I've been trying to write this post for a week. I got a few hundred new Joey Cora cards for my collection and wanted to say something about it, but every time I open up the draft I stare at a blank screen for a while, wonder why words aren't coming out of my fingers, and eventually walk away. I've tried to write about other stuff and it's been the same deal. Minor league recaps, current events, quizzes, birthdays: nothing. It's not just that the words won't come; it's that I genuinely don't care. And before some bitter-better fan goes into the "Look, the Padres disillusioned another fan" routine, let me stress that right now, for whatever reason, I genuinely don't care about anything. The only time I lapse out of indifference is when I turn to annoyance, so that makes me really pleasant to be around.
Wow, I didn't know I was going to say all that. I guess that's why "they" say that when you can't write, write about how you can't write. Maybe this will shake me out of that funk- and hopefully the greater funk that is at the root of it. You know, the whole acknowledging it thing. Or maybe one day I'll just wake up and everything will seem less stupid than it does now. That's how it usually works. As long as I keep living and don't put drugs in any of my face-holes, things work out evench.
Speaking of addictive behavior, that brings me back full-oval to my Joey Cora card collection. As a kid, I collected his cards, but only one of each like a normal human being collects cards. A few years ago I decided to collect as many copies of every one of his cards, and dived in. Since then, I'll get one or two here or there for inactive months in a row, then randomly go on binges, buying up lots of hundreds one after the other. It wasn't until last week that I realized that I started on my supercollection not long after I kicked illicit substances; therefor I've been funneling all of those impulses into Cora cards. Of course, literally anyone other than me could have told you that, but these things take a while to pick up on when it's you in the midst of it.
So while my Cora collection is fairly ridiculous, maybe it isn't as pointless as I thought it was. After all, if I wasn't buying Joey Cora cards when I get the proverbial wild hair, I'd probably be buying something else that comes in small plastic sleeves. But I don't want that. And you don't want that (and Ringo here definitely doesn't want that).
Phew! Now that I just unloaded that couch session on you, here's the breakdown of the 112 cards I got last week picturing Joey as a member of the Padres. The first number is how many I got this time; the parenthetical one is the new total for each card.
1988 Fleer: 4 (6)
1988 Score: 10 (26)
1988 Topps: 11 (57)
1990 Bowman: 4 (12)
1990 Donruss: 12 (23)
1990 Fleer: 28 (38)
1990 Leaf: 2 (11)
1990 Score Young Superstars: 1 (4)
1990 Upper Deck: 7 (14)
1991 Fleer: 6 (12)
1991 Score: 19 (26)
1991 Upper Deck: 8 (25)
There were also a few minor league cards of him, including one that I didn't already have a copy of, but I'll save those for another day. And I'll keep it to baseball when I do. Deal?