=8=

I've got to say, it kind of surprises me that I'm feeling it somewhat necessary to post about this, but as I was reading my Royals blogs this morning, I saw an article on– and a great photo of– Frank Thomas and his retirement.  Honestly, I feel like just seeing his huge body (what a head!) and remembering marveling at it on so many baseball cards back in the early 90s sent me spinning back to my youth– if I can call it that, now nearly 29 years old.

One special moment I remember well with the Big Hurt (truly, this was a fine nickname; now we're stuck with obvi-boners like A-Rod), or more specifically, with his high gloss '92 Fleer Ultra likeness, was while visiting my Uncle Ryan (that's Unkie Ry/Wy or just "Unk" if you know the man) in Newport, Rhode Island.  Back in those days, when we'd go on a family vacation, my dear mother would always get dragged along to any number of majestic and foreign card shops– it was always one of the most anticipated moments of any vacation for me, and remember that this was well before internet availability of any card you could think of on sites like eBay was possible– in search of Bo Jacksons, Kirby Pucketts or Barry Bondses that were missing from my binders filled with hundreds of these fellas, carefully slotted into Ultra Pro sleeves.  We'd always joke that we'd find her a recipe card shop to make up for all the time we spent in and hunting for these spots, as if such a thing existed, and even if it had, as if she'd have any interest in spending hours pouring over the giant-sized glass display cases sure to be inside.

At this particular card shop on this particular day, and I remember there was a Spider-Man on the sign at this spot (we statistics-loving card collectors often had to coexist with the cartoon drama-loving folks who loved to read, of all things), I don't recall walking out with any of the AP Big 3 (see above) that had been long missing from my collection, but I did buy a pack of '92 Fleer Ultra in which I pulled this baddie out, then valued at $20.00 on the nose (isn't it funny how card values always came in multiples of 25 cents?):

 

Looks like Frank popped out in this one. Still, $20 to an 11-year old...

I remember being out in the street, walking to that non-existent recipe card shop, for all I cared, feeling on top of the world.  Though it isn't even a particularly handsome card– I do still really like the marble effect on cardboard, plus the little hand-scrawled-looking "'92" at the top left and, now that I see it again, the fact that part of Frank himself– his left foot– stepped outside of the borders of the card, making him that much closer to this kid on vacation in Rhode Island– it was undoubtedly the most valuable card I'd ever gotten in a pack.  Perhaps the best part is, if I were at my parents' house up in my old closet, I bet you I could dig that card out, still in a hardcase and a probably an inner sleeve as well– as was the rage for us overindulgent, non-savage card collectors back then– in under half an hour.  The other best part would have to be that it's probably not worth $2.00 anymore (anybody have a current Beckett/online subscription [how novel that would've been back then!] they could use to check it out for me?  If so, I might have a few other cards to check as well, just not my '87 Fleer Bo rookie card I paid the book $18.00-$20.00 for :\).

Anyway, I could probably go on for hours still, remembering all of this stuff and connecting the dots to my friends and compadres in card-collecting, my silly dreams and haunts of those days, but I'll just say thanks, Frank, for the memories.  You were a giant-sized stud for a lot of years to this kid, even at your more modest 3-1/2" by 5-1/2"-size.

 

 Big Frank: never my favorite, but a player 

I'll always revere as long as I've got some kid left in me.

Here's to the start of Spring Training (some Royals players have already reported!) and to my dad, alongside whom I've always loved all things baseball and who sings a mean "El Paso"– even at long, long distance :').