Sam Horn, 1991 Upper Deck #530

As I mentioned last night, Twins refugee Chris Parmelee had one hell of an Orioles debut, collecting a pair of singles and a pair of home runs in his first four at-bats. In 61-plus years in Baltimore, only one other player hit two round-trippers in his first game for the team: the one and only Sam Horn. On April 9, 1990 - Opening Day - the former Red Sox prospect went 4-for-5 with a pair of three-run homers, nearly single-handedly carrying the O's past the Royals in a 7-6 win. Sam had a nice little three-year stay in Charm City, batting .240/.328/.468 (122 OPS+) with 42 home runs and 125 RBI in 827 plate appearances. I wouldn't bet on Parmelee to stick around that long, but Dan Duquette has found useful players in unlikely places before.

P. S. : No posts from me for the rest of the week. See y'all Monday.

Jeff Robinson, 1991 Upper Deck #796

I'd like to give the devil his due and thank Upper Deck for including Jeff Robinson's middle initial on this card. As someone who meticulously catalogs every card in his collection in an obnoxiously large Excel file, I'm always annoyed when I have to tab over to Baseball Reference to find middle names to distinguish between the righthanded Jeff Robinsons of the junk wax era. Yes, that's a very particular first-world problem, but with Upper Deck's help, maybe I'll finally remember that it was Jeffrey Mark Robinson who pitched for the Tigers and Orioles. Meanwhile, Jeffrey Daniel Robinson toiled for the Giants, Pirates, and three other teams. I don't have this problem with the Greg Harrises, you know.

Curt Schilling, 1991 Upper Deck #528

Curt Schilling is one of just 11 players in major league history to be born in Alaska - Anchorage, to be specific. This strikes me as relevant, because my better half has convinced me to join her in this year's Maryland State Police Polar Bear Plunge. The Plunge takes place on Saturday, January 25, with scores of goobers like myself jumping into the almost-certainly frigid Chesapeake Bay to raise money for the Special Olympics. This is the 18th consecutive year for the Plunge, and it's the first time that I'll be doing it. If you would like to help ensure that my foolhardiness is not in vain, I am collecting donations over the next two weeks. Five dollars would be a big help...hell, I wouldn't turn down a buck. You can practice your philanthropy here. Thank you kindly!

Steve Finley, 1991 Upper Deck #330

I'm sure you've heard today's controversial news by now. Steve Finley was not elected to the Hall of Fame. In fact, he garnered just four votes, and will not even be eligible for future ballots.

Oh, and Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Mike Piazza, Jeff Bagwell, Tim Raines, Craig Biggio, Edgar Martinez, Alan Trammell, and Mark McGwire were also left out in the cold. For the first time since 1996, the Baseball Writers' Association of America failed to elect a single player. But they succeeded in commanding a lot of attention for themselves and ensuring the future irrelevance of the Baseball Hall of Fame. It's probably just as well. It's a pain in the ass to get to Cooperstown anyway.

Jeff Ballard, 1991 Upper Deck #260

As I do from time to time, I am about to put way too much thought into a goofy baseball card:

-Jeff Ballard is wearing those fake stirrup socks. I hate those. Either go all the way with it or don't.

-Judging from the dirt and grass stains on his knees, whoever he's catching is a bit wild. My guess is Jose Mesa (5.2 K/9 IP in 1990).

-Last week, offensively-offensive backup infielder Cesar Izturis strapped on the tools of ignorance and caught Chris Tillman's bullpen session. This led to the revelation that Izzy is the current emergency catcher. That would have to be one hell of an emergency. I love those dumb little tidbits. Recent emergency catchers for the O's have included the likes of Ty Wigginton and Kevin Millar, who certainly fit the profile moreso than Cesar. I wonder what kind of emergency it would have taken for Jeff Ballard to suit up behind the plate.

-I can't even remember a time when baseball caps didn't have the ubiquitous MLB batter logo on the back of them.

-In the early 1990s, the crustier baseball types used to grouse about Ken Griffey, Jr. wearing his cap backwards during batting practice. It was disrespectful, apparently. Seems kind of quaint when you think about Prince Fielder and countless others untucking their jerseys as soon as the game ends.

Glenn Davis, 1991 Upper Deck #757

The next time you wonder how long the fine sports fans of Baltimore can carry a grudge, consider this: I have a friend who is a fellow card collector. He's been a diehard Orioles fan longer than I've been alive. Although it's been almost 20 years since the ill-fated trade that brought Glenn Davis to Charm City in exchange for three players (Steve Finley, Pete Harnisch, and Curt Schilling) who would go on to play for another 45 combined seasons in the major leagues, this friend throws away and/or destroys any Davis card that comes into his possession. The card you see above is the one and only exception to that rule. He spares this card only because it also features former O's manager and coach Cal Ripken, Sr., who does not deserve the indignity of the scrap heap. I can't argue with his logic, even if I have trouble throwing out any cards myself.

Dave Johnson, 1991 Upper Deck #299

Alright, time's running short tonight and I wore myself out throwing together the Jimmy Piersall post for my 1965 Topps blog, so we're doing a little show and tell here. This is the third of four autographs that I got at Oriole Park at Camden Yards two weeks ago. You should recognize Dave Johnson (even if the signature seems to read "J Jegs"), who got a lot of mileage out of his 21 career wins for his hometown team and has found a second career as a radio and TV analyst for the O's who wears his heart on his sleeve. He is also hoping to be part of the second-ever father-son duo to pitch for the Orioles (the John O'Donoghues came first), if his son Steven can continue to climb the organizational ladder. Thanks for the ink, Dave!

Bob Milacki, 1991 Upper Deck #328

Okay, I'm short on words tonight, but I can tell you that there won't be any more football talk around here for a while. It's been a great and surprising season for the Ravens, and the future looks even brighter. Speaking of the future...pitchers and catchers report on February 14.

Mike Mussina, 1991 Upper Deck #65

This card depicts Mike Mussina a lifetime ago, as a 21-year-old pitcher for the Single-A Hagerstown Suns in his first season of professional baseball. Even though he'd just been drafted 20th overall in the 1990 draft, the weight of the Orioles' expectations didn't seem to be weighing too heavily on him. He looks like a pretty cool customer. Indeed, he would make his major league debut just one year later, completing two of his twelve starts with an impressive 2.87 ERA for the O's.

That young, confident "Moose" was nowhere to be found last night, as the now-39-year-old Yankee had an absolute meltdown. He looked a lot like the Mike Mussina who left Baltimore after the 2000 season, the ace pitcher who was suddenly getting roughed up for 5, 6, 7 runs once every few weeks and sullenly and subtly placing the blame on others. He had a rocky start to the game against his former team, but when Luke Scott hit a grounder at Derek Jeter with two on and two out, it looked like he'd escape with only one run allowed. But with Robinson Cano slow to cover second base, Jeter lost his focus and threw high to Jason Giambi at first. Mussina lost his focus after that error, allowing six more runs. The killing blow was an 0-2, bases-clearing double by rookie Adam Jones. Mike was pulled without getting that third out, tying a career mark for his shortest appearance. The O's went on to win 12-2, a game that I enjoyed right through the last out.

I thought recently that I had finally overcome my bitterness toward Mussina for bailing on the Birds and joining the Dark Side for George Steinbrenner's big bucks. After all, he moved a little closer to his Pennsylvania home, he was apparently sweet-talked by the very popular Joe Torre, and the Orioles were backsliding both on the field and in their front office dealings. But his implosion last night instilled a great sense of schadenfreude within me, and I realized something: as long as #35 is wearing those pinstripes, I'll always root against him. He's the enemy, pure and simple.