Idiots Write About Sports

So on my way to watch a Cal League baseball game being contested on the surface of Mercury — that write-up is coming soon, I swear, just as soon as I finish taking fluids — I stopped at my parents’ house. Ever since we closed escrow on our own pad, my father has been on me to retrieve the boxfuls of personal effects that have been stashed in his garage since I left home. Since I led the life of an itinerant newspaper writer, I argued, it made no sense for me to haul all that stuff with me from one move to the next. But now that I’m tied down to one address for the next 30 years — or until the revenuers come and take the house away — that argument holds no weight. So I picked up three of the boxes this past weekend and will get the remaining three this coming weekend.

It’s been quite a stroll down memory lane, going through these boxes. Apparently, I saved just about every piece of paper ever handed to me, including but not limited to: a program from San Ramon Valley High’s 1986 production of You Can’t Take It With You featuring my stellar turn as FBI Man No. 3; a copy of the Contra Costa Times sports section from February 1994 — it was the morning after the women’s figure skating competition in that year’s Olympics — that was in one of my boxes for no discernable reason; and every rejection letter from every newspaper I wrote to in college looking for a job. I suppose the snot-nosed punk in me intended that to be either some sort of perverse form of motivation or a nascent enemies list of the people on whom I would have my revenge once I made it in this business. (“I’m executive editor of the Web site for a major monthly magazine now — in your face, West Valley Times editor who turned me down for an internship in 1992!”) Those items and dozens more like them found their way into the recycling bin. I’m also sad to report that anyone planning a biography of me will have to soldier on without letters written by girls I dated in the early ’90s unless you manage to rifle through my garbage before the Alameda County Industries trucks pull up in front of my house at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

It was a journey full of emotional highs (“Say, I wasn’t a bad writer back then…”) and lows (“Oh wait… yes, I was”), from assessments both positive (“Well, I turned out pretty well…”) and negative (“I am a talentless hack who wasted all his early promise). Mostly negative (“I am a talentless hack who never even had the benefit of early promise.”) But it was also the chance to come across a lot of stuff I had hanging on the walls of my bedroom in high school that I just can’t bring myself to toss out without taking one more shot at finding them a good home.

So I thought I’d offer them to you people.

These are some posters I found amid a box of Garfield books I didn’t even remember I owned. They’re not necessarily in mint condition, but they’re not in horrible shape, either. Who knows? Maybe there’s something beyond the jump that’ll strike your fancy — it’s yours for a kind word and the cost of postage.

This is a poster commemorating the Chicago Cubs' 1984 divisional championship. As you can see, the giant head of Jim Frey is contemplating his next strategic move, while a pair of indeterminate Cubbies do battle with a guy wearing a yellow cap. Take that, Yellow Cap! Less visible in this shot is the fact that Wrigley Field is apparently laid out like a soccer pitch.

So that's how the Cubs won 96 games that year.

These arial views of a mid-1980s, pre-lights Wrigley Field brought to you by the good men and women of Marathon Oil. Marathon Oil -- making giveaway day posters for nearly two decades!

Yes, it's another Cubs poster, and yes, we're once again celebrating that 1984 divisional championship with Maoist renderings of the Heroes of the Revolution. I understand Ryne Sandberg's place of prominence in the poster and even why the disembodied head of Dallas Green floats beatifically in the upper right corner. But what did Jody Davis do to earn such a massive amount of poster space? All Rick Sutcliffe did was win a Cy Young Award that year and not only is he dwarfed by Davis, he has to share his place of glory with someone who quite possibly is Steve Trout. That just ain't right, drunken rambling or no.

Now, at this point, you are perhaps asking yourself, "How does a man who has spent his entire life residing in California come to own so many Cubs posters?" The answer is, that man has many relatives in the Chicagoland area who know of his love for baseball yet are unwilling to pony up for merchandise featuring Golden State-based ballclubs. So there.

Yes, that's a poster of Steve Sax, and, keeping in mind that I grew up a Dodger fan before renouncing the team during the Murdoch ownership, I don't know why I own it either. I mean, no one has a Steve Sax poster. Not even Steve Sax. OK, Dave Sax probably has a couple. But that's it.

Looking at the Steve Sax poster, it's really hard to fathom why I didn't have more dates in high school, isn't it?

There are three losers in this photo. Can you spot them all?

Much like the poster bearing Steve Sax's boyish grin and natty Nike warm-up pants, I have no earthly idea why I still have a poster immortalizing the twin doomed campaigns of Michael Dukakis and Leo McCarthy against George Bush I and Pete Wilson, respectively. Perhaps I kept it as a reminder that running uninspiring Massachusetts politicians against guys named "Bush" is a recipe for disappointment. Perhaps the Democratic Party should have kept a few "Dukakis/McCarthy" posters lying around for a quick refresher course back in 2004, huh?

Side note: in 1988, I dressed up as Michael Dukakis for a Halloween social function at my church. One of the women there berated me/Michael Dukakis for my/Michael Dukakis' stance on aboriton. It was sort of awkward.

I picked up this poster at the 1987 All Star workout -- excuse me, that's the Chevrolet All Star Workout -- when the Midsummer Classic came to Oakland for the first and probably only time. All Star Monday was a more modest affair in those days -- the N.L. took batting practice, there was a skills competition, and then the A.L. took batting practice. There was no TV coverage, no celebrity softball game, and, best of all, no Chris Berman screaming "back, back, back, back" or "he hit that one to Piedmont!" for three hours. Of course, the home run derby featured only four competitors (Mark McGwire and George Bell for the A.L., Andre Dawson and -- inexplicably -- Ozzie Virgil for the senior circuit), so really, Berman would have only had about 20 minutes to shriek and bellow.

Or, about 19 minutes too many, if you want to put it that way.

I'm keeping this one. I just thought I'd show it to you before George Mitchell subpoenas it as part of his ongoing investigation.

Also, I thought you might enjoy hearing Lisa's reaction when I told her my plans to celebrate that faraway time in 1988 when the only athletes we suspected of steroid abuse were disgraced Canadian sprinters. "That poster will look great," she said. "In your office at work."

Subtle as a whisper, that girl.

Ooh, I call dibs on the Cubs stuff. Can I grab it from you at the company picnic next week? :-)

If that's a legitimate offer, sure. Otherwise, it's headed to the local landfill.

Which may be where our company picnic is held.

Of course it's a legitimate offer. Are you forgetting how much Cubs fans like to wallow in their misery? Who doesn't need to be reminded of 1984? The only thing missing from your collection is a more recent poster of Steve Bartman reaching over Moises Alou with smaller pictures of the game falling apart soon after.

In 1984 I was in Jr. High and the Cubs' playoff run -- where of COURSE they were going to the World Series, being up 2-0 and all -- was such a big deal that the whole Jr. High got to go to the school library and watch the Wrigley day games. In fact, one of my most lasting memories of baseball was watching Game 1, during school hours, and seeing Rick Sutcliffe hit a home run. Back then, I didn't think pitchers were *allowed* to hit home runs ;-)

Then that's three Chicago Cubs posters, claimed by my good friend Dan.

The Dukakis and Steve Sax posters are still out there for the taking. Anyone? Hello? Is this thing on?

I'll take the sax poster. he was my favorite player. i have 2 others that are not like this one.

I'm afraid the Steve Sax poster went off to its eternal reward about a week ago. Sorry.

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