and Wilson. When we scored two more runs in the top of the ninth, coach took me out. Everyone thought we had the game clinched!
But the Tigers scored four in the bottom of the ninth to tie up the game! Coach was stuck because we had no pitchers left. Dave Stieb was at his daughter's communion. Doyle Alexander had pitched the night before. Jim Acker had been attacked by a bear two nights earlier, and the trainers weren't ready to test his arm.
That's when I remembered I had some Insta-Shag in my locker. I ran into the clubhouse, rubbed some on and within three minutes I had a fully grown beard! Cox put me in again, telling the umpire my name was Moe JaGaughlin. Thanks to Insta-Shag they never knew the difference! Whitaker popped out, then after walking Gibson, I got Herndon and Cabell to ground out. The ball that Cabell hit was so covered in hair, it barely cleared the pitcher's mound!

We were in first place. I got the win, but Insta-Shag gets the save! Thanks Insta-Shag!"
Still don't believe us? Try Insta-Shag for three months and if you're not completely satisfied will send you another month's supply - absolutely free! Where else will you find that?

Insta-Shag can also be used to grow hair on dogs, turtles, Corvettes or bicycle racks. It is available in most Oscos, CVS stores and Hallmarks.
You'll soon be able to try Un-Shag, our hair growth inhibitor, which puts a burn so severe into the first three layers of skin you'll never grow hair again! (Use only under doctor's supervision. May cause death in rare instances.)
Scoring: 9-6-2

there ought to be clowns

Player: Rob Sperring
Card: 1978 Topps #514
Errors: Standing comfortably in foul territory, player has the look of a natural slugger. Blue star threatens to take over entire uniform. Player's large, bright orange belt may give fans the impression he is a crossing guard.
Comments:
October 13, 1978

To director of scouting/concession manager:
I don’t have to tell you that times are tough. The challenge for every Major League club is to fill a roster with individuals who can perform many roles without breaking the bank.
I believe I am in a unique position to help your squad. I am contacting you to offer my services as either a solid hitter with experience in both the infield and outfield, or as a clown to entertain children at your stadium.
As a player, I have logged four consecutive Major League seasons with more than 21 hits. During that time, I have played five different positions, with my specialties being shortstop and third base. The highlight for my career so far was Aug. 11, 1974 - my Major League debut - when I homered and doubled. After that day, I was sure I wanted to be a big league ballplayer. Or, if that was not possible, a clown.
My experience in the world of clowning took off this past year as I perfected my signature character: Ty Clown, the friendly baseball clown. As Ty Clown, I wear a goofy shirt, a large orange belt, comical pants and curly red hair. I have a regular routine of kid-friendly baseball jokes (Why did Lou Brock go to jail? For stealing bases!) and I am skilled at creating more than 15 balloon “animals” including: cat, dog, pony, octopus, giraffe, snake, worm, Ted Williams, Hank Aaron, tiger, blue jay, (Cubbie) bear, angel, crown (for Royals) and - for an extra fee - the Houston Astrodome.
You may have read media accounts about the June incident in Cincinnati where I became confused and used my bat during Gene Woodling’s fifth birthday. I want to assure you that was a one-time event. At the time, I had just begun taking a new medication, which caused me some hallucinations. Since then, with the help of a doctor and the support of my family, we have not had any recurrences. Not only does my settlement with the Woodling family not stop me from performing, it is actually part of my motivation to stay out there and earn money to pay my enormous legal fees.
I can provide references for both by baseball skills and clown appearances upon request.
I thank you for this opportunity to introduce myself. I look forward to meeting with you to talk more about what I could bring to the team in the position of infielder/entertainer.
Sincerely,
Rob Sperring
Scoring: 9-2

a coat of harms

Player: Dave Lemanczyk
Card: 1978 Topps #33
Errors: Player is sporting the extremely fierce and intimidating baby blue, iron-on Jays uniform. Was it cold on picture day? He paused and a brief shadow crossed his face as he considered his own mortality.
Comments:
Dearest mothur and fathur!
When or if you find this Ill alreedy be gone. I can’t say where I am but its probably passed the corner. Maybe all the way to Coach Hartsfields house. I can’t say! (DON’T LOOk at Coach Hartsfields house, or in his backyard.)
As punichment for being the wurst parents of all time you’ll probubly never see me agian! I hope your happy! YOU MADE ME SOOOO MAD!!!
It’s not fare! I told you that it was a bright sunny day out. All the other players got to where there regular uniforms! Jerry Garvin + Steve Staggs + EVEN PHIL ROOF WHO NEVER PLAYS all woar the regular uniforms. But Mom kept saying it was too cold even tho there was no fans and it was very very very very very sunny. And Dad said zip it all the way up even tho I threw 252 innings and I kNOW HOW TO WEAR A UNIFORM! I threw 11 complete games and I dont need help getting dresst!
I DID NOT WANT TO WHERE A JACkET! I LOOK LIKES A DORk!
You are the wurst parents in the entire Earth and universe. I am so mad and Bobby Bailor said I was a Momma’s Boy.
So I had to leaf. I hope your happy. YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME AGIAN!!!!!
Davey
p.s. Please remember to feed Scraps. Also, can you bring over my light blue pajamas? Leave them on the porch and I will get them.

p.p.s. Goodby forEVER!!!!
Scoring: CS 3-5

man's best friend

Player: Bob Keegan
Card: 1957 Topps #99
Errors: The players has finished his pitching motion, but is still clutching the baseball for some reason. Player appears to be standing in fair territory, but he's pitching from the outfield.
Comments:
We have gathered here in the presence of God and American League president William Harridge to witness the joining of Bob Keegan and his baseball. If anyone knows of any reason that Bob and his baseball should be parted, speak now, or at least give the bunt sign to the ushers.
Seeing none, I will proceed.
Do you, Bob Keegan, take this baseball to be your constant companion; to have and hold from this windup forward; for pictures and for game situations; for blowouts, for no hitters; in first place and in last; to love and to cherish on the tips of your fingers; from this day forward until your right arms falls off?
"I do."
And do you, Rawlings Official Major League Baseball, take Bob to have and be held by; from this windup forward; for fastball grips and split fingers; for curves, for knucklers; in foul territory and fair; to love and to cherish; even when he holds you long after the pitch should have already been thrown?
"I do."
Then, by the power vested in me by the false leg of Bill Veeck, I now pronounce you man and ball. You may now kiss the ball, although it will be ruled a balk and the groomsmen can advance.
Scoring: 4-5-6-5-6-2

the stuff righties are made of

Player: Daniel Cabrera
Card: 2007 Topps #54
Errors: Statuesque. Player may be hiding secret government information in glove clutched to his chest. Player allowed 5-year-old son to sign Major League Baseball card.
Comments: The dame walked into my office like a gumball machine spilling on an ice rink, chewy bits dashing all over the room. Of course, I knew she was trouble. What I didn’t know was how much trouble was paying today.
“Are you a detective, mister….”
“Pignatano,” I answered, coolly chewing a piece of licorice so red it would have made the Pope whistle. “Detective Joe Pignatano is what it says on the door - right below 'fire escape'. Can I help you?"
The dame wore a hat so high it nearly scratched the ceiling and blouse cut so low, it nearly touched the Devil. She leaned in like a cat toying with a wounded frog. Or so I imagined.
“Well, you see detective,” she said, lighting a pipe. “It’s my boyfriend, Danny. He’s a baseball player. But he’s got a little trouble.”
There was only two reasons a dame with a high hat and low standards comes in talking about her boyfriend. To kill him or to kill me. And that’s one more option than I can handle on a Tuesday.
“Boyfriend, huh? Well, what’s the trouble with the big lug?” I asked, trying not to look directly at the booger that was dangling from her nostril like a mountain climber clinging to Matterhorn. “Can’t find his way around the bases anymore?”
She started to cry and I almost felt bad about the wisecrack. Almost.
“It’s just that, well, he took some pills because we were having some problems, you see?”
I saw.
“And the pills,” she said, pausing to dab her face with a quilt so big it could have covered the third Hawaiian island. “Well, they didn’t work quite right. And now his arm has been erect for more than four weeks. He's just standing there, staring off into space, immobile. He can't drive. He can't go to the movies. He can’t even sign his name - he had to use his toes to cash his check. We couldn't consult a physician. So we came to you.”
She paused and looked me over like a parrot stalks a cheese doodle. I didn’t budge.
“So, can you help?” she asked.
Sure, I could. But what was in it for me? A few laughs? A quick thrill? A trip to a non-descript spring training field where only the light posts grow higher than the palm trees?
Then, she reached into her purse and pulled out $2,500 cash, like a druggist unwrapping cyanide pills.
Suddenly, it became clear. If this guy was gonna be slipped a Mickey, I was the bloodhound for the job.
“Okay, dame, I’ll take your case. Under one condition: I drive.”
Dames. They drive like a chocolate syrup on a pack of cigarettes. If you catch my drift.
Scoring: E9

to infinity and beyond

Player: Skeeter Barnes
Card: 1993 Topps #26
Errors: Extremely orange uniform. Carrying batting gloves to the field - not cool. Where’s that throw going?
Comments:
From: Bouchee, Ed
Sent: Wednesday, March 07, 1992 12:36 PM
To: Anderson, George; Ilitch, Michael
Subject: Fwd: Re: William Henry Barnes evaluation

The following is my scouting report on player William H. Barnes, 3/7/57, 5-11, 180, br, tr.
Hitting ability: Good pop in bat. Hits to all fields. Struggles with curve from lefties. Will work count.
Base running: Good instincts. Smart. Can take the extra base on ball in alley. Above average speed.
Arm strength: Extremely strong arm from any field. Could play infield or outfield.
Arm accuracy: Biggest weakness. At least once a game, player has unusual habit of throwing ball straight into the air, as high as he can. Tom Emanski brought in to work with Barnes, but game is still occasionally delayed while teammates wait for ball to come back down.
Medical update: Injured left wrist when he was punched by one of his teammates after throwing ball out of Memorial Stadium, allowing Joe Orsulak to score game-tying run. Barnes stayed in game.
Personal: Strong family background. No apparent personal issues. Teammates report some tension, as Barnes demands to be called “Scooter” or “Skeet” - not sure which. Perhaps something to do with that kid on Saved by the Bell? Unsure.
Overall rating: 62.4 Possible role player. Not suitable for domed games (high throws could ricochet, hurt fans)
Recommendation: Trade for Max Venable or Lary Sorensen, if possible.
- Ed
Scoring: 5-4

live from the rusty spikes

Player: Dave Schmidt
Card: 1985 Topps #313
Errors: Pants are slowly swallowing player - hat is already partially digested. Two of the fans at the game passed away before first pitch. Photo was taken shortly before player was hoisted up the flag pole for Star Spangled Banner.
Comments: Hey, welcome to the Rusty Spikes. I’m Johnny. Thank you, thank you. The regularly scheduled stand-up comedian was, uh, suddenly taken ill. He’s been vomiting all day. Really terrible, awful stuff. Nasty. But that’s not the worst news. The worst news is you're still in the audience!
Whoa! Seriously. Whoa!
OK, we’re all here to raise a little money for Uglee Card’s 2008 Salute! … to hair. And hey, what’s with this Uglee Card anyway? Can’t this guy write something normal? Why’s it always gotta be some exotic fish recipe or shampoo instructions or B-movie script? So the player’s a tubbo. Just say it already! Enough with the obtusity!
Am I right? Hello? Anybody there? Whoa!
Anyhow, all right. So we got this Dave Schmidt. What’s not to like about this guy? I gotta say: maybe he took the Bring Your Chia Pet To The Park promotion a little too seriously, right? Whoa!
I mean, is that a jheri curl? Did he accidentally start using Gary Ward's locker? Maybe he was Charlie Houghing some paint in the back. Do you feel me? Whoa!
That’s not right. That’s just not right!
Hey, Schmidt - the drum major from the Get Along Gang Marching Band called. He wants his pants back! Whoa! Is there a pantless clown running around? Whoa!
Am I right? Is this mic working? Or is the audience broken? Whoa!
Hey, I don’t come to your work and fall asleep, do I? Whoa!
And Dave Schmidt, buddy, I gotta say it. Wonder Woman’s missing her belt. What’s the story there, right? Whoa! Hey!
OK, OK, you’ve been great. Just kidding - you were terrible. I was amazing! Whoa!
Scoring: 7-5-2

flow it, show it, long as god can grow it

Player: Steve Trout
Card: 1981 Topps #552
Errors: Player may have caught Tom Henke Disease. Despite Major League pedigree, player has rookie-ball haircut. At least one fan (right, in yellow) decided to flee stadium rather than face hair/eyewear combo.
Comments: Welcome to Uglee Card's 2008 Salute!...to hair.
This month we will be celebrating the Hairy Scarys of MLB.
Making fun of a guy's height, his nose, his parents? Not cool. There's nothing he could do about that stuff; he was born into it.
But we can all go to the barber. Or, at least, lend our sister a pair of scissors.
Because when you make it to The Show, it's time for a Major League Buzz.
But Steve Trout never had a Crash Davis to teach him that. Instead, we're left with this candid picture, captured as Steve watched a hot dog vendor fall from the upper deck. In this graphic image, you can see all Trout's hair-related emotions: The embarrassment. The shame. The horror.
Or...um...at least you could see those feelings in his eyes. You know, if he wasn't wearing high-tech Sun Blocker 6000 glasses.
Well, 1981 Steve Trout, we here at Uglee Card salute you.
You are hereby awarded our first annual honorary: "Dave Coulier Shaggy Dog 'Do" Plaque. Wear it with pride, buddy.
Scoring: FO2