Bo Jackson, 1994 Topps

Ya’ know what I’m sick and tired of? Bees. You know who agrees with me? Bo freakin’ Jackson.

I honestly cannot recall a situation where a bee showed up and made things better. What’s their deal, anyway? The main reason I don’t like bees is because—and I don’t want to get too much into science here—they can sting you. And they will! For no reason. Sometimes I will discover a bee in my car and my natural instinct is to react as if I am on fire and my main priority becomes getting the bee out of the car rather than paying attention to what else is happening on the road. I am more fearful of getting pinched with a miniscule stinger than getting into a multi-car accident.

Is my reaction to bees embarrassing? No. Ya’ know why? Because Bo Jackson reacts the same way:



On 9-26-93,

Write that date down. It will be important should anyone ever ask if you remember the exact day that Bo Jackson got attacked by a bee.

Bo was chased from the batter’s box to the dugout by a bee.

Bo Jackson played 12 professional sports and could bench-press a tank while eating a sandwich made of glass. Yet even he was not immune to the clear and present danger of bees. I mean really, a grown man trying to do his job getting harassed by a stupid little bee … IS THERE NO END TO THEIR WRATH?! If only someone had the guts and wherewithal to show those bees—or at least a bee—that we’re not gonna stand for this abuse!

He stepped back in and stung a pitch for a home run.

Ha! Score one for the good guys (humans)! Nothing shuts a bee up quicker than a home run. That stupid bee thought he could distract Bo Jackson? Pfft. After getting chased back to the dugout like a ninny and not coming back until he was certain the bee was gone, Bo Jackson was like, “Alright, enough. Let’s play some baseball.” Also, not sure if you caught this, but he didn’t just hit the pitch—he stung it. See, Bo turned things around and did what the bee could have done to him to a baseball, in a figuratively descriptive sense, because you can’t really sting a ball with a wooden bat. But still!

It’s never been confirmed, but I like to believe that the pitcher that day, Kenny Rogers, set aside the politics of baseball for a moment, recognized the statement that needed to be made to bees all over the world, and just grooved one right in there. That, or he was just pitching like Kenny Rogers.

Also, needless to say, this assault on bees obviously excludes the loyal bumblebees who work in baseball. There are some good ones out there.

I've never seen anyone look so depressed about leaving the Kansas City Royals. Poor Melancholy Bo, sittin there in his Ray-Bans and gripping what is either a towel that he chews between innings like Jerry Tarkanian or a screenplay to his life story.

I definitely see this image as the first frame of a low-key, woe-is-me musical montage in Bo Knows: The Bo Jackson Story where Bo breaks into a heartfelt, smooth-as-velvet rendition of "My Funny Valentine." The montage would show him in the dugout, in post-game interview in the locker room, staring off into space while dining alone after hours at a swank restaurant (with all the waiters lined up behind him, just like in The Godfather), and sitting by a window in a smoking jacket with a glass of wine on a rain-soaked night.

At the end of the montage, he'd probably be out walking his lovable Jack Russell terrier when he bumps into Robin Givens or Vivica Fox and his life is changed forever. And of course before the movie ends there's a scene where he's sitting on his bed in his basement apartment, practicing scales on his trumpet in his tried-and-true wife beater and bathrobe, cane resting beside him.

Like most kids my age, my admiration for Bo Jackson was legendary. I mean, this guy could do it all. And then all of a sudden he was just another player. And then, not too long after that, he was retired, shaken up by bad knees. I want there to be a made-for-TV movie done about his life, replete with the requisite son or grandson-on-knee not stealing/not having sex/not fighting/good grades/visitation rights speech that starts "You think you know?" and ends with (of course) "Bo's been there. Bo knows."

I'm thinking we could get Jamie Foxx to play Bo, and if he doesn't want to stoop to the small screen, then I guess we could settle for 50 Cent. Get Rich or Die Tryin' didn't fare so well, and going up against Kanye West didn't really pan out, either. Doing a cut-rate Bo Jackson biopic might just net him the international fame he's always dreamt of winning.

This trade comes in from Mike in Bethel, Connecticut.

Giving: Albert Pujols, #6; Francisco Liriano, #167 (red back)
Getting: Bo Jackson, 1991 Topps Traded; David Ortiz, 1999 Upper Deck MVP; Kirby Puckett, 2002 UD World Series Heroes; Cool Papa Bell, 2001 UD Cooperstown Collection; Latin Stars, 1993 Upper Deck

I'm calling this trade 'Latin Stars and Shades of Bo.'

First I want to focus on the Latin Stars combo card from the vastly underrated 1993 Upper Deck set. The copy on the back is all about the massive amounts of home runs each hit in 1992, and how they'd keep poundin them out forever. What's also of note is that Pudge, Juan Gone and Raffy all look like relatively normal big leaguers, while Canseco looks like a wall of bulk. ... and two quick notes on Canseco: First a theoretical question. Let's say Canseco played out his days without taking steroids. Would he still have been remembered as the more productive identical Canseco twin? Second, do you think the roids did anything to Jose's hair? Seriously, how come his hairstyle never seemed to change over his entire career? Also, can we re-name the sports flat-top/mullet 'The Canseco'? Or has Jaromir Jagr already laid claim?... what was I saying? Oh yeah, the mid-Nineties Rangers. I guess there's not much more to add.

There's plenty to say about this card of Bo Jackson. So much, in fact, that I'm going to give it its own post as the Fantastic Card of the Day.

This trade comes in from Zach from Kokomo, Indiana.

Giving: Grady Sizemore, #43 (red back)
Getting: Bo Breaker, 1991 Score

I hope Zach and Brandon (Trade-away #12) are friends. I remember one of the best parts of collecting as a kid was that my friend Michael collected, too. I got some of my best cards from trades with him (1979 Topps Alan Trammell, I'm thinking of you), and as we got older, and our collecting obsessions took different roots, it was he who turned me from a price guide-oriented collector into someone who truly appreciated the cards for what they were, not the riches they promised.

So here's to The Card Collecting Buddy, the one who'll try to out-gun you for a card at a show, but marvel with you at that one out of both of your grasps.

By the way, thanks for the Bo Breaker card. 1991 Score is one of my favorite sets, the very epitome of the over-stuffed early Nineties. I think that set had 10,000 cards in it, right?


The Trade-away is in full swing, but it's not too late to get in on the fun! Email me if you're interested in participating.