House of Cards

House of Cards

I grew up a sports fan. Mostly Dolphins but basically all teams from Miami. That sports enthusiasm naturally evolved into a desire to collect trading cards.

So as I continue to prepare to sell my house, I’m caught going through boxes of old trading cards. More specifically, Miami Dolphins and Dan Marino trading cards. Quite frankly, I had forgotten I had so many cards. As for Marino, I have 125 of his trading cards (give or take), and this includes his 1984 Topps rookie card.

Before you go raising an eyebrow at that number, please understand Dan Marino used to be my hero. Also, it could be worse. I could be this guy.

I used to think the collecting of these cards would someday pay for my kids’ college or allow me to buy a Corvette. As it turns out, they are more a burden than anything else. Don’t get me wrong, if you have the time and working capital to really ‘deal’ in trading cards, there is money to be made. A friend of mine told me of a fourteen-year-old kid he knows who made $18k last year by dealing in trading cards. It’s not unlike day-traders and those who dabble in penny stocks. If you have the time and know-how, you can make bank. But the key commodity is time.

I went online, purchased a subscription to Beckett (the leader in trading card valuation), and set out with the intention of cataloging just my Marino cards. I thought two or three hours would be about right for me to inventory my 125 cards.

Ummmmm …. no.

Because of the variances in manufacturers of cards and special sub-sets, and the detailed minutia that makes a difference in identifying the right card, I found I was spending about four to five minutes PER card. Extrapolate that out and that’s about 500 minutes (or eight hours). Given all that still needs to be done in the house to get it ready for sale, I really cannot invest eight hours on football cards!

I am not sure what I am going to do. Maybe I’ll find someone who is willing to take my complete collection off my hands for a fair price. Maybe I’ll end up donating my cards to someone’s kid. Who knows? Yet, this is another example of the recurring theme of the last thirty days: don’t get bogged down with stuff. It’s so much better to collect memories than it is little pieces of cardboard with pictures of athletes on them.

It’s in the Cards

Destiny is a mysterious thing. In sports, it’s often used to explain the unexplainable.

On August 31, with a month left to go in the Major League Baseball regular season, the St. Louis Cardinals trailed the Milwaukee Brewers in their division by 8.5 games. In the ever important race for the lone National League Wild Card spot, they, too, trailed the Atlanta Braves by 8.5 games.

By September 15, the Wild Card lead for the Braves was down to only 4.5 games. By September 27, the second to last day of the season, the Cardinals found themselves tied with Braves in the standings. With one game left for each team, it was “win or go home” time for both squads.

Destiny has a flare for the dramatic, but it was the Cardinals who took care of their opponent the evening of September 28, the Houston Astros, in clinical fashion. There was nothing dramatic about their 8-0 win over the hapless ‘Stros. They did their job, the way a team that closed out the season winning seven out of ten games should do.

The Braves, on the other hand, found themselves with their season on the line in an extra-innings battle against a Philadelphia team that had already secured both the best record in the National League as well as a spot in the MLB post-season. It seems Destiny was indeed involved, as the Braves lost in 13 innings to the Phillies and missed the playoffs.

Had the Phillies had the gift of clairvoyance and could see that just nine short days later, they’d see their season come to an end at the hands of the Cardinals, I wonder if they would have changed the outcome of that  game against Atlanta. (To be clear, had both Atlanta and St. Louis finished the season tied, they both would have faced each other in a one game playoff, with the winner advancing to the post-season as the Wild card champion.)

The St. Louis Cardinals overcame a double-digit deficit in the standings to qualify for the playoffs. They tore through the post-season by dispatching the best and second best teams in the National League. They faced elimination not once but twice in the same game of the World Series, both times trailing by two runs and down not only to their last out, but to their last strike. In both instances they prevailed, tying the game, extending their season, and perpetuating the idea that Destiny was on their side.

Still, it’s hard to believe that a team lead by a manager with a career .536 winning percentage (.543 in the playoffs), five previous pennants, and two previous World Series titles could be considered a team of Destiny. It’s hard to perceive a franchise that trails only the mighty New York Yankees in World Series victories to have been celestially chosen by the baseball gods to win one more.

Yet there they were, providing a spectacle in sports unlike anyone else had ever seen before. From written off in September to undoubtedly written about ad nasueum these next few days in October, the Cardinals made the 2011 post-season theirs and theirs alone.

If you still question the Destiny aspect when it comes to this team, consider this. If this exact same season – same players on each team, same results for each game – were to be played in the upcoming 2012 season, the Cardinals most likely do not even make the playoffs. Why? Because in 2012 the Florida Marlins move into their new stadium in Little Havana. It’s a baseball-only stadium, designed around a complete baseball experience. This is unlike the previous home of the Marlins, Sun Life Stadium, which was designed for football but also housed a professional baseball team. It was at this stadium, with its non-baseball specific configuration, where Braves third basemen Chipper Jones failed to field a chopping, yet still routine, ground ball that would have ended the game and secured victory for Atlanta. The reason for his error? The lights of the stadium. Yes, a professional baseball player lost a ground ball in the lights.

Rather than closing out the game with a victory, the Braves saw the Marlins win that game with a walk-off homerun. In a playoff race where every game counts, Atlanta’s loss allowed the Cardinals to close the gap in the standings, and it set up the drama of the final game of the season. As we saw with the Phillies-Braves game that went into extra innings, Destiny was working her magic in Miami to keep the Cards on track to the World Series.

Still not convinced? How about the fact Game 6 of the World Series was postponed a day due to rain? The delay allowed St. Louis ace Chris Carpenter to start the decisive Game 7 on short rest. After a rocky first inning in which he gave up a two runs on three hits, Carpenter settled down and allowed only three hits over the next five innings he pitched. Without the rain delay two nights before, Carpenter would not have been able to pitch Game 7, and who knows what the outcome would have been for the Cardinals.

There are probably a million other examples I could cite in favor of Destiny being in favor of St. Louis. Cards fans would take in and embrace each and every one of them. Rangers fans, however, would be less inclined to accept that argument, instead pointing to factors like tiny strike zones, inconsistent calls at the plate, head-scratching moves by Texas Manager Ron Washington, and just plain bad luck. To Rangers fans, Destiny is whore not worth discussing, let alone validating.

Yet taking it all into account, with the unwavering luxury of hindsight, it is indeed seductive to think a team won a championship not because they played hard, kept fighting, and had the bounces go their way, but instead because they were meant to win. Because the ghosts of Rogers Hornsby and Dizzy Dean conspired to make it so. Because the ever strong wills of Bob Gibson and Ozzie Smith found their way into the clubhouse of this 2011 team.

The idea of such a power taking control of the outcome of a sporting event and, subsequently, an entire season is fantastical and illogical. And it is also exactly why we love sports, and why we embrace Destiny with open arms.