Word salad.
At their best, baseball cards are art. The 1965 Topps set is absolutely a work of art.
Earlier tonight, the Braves pulled a double-switch to sub in a pair of former Orioles. Kelly Johnson replaced Chris Johnson at third base, and Jim Johnson came in from the bullpen to relieve Luis Avilan. It may have been the first triple-Johnson double-switch in major league history, but it was all for naught. Jim Johnson took the loss in a 1-0 walkoff job by the Phillies. Freddie Galvis singled, was bunted to second, took third on a passed ball, and scored on a Freddie Freeman error.
When temperatures are dropping into the thirties overnight in late April, I shouldn't still be having seasonal allergy attacks. That's just piling on.
Even though they're called baseball cards, there are fewer cards that prominently feature baseballs than you might think. I've done absolutely no research to back this up.
That baseball wishes it were as sparkling white as Bob Johnson's pearly chompers. Why didn't I just call them teeth?
I keep getting carded when I buy beer at Camden Yards, even though gray hairs are starting to creep into my beard. I wonder if the vendors will stop bothering as the season progresses.
I still have two types of anxiety dreams on a regular basis. It's either the first day of high school or college and I have no idea where and when my classes are. If it's not that, I'm performing in a play and I (and/or my costars) don't know the lines or the blocking (where to move and when), and maybe costumes are missing as well. I've been out of high school for 15 years, and out of college for 11. I haven't acted in a full-length play for five years.
Five straight losses for the Orioles, which never happened in 2014. April of 2015 has been one of my least favorite months in recent memory, on both a personal and a baseball-fan basis.
