Hoyt Wilhelm, 2003 Donruss Team Heroes #66

When I was 17, I got a tattoo. It was the Pearl Jam "Stickman" insignia, and I got it inked on my lower back. Chalk it up to the impulsiveness of youth, I guess. I managed to keep it from my parents for several months, but eventually the truth came out and I had to do a little squirming. I remember futilely trying to convince my mother that it was a one-time urge that was out of my system; she insisted that nobody gets just one tattoo.

My younger sister got that tattoo urge, but waited until she was 20 and had worn down my parents to the point that they offered grudging consent. She never tired of reminding them that she had waited until she was of legal age, unlike me. Also unlike me, she didn't stop with just one. She's gotten nine different surfaces on her body inked with various insects: butterflies, a ladybug, a spider, ants, cicadas, you name it. But now it seems that she's gotten bored with bugs and moved on to birds. Last weekend, my sister had logos from two of her favorite sports teams emblazoned on her ankle: the Capitals and the Orioles. I particularly like the Oriole bird that she chose, this crazed-looking character that the club used as a secondary logo from 1965-1967.

She also intends to get the Ravens' "B/R" crest permanently inscribed on her leg, but hasn't decided exactly where to place it yet. It's worth noting that the O's are 2-0 since she added The Bird on Saturday, and at the moment they're leading the Red Sox 5-0 in the middle innings. I'm starting to wonder why she didn't do this sooner!