Circa 2002. Though I was just 6 years old at the time, my obsession with Major League Baseball was already in full-swing. As my level of consciousness evolved at a high rate with each ensuing sleep, so too did my desire to latch onto anything baseball-related. Along with watching the local Red Sox games every night, and scanning the baseball section in the Boston Globe to keep up with the League Leaders every morning, I would beg my mother to gift me all types of physical objects affiliated with MLB. Trading cards, magazines, books, even the McFarlane brand MLB player action figures. If it had any correlation with my prized sport, I wanted it, and by good fortune, I would receive it. Soon enough, I had binders that were chockfull of cards, a mini library of Matt Christopher’s MLB-player focused biographies, an art-show’s worth of player toys, and a stack of magazines that I could scan through to read about my favorite players.
When I was finished reading with At the Plate With…Ken Griffey Jr., and done organizing my cards in order from favorite to least favorite players, I would use my action figures, and play a mini baseball game in my head with my roster of toys. Life was great.
While I was immersed in the game of baseball, and everything that came with it, the universe responded to my intense adoration. Thanks to the sheer volume of superstars in the game, who, because of their incredible statistics, fascinated kids like me, MLB decided to collaborate with Post Cereals and release a set of player bobbleheads for public consumption. These plastic nodders would be located in the box of Post brand cereal, and included a plethora of different all-star players.
With a mother who would routinely purchase Raisin Brand, this was a match made in heaven. Not only would I have yet another clique of baseball-related memorabilia, but I wouldn’t have to plead for it, as the box of cereal was going to be purchased regardless. All of a sudden, I went from dreading trips to Shaw’s, the local grocery store located less than two minutes away from my childhood home, to steady asking my mom when the next food run would be. It’s funny how one little thing in life can alter the way you see something.
Now ambling the aisles with pep in my step in every outing, I couldn’t wait to get to the cereal section. By happy chance, Post & MLB planned the release with strategic thought. To avoid receiving the same player, the companies coordinated it in a way that allowed regular shoppers to reap a different player in accordance with the calendar year. This made it easy for collectors like myself to accumulate separate wobblers with ease.
As I reflect back on these moments, I can’t help but smile. Although I’m penning this blog 20+ years later, I can still sense the level of excitement I had when my mother and I picked up the container of cereal during our weekly trip. Despite the fact that the Post did a good job of mixing up the players, as my throng of top-tier bobbleheads grew throughout the baseball season, there were times where, before even purchasing, we would open the box to double check if I had already collected the appended athlete. It was funny to me then, and even funnier now.
As you see these photos, because of my obsession, I wore these wobblers out. I prized them so much that I decided to line them up across my bedroom window sill, which led to the discoloring of the jerseys. The Pedro Martinez toy in the above image once made its way into the ocean on a family vacation. I can’t tell you why, but I remember feeling cool when I did it.
Along with the fact that these were some of my favorite times in life, I have to mention the most mind boggling element of all. In the featured photo of this writeup, we have two of the bobbleheads that I collected, Chipper Jones, and Luis Gonzalez. In my debut book, Trust The Grind, a product that sold over 40,000 units, and made its way onto various summer reading lists, I interviewed 16 athletes, and two of them were Chipper Jones, and Luis Gonzalez. If you take the time to stop and look, you’ll see the magic within your own journey.
I say this to say, as young kids, we already know who we are, what we love, and what we are meant to do. At 6 years-old, I cherished ballplayers, and as an adult, when I had the most success in my career, it was due to my appreciation for excellence on the field.
Life Lesson: If you ever feel lost our out of sorts, think back to your younger self, and make him/her proud by expressing yourself in a manner that aligns with your organic character.
Jeremy’s Journal is Jeremy’s way of expressing his gratitude to the world. At the end of each 500-1,000 word post, he will include a ‘Life Lesson’ of some kind. His goal is to remind himself, and his readers, how awesome everyone’s journey can be when perceived through the proper lens.