Monday, October 20, 2008
My earliest memories of baseball were Mets-Padres games in San Diego's Jack Murphy Stadium. A lot has changed since those days; Qualcomm has since taken over as the name of the stadium which no longer even houses the Padres - they've moved to Petco Park in downtown San Diego.
Growing up in a family of Yankees fans, I suppose the Mets were the next best thing to come to southern California. This was long before the days of interleague play.
And besides, I loved Darryl Strawberry.
I don't know how it started. I don't know if it was his name that caught my four year old attention, or perhaps it was his height. Some how, some way, I singled him out as my favorite player. The collection began.
To this day, the collection has become quite large. Thousands of cards have been purchased, replica t-shirts folded in drawers, autographs carefully protected. The space my collection inhabits at the bottom of my closet can no longer contain its glory; it's time for a blog.
I've met Darryl a handful of times, and he seems to be a genuinely nice person. Troubled? Maybe, though not necessarily a bad person. He's made his mistakes and has certainly paid dearly for them. I do not intend to apologize on his behalf. But my collection is what it is; massive.
Over the life of this site I'll share my collection, piece by piece. I'll tell stories. I'll kill lots of time, both mine and yours.