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.
Jeremy’s Journal: Magical Bobbleheads
