Mike Young, 1985 Topps #173

You might think that Mike Young is sending the wrong message by yawning noticeably while taking his lead off of second base, but he's actually playing possum. The catcher thinks he's bored and disinterested and tries to fire a pickoff throw down to the bag to catch the runner unawares, but it's a humid day and the ball slips out of his fingers. Mike's already standing on third base, and now he's laughing.

Sure, Young was a mere 6-for-8 in steals in 1984, but maybe he just knew how and when to pick his spots.

Mike Young, 1988 Topps #11

I made it back from my post-Christmas trip to Charlotte, just like I promised! I'm just in time to mark the fifth anniversary of this silly little blog. On New Year's Day back in 2008, I posted Fred Lynn's card from the 1988 Topps set. Here we are in 2013, and it's now been 25 years since that set was released. Cards that I held in my hand as a child are a quarter-century old. As I try to process that, Mike Young looks up from his resting place behind the batting cage and gives me a sideways glance, as if to say, "Hey, time passes. Deal with it. I hit 28 home runs in 1985. By 1990, I was out of baseball." Mike does not look like the sort of dude I'd want to mess with, so I'll be moving along. Happy New Year, folks.

Mike Young, 1986 Donruss #123

You may notice that I failed to post a card yesterday. Honestly, I'm surprised that I haven't missed more days over the nearly five years that I've been pecking away on this blog. Sometimes, after 1,700-plus entries, I feel like I've written all there is to write about the Orioles, baseball cards, my own mundane life, you name it. My mind and the computer screen are both as blank as the expression on Mike Young's face. So yesterday I took a mulligan. It's November, the hot stove season hasn't even gotten going in full force, I've got one eye on the long holiday weekend upcoming, and it was a blah sort of Monday.

Yeah, excuses, excuses. I'll try not to let this become a habit.

Mike Young, 1988 Score #393

In their inaugural baseball card set, Score really did it right. I think these bright green borders might have been the best of the six colors they used; they really pop, and nothing says baseball like green. Each card back had a full-color headshot and paragraphs full of biographical details about the player, giving you insight that you just didn't get from the other cards out there. And some of these photos are fantastic.

Here we see power-hitting outfielder Mike Young during a road game, most likely on AstroTurf (Toronto? Minnesota?), running the bases. Though he's contorted in sort of an odd and ungraceful position, you still get the impression that he's turning on the afterburners because his batting helmet has been left behind. It's shades of Willie Mays, who reportedly wore his cap one size too big so that it would fly loose while he was on the move and make it look like he was even faster than he actually was. After I read about that, I used to knock my own hat loose when I played kickball at recess in middle school. Considering my lack of coordination, I probably should have paid more attention to the intricacies of the game.

This card is already great because of the sort of midair moment that some of my fellow bloggers appreciate so greatly. But it's made even better because while Mike Young's attention is fixed off-camera and on the next base (and possibly his base coach), his helmet is facing the camera, straight ahead. It's almost as if one of the ghosts of the diamond has inhabited the inanimate piece of equipment and has begun to slide into the upcoming base.

Can you think of any other cards that capture a disembodied batting helmet? How about a regular cap? For some reason, I imagine the latter is more prevalent.