Not everything that happened over the weekend was glorious. I mentioned Monday there was a dealer at thecard show that some readers of this blog may recognize, and I guess I should tell you what went down with him.
After getting autographs from the Naturals, my son and I went to peruse the dealer tables. One table looked especially interesting, with tons of high end autos and relics spread out. In fact, it was basically a dream table of mine, with copious amounts of vintage and high end Texas Rangers and Razorback cards. I was immediately impressed and intrigued and impressed again. I was drooling over the cards when I heard a soft, evil chuckle from behind the table. I looked up and there he was, dressed in black and stroking a white cat:
“Do you like what you see Napkin?” he asked. “You should, because these are all the cards I outbid you on at Cleve’s!”
And with that, he threw his head back and laughed hysterically. I could feel my fists clench, and my heart began to race with rage.
Then my nemesis looked down at my boy. “Perhaps you would like to come hang out with me for a while and see what a real baseball card collection looks like.” Then he looked up at me again and flicked his forked tongue out. “Or maybe I should just show my stuff to your lovely wife?”
I let out a primal scream and dove across the table and plowed into him. I must have looked like Ronnie Lott delivering a bone crushing hit because I heard the crowd at the card show go “Ooohhh!!!”
I began raining blows to his face and blood began to go everywhere. He finally went limp and I eased up. That was my first mistake. He made a quick move, and I felt something sharp go into my side. I couldn’t move due to the sheer pain I was in. He grabbed me and slowly began lowering me to the ground, whispering “Shhh, shhhh, shhhh, shhhh.” Then he removed the 6 inch blade from my side and showed it to me. I could feel my body get cold. I hoped my boy wasn’t watching.
Then my nemesis knelt down and put his face mere inches from mine. “I’ve always wanted to tell you something Napkin,” he said with a sincere look on his face. “ George Will is a hack and will never get an Allen & Ginter card.”
I don’t know how it happened, but suddenly I felt a surge of strength and reached up and grabbed his head with my hands. “Hack this mother f’er!” I said and twisted his head until I heard his neck break. His body collapsed to the ground. I slowly got to my feet and staggered to his table. I looked the cards over again. “These cards belong to me now,” I said and began bagging them up.
Thankfully, due to my incredible healing powers, my wound was not life threatening. The medics were stunned with my strength and mental toughness. The told me my body seemed to defy science. I stayed and answered the questions from the cops as the medics sewed me up. I was thankful to the other folks at the show who verified I acted in self defense.
I watched the paramedics wheel my nemesis out on a stretcher. It was over. He would never outbid me again at Cleve’s. Or would he? As his stretcher rolled past me, I am almost certain that I heard a whisper from under the sheet that covered his body.
A whisper of “Dooooooooooonn”
We’ll meet again Nemesis, we’ll meet again.