I can't believe I've featured almost 150 cards on this blog and it took me this long to get to Eddie Murray. Considering the well-documented truth that #33 is just plain badass, I actually fear for my safety should the Hall of Famer ever learn that I turned my focus to the likes of Rocky Coppinger and Jack Voigt before I gave him his due. Eddie could disassemble my vital organs with nothing more than a five-second stare. So this will be our little secret.
I'm not sure why I haven't had anything to say about Murray before now. Even the fact that I chose him today has mostly to do with a sense of "Holy crap, I still haven't done Eddie". It might have something to do with my late blooming as an O's fan. By the time I started rooting for the black and orange, he was two teams and five years removed from Baltimore, wearing Mets pinstripes. Sure, he'd return to Charm City during the 1996 pennant chase in time for his 500th home run, but I never got to see Eddie Murray in his prime, as the driving force of the Birds' offense and one of the most feared hitters in the league.
Just looking at this card gives me a sense of the Eddie Murray of old, though. Lean, athletic build, intense stare, and of course the awe-inspiring afro/blade sideburns/mustache combo. He's striding forward, bat starting to uncoil, prepared to blast the ball into the stratosphere. It looks like he's wearing road grays, but you can bet that back in Baltimore, the fans are tuned into WBAL listening for the crack of the bat. They jump out of their chairs, pump their fists in their cars, and their voices join as one...
"ED-DIE! ED-DIE! ED-DIE!"