Cal Ripken, Jr., 1995 Collector's Choice #85

One of the most impressive things about Cal Ripken, Jr.'s record-breaking consecutive games played streak was how he managed to avoid any serious injuries despite being routinely stalked by a rabid Ben McDonald.

Brooks Robinson, 1993 Action Packed All-Stars #120

Today is Brooks Robinson's 76th birthday, but everything else about this day made me feel like baseball is a cruel, pointless, stupid game. Yes, I was at Camden Yards for Jim Johnson and Darren O'Day's six-run ninth-inning meltdown; why do you ask?

Vintage Fridays: Willie Kirkland, 1964 Topps #17

Willie Kirkland looks dubious. He knows that he's got the Indians' wishbone "C" and Chief Wahoo (sigh) on his cap, and he's gazing up at the blue block letters that spell out "Orioles" at the top of the card and wondering what gives. Here's what gives, Willie: Cleveland traded you to the O's for Al Smith and $25,000 in December of 1963. But don't get comfortable just yet. You'll only be in Baltimore until August 12, when the Birds sell your contract to the Senators. Your final stat line as an Oriole: .200/.281/.293 in 66 games, with three homers and 22 RBI. I guess Charm City just wasn't your kinda place.

Ivanon Coffie, 2001 Upper Deck #14

Ivanon Coffie turns 36 today. He was born in Curacao, his surname is pronounced like the caffeinated beverage, and his major league career totaled 23 games in the summer of 2000, when he hit .217/.284/.317 with no home runs and six RBI for the Orioles. Now we all know four things about Ivanon Coffie. Here's one more: he and 1950s pinch-hitting specialist Dave Philley are the only two O's to share a birthday with my maternal grandmother, who would have been 84 today.

My Gram, who went by the nickname "Boots" from a very young age, left us nearly seven years ago. Time keeps moving along, always forward, and I still can't believe that we've been without her for so long. I keep her close to me in my heart and in my mind, and there are little reminders of her scattered throughout my home. A 2001 portrait photograph of her, smiling brightly, sits in my living room. An older photograph, this one from Christmas 1986, rests on my dresser in the bedroom. I asked for a few keepsakes when the family combed through her personal effects, and these are still with me as well: a few beer glasses (one rose-tinted and engraved with the name "BOOTS", the other a mug bearing the logo of her old reliable Natural Light), a tin Schaefer beer serving tray that I've hung on the kitchen wall, the well-worn Scrabble board and deck of Phase 10 cards that we used to pass the hours on many a weekend or summer day, and of course the Super Nintendo that she herself bought about 20 years back. That last item was the first modern video game console in our house, and it still works...though I need to solder the A/V cable.

But those are just things. What matters to me most are the things that I remember, things that I feel the need to share with you and to put into written word on the chance that those memories ever fade. There was her near-inscrutable Baltimore accent, a Highlandtown dialect that turned "dial" into "doll", "oil" into "ool", and most amusingly, "sink" into "zink". She had a love for any and all games: scratch-off lottery tickets, card games (scat and Skip-Bo were some favorites), Bingo, board games, TV guide crosswords, pinball and casino video games...you name it. But she was fiercely competitive; if you got the upper hand against her, she'd snap about how you "had a horseshoe up your ass" or that you were "unconscious". It was all in good fun, though. Boots loved strawberry shortcake and ice cream with pretzels for dipping. Every St. Patrick's Day she would raise a glass of dyed-green beer in a nod to the Irish portion of her heritage. Still, I'm not getting to the heart of it.

Most of all, my Gram was full of love. She loved her brothers and sisters, her cousins, her children, and most of all, her grandchildren. When my sister and I were growing up, she was our usual babysitter, and she even lived on the bottom floor of our house for 17 years. She helped us learn to read by reading to us. She would sometimes wake us by singing the first few notes of "Good Morning!", from Singin' in the Rain. We'd watch The Price Is Right, maybe play a game of Pay Day or Aggravation. She'd whip up an omelet for breakfast or maybe just Rice Krispies with a heaping helping of sugar (to Mom's dismay), and grilled cheese for lunch. Whether my parents were home or not, Gram was always right downstairs, and she always had time for me and my sister. When the family went on vacation to our cottage in Northeastern Pennsylvania or to Ocean City, she came along, sharing the back seat with the kids and playing the license plate game or the alphabet game to help pass the tedious hours in the car. She was such a large and active part of our lives.

I miss her.

Ramon Hernandez, 2006 Upper Deck #380

The Orioles finally suffer their first series sweep of the year thanks to a listless drubbing at the hands of the punchless and largely anonymous Padres. Gross. Two-game series bookended by days off...interleague play...12:35 getaway games after night games...if you ask me, Bud Selig is to blame for this mini-skid.

Okay, I'm only half-serious. But the past 18 hours of baseball made me grumpy, and I figure that nobody ever made enemies by bashing Mr. Commish-for-Life.

Jeff Tackett, 1993 Topps #6

For a backup catcher with a career batting line of .217/.300/.336 and 136 total games played, Jeff Tackett had some truly righteous cards. This 1993 Topps card, which holds a position of honor on the first binder page of the set (nestled snugly next to Tony Gwynn, no less), was my first exposure to Chris Hoiles' water carrier. Jeff gets the unique designation of being the first Oriole featured in the first card set that I collected as a kid, which was somehow 20 years ago. As vivid a story as this photo tells, with the catcher taking a moment to sullenly contemplate what seems to be a run-scoring play at the plate, it's not even the most visually compelling of his cards. You can see an art gallery's worth of Tackett action shots and portraits in my archives.

This card serves as a not-so-sneaky segue to the official launch of my 1993 Topps set blog. I've been kicking the idea around for months, but I wasn't about to toss another chainsaw into the fire until I'd wrapped up my 1965 Topps blog, which I finally got around to doing last weekend. I'm really excited to jump into this, since the set and its players hold a personal nostalgia for me that the truly vintage sets don't. There will be pithy remarks, a few less-known facts about each player, recollections of my childhood, historical and pop culture facts from '93, and a bit of wit and wisdom borrowed from Bill James. Be sure to bookmark the blog now, share it with the people you love, and get to reading! I've already posted an introduction of sorts, as well as the first card of the set. One down, 824 to go!

...Of course, there were six extra players who appeared only in the Gold parallel set, replacing the checklist cards. So that's 830 to go. Oh, and I can't forget the 132-card Traded set. So that takes us to 962 posts left to write. I wonder if I should do the 44 BlackGold inserts....

What have I started?

Cal Ripken, Jr., 1999 Topps Record Numbers #RN9

I knew that Cal Ripken was durable, but I didn't even remember him continuing to play third base in the midst of an on-field pyrotechnic explosion. It was pretty irresponsible of the Orioles to schedule their Friday night fireworks display for 8:00 PM. Live and learn, I guess.