Had jury duty today. Perp burglarized the local Sears. Tattooed knuckles, penitentiary face, ainokea clothes. One ugly bugger. I was dismissed, thank goodness. Am joining the T210 lovefest late. The eloquence of some of the above comments would be difficult to equal. I ain't gonna try. I have dabbled in the T210s with no particular focus for a few years now. The set has something for everyone. For me: a killer Stengel, Blue Grass League rookie, players like Big Jeff Tesreau who made a name in the majors, guys like Sisson and McGeehan that cross to the Contentneas, Sally Leaguers, Texas Leaguers and a "large assortment" of obscure "baseball subjects" of a 100 years ago, irresistably posed on cardboard like Goostree or Deardorff (Thanks, Jeremy), each one's story a mystery to be sleuthed. For me the T210s evoke the mythology of baseball when it really was the National Pastime, a ballyard with a wooden grandstand in every two-bit town filled with youngsters who were our grandparents and Civil War veterans and Americans who were transitioning in to the newfangled century, nary a tattooed scowl to be seen, a game played at a high level, sometimes good enough to go to the Bigs, by young men who weren't businessmen or role models or egomaniacs, just ballplayers who were happy to wear a baseball uniform and play the game and maybe get their picture on a piece of cardboard.
Oh, yeah . . I won the Goostree "Hands Behind Back" and McTigue the other night. He posted a bunch more for sale tonight. Good fun!
PS. Frank: I hope you write that book someday. Put me down for a copy.