There was nothing more important to me as a kid than baseball cards.
My dad used to bribe me with packs of cards and he’d get me to do anything for them. It was like kid crack for me, even more so than Legos, I was a hardcore fiend for baseball cards.
If the trash needed to be taken out, car needed a washing, better grades in school, whatever it was, as long as baseball cards were involved, I was in.
My dad went through the tragedy of having his card collection tossed in the trash after he moved out of his parents’ house to college. He had three of the most priceless cards, rookie cards of legends Mickey Mantle (his favorite player), Willie Mays ( the most complete outfielder of all-time) and Henry Aaron (still the home run king in my book) which he could retire on if they weren’t in some landfill now.
My life would be totally different if my dad still had this and all of his other baseball cards.
Since he lost his collection, he started one for my brother and me since we were born.
We had thousands of cards stashed everywhere in the house. There were three different binders, one for our legendary cards, one for cards with potential to move up to the other binder and one filled with decent cards that we’d try and trade with the suckers at school.
The rest were separated and stashed in various shoeboxes in our closets. We had a box filled with the goofiest looking guys or ones with funny names. Another box with just crappy players that we’d stick in the spokes of our bike to make them sound like motorcycles.
These weren’t just pictures of random guys on cardboard, this was a lifestyle.
I was such a nerd that I organized my cards in alphabetical order for quicker navigation. Every year would call for a readjustment of which players belonged in which binder. Every spring before the new season started, I had a huge debate with myself about who should be promoted or demoted to specific binders.
Somehow, it took 17 years for someone to come along and pry my virginity away from me, not sure what took so long.
Anyway, over the years we came across some pretty sweet cards that hopefully will be worth a ton of money someday. We have a Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds (the douche brothers) rookie cards along with Mike Piazza, Chipper Jones and Derek Jeter rookies.
But one card stood out among all the others. My favorite card ever has nothing but sentimental value. It’s made me laugh for over 20 years.
Billy Ripken was a crappy second baseman for the Baltimore Orioles and is famous for only two things: being Cal’s little brother and being a f$%#face.
Thanks Billy Ripken for the years of laughter you've brought me and a generation of baseball fans.
Upon the release of Fleer’s 1989 set of cards, baseball fans immediately were scrambling to get their hands on the card. My dad gave us a pack and when my brother was flipping though the cards, he showed it to my dad and both of them started laughing.
I was five-years-old, so I had to wait until my brother explained it to me before realizing how awesome this card was.
Every time Ripken came to bat that season, someone in our family would make a f#$%face joke about him, a tradition that continues to this day when the Orioles are on tv. There is nothing more remarkable about being a child than having a green light to say “f#$%face” with no repercussions.
Fleer released another set of cards trying to correct the mistake.Which was pretty lame and I don't approve.
One of the first things my dad does when we see each other is bust the card out and immediately we both start laughing and make fun of the Orioles for a half hour and continue with our routine.
Next time you’re watching the Orioles, which you really shouldn’t be doing they’re absolutely terrible, you can actually make the game exciting by yelling “Bring in the f#$%face!” You’ll get a ton of laughs every time, as long as people know what you’re talking about.
When I was talking about writing this story with my friends, most of them were unaware of this gem of a baseball card. I say you’re a chump if you didn’t know about this and your childhood was easily 6.2% lamer than mine. When you’re a kid, it’s your duty to find obscene baseball cards.
A few years ago I found one of the cards on eBay and stashed it in my wallet for good luck. Anytime you’re bored, just bust out the Billy Ripken card and any troubles you have go away. Best $2.10 I’ve ever spent.
For years Ripken wouldn’t talk about the incident but finally decided to do a story with CNBC.com last December about the legendary card.
Apparently I’m not the only one that thinks this is the greatest baseball card of all-time. BillyRipken.com was created just as a celebration of the card and has over 36,000 visitors just because of it.
What other baseball card can you name that has an entire website dedicated to it?
Just type the name Billy Ripken in to Google and the immediate suggestion, without even typing it is Billy Ripken baseball card.
No one cares about the younger Ripken, he was a career .247 hitter with 20 career home runs and only had 150 at bats in a season once. But he will never fade into obscurity because of two words written on the knob of a bat.
What lives on is his tremendous baseball card.
Collecting baseball cards is easily the coolest thing you can do as a kid. When I go home, I always rummage through the shoe boxes and discover gems like these:
Hey, I bet you still don’t laugh at the lame jokes from Ghostbusters or still play with your He-Man action figures, but the Billy Ripen F#$%face card will always make me laugh.
And that is a legendary childhood memory my friends.
