Grady Goes For Win #2

It's been almost a year since his first (and only) Indians game but today Grady will take another crack at it against the White Sox. The Tribe will be going for a 4 game win streak to get back to .500. If I wasn't such a lazy man I would look up how long it's been since they last were at .500 so late in the season.

However, since I doubt anyone else will bother to look it up either I'm going to just say it was 2007 and present that as factual. Hey, that was easy! I should do that more often! Maybe I can get a show on Fox News! There's even about a 43.2% chance that I'm right.

Here he is cheering the Tribe on last year. Look at him go.

Hopefully I'll have some pictures later. It looks like another beautiful sunny day in Cleveland! Should be a balmy 48 deg. And you know it will be nice and warm up by the lake.

Good Times!

Grady's Take On Acta

The hiring of Manny Acta by the Tribe has been met with a bit of trepidation in Cleveland. There are some who think (mostly because of his W/L record) that it was a terrible hire. There are some who think (mostly because Bobby Valentine is a nut job and they can't think of anyone better) that it was a good hire.

I fall more in line with the latter group, mostly because the people in the former group tend to be morons who think that RBIs (yes, RBIs with an 's'...I'm old school) matter (in that regard I'm decidedly not old school).

But, it doesn't matter what I think. I'm an idiot. That is not in dispute.

What matters is what Grady thinks.


No, not that Grady.


Yes, that Grady. He's the real brains here. What's his take?

Well, I'll show ya:


I think that says it all. It's perfectly clear.

Grady definitely is behind this hire and Manny Acta.

So long as Joel Skinner is never seen coaching 3rd base again. Ever.

I have to go with Grady on this.

The Best Card In 1982 Topps

I like 1982 Topps. It looks exactly 1982, if that makes any sense. Like a lot of kids I played soccer and baseball in the city leagues. I don't have my jerseys any more, but if I did I would bet that the numbers on the back are the 2-3 line variety, a lot like the borders to these cards. Enough of you probably know what I'm talking about.

Well, this set reminds me of that time. Those were good times. Therefore, I like this set, more than the other early 80's sets. Not that I don't like those, I just like this one more.

Now I have the best card in the set. It's a super rare variation SP of the Cleveland Indians Team Leaders card, #559B. It was sent to me by Travis over at the esteemed blog Punk Rock Paint.

It's pretty sweet isn't it? I defy anyone to find a better card in that set.




Look at Grady on the right there. That kids means freakin' business, doesn't he? He's not there to screw around.

Thanks Travis. Awesome card, dude.

Grady is 1 and 0

Feel free to move along. This post is about my kid and stuff.

I'm that guy. You know the one. The idiot who takes his infant son to the ballgame and disturbs everyone sitting around him. Judge me if you want, it was awesome. Seriously good times.

About a week ago, Sunday, 5-31 to be exact, Grady attended his first Tribe game. Against the Yankees no less. My friend Brad and his wife, who Katie and I get about 10 tickets a season with, also have a new member of their family. Riley is about 10 months. Grady is about 8.

We had tickets for that game, but never got around to getting a babysitter. I guess we figured that it's never too early for the kids to start rooting for the Tribe and hating the Yankees. Maybe Gloria James should have taken Lebron to a game when he was just a little guy.*

*I'll give Lebron a pass for his Yankee fandom. I figure since he is...you know...the greatest basketball player on the planet, he can root for whatever freakin' baseball team he wants and I'll still want him on my team. I have no idea why this is an issue.

So we packed up the kids and headed on out to the Jake (or Prog, I guess). It was Carl Povano vs Phil Hughes. Unfortunately, Grady's namesake (Grady Sizemore for those of you who have never read this blog before) was put on the DL that day and didn't play.

Pavano was dealing and the Tribe took a 3-0 lead after 3. They tacked on another in the 5th. In the 6th, the Yankees closed to 4-2. And, they tied it in the 8th. It was a good game.

In the 9th, Eric Wedge must have decided that it makes little sense to save Kerry Wood for save situations when we rarely seem to be in them. I was very happy to see him. They Yankees weren't as Wood pitched a scoreless ninth. Peralta singled in the winning run in the bottom of the ninth off of David Robertson who tried in vain to clean up Phil Cokes mess.

Tribe 5 Yankees 4

Grady Kramer: 1-0

To tell the truth, we didn't know what to expect. I hoped we'd last more than 3 innings. Figured we'd have to leave around the 5th or 6th. I was wrong. Both kids were great. No crying or anything. They lasted the whole game. Everyone around us loved them. (What do you expect? People love babies.)

I screwed up and didn't take many pictures. I did get a few so here they are.


Here is my wife Katie (who wouldn't let me name him Dayf) and the kid.


Here is Katie (doing her Earl Hickey impression), Grady, Lisa and Riley. I need to get Riley one of those pink "Grady's ladies" shirts. If you think that there are not constant jokes about the future of little Grady and Riley to my friend Brad, you don't know me very well.


Here I am with the Kid before we realized that it was cold as hell and we needed to get him something warmer to were. You know, the way good parents do.


Here's the happy family.


This is Grady in the 8th inning right after Mark Teixiera tied the score.


Here are the good guys celebrating after Peralta's game winning hit.


And, here is Grady after the game, exalting in the glory of the win. Looking an awful lot like his dad; fat, dumb, and possibly slightly drunk. Don't worry, the girls drove. (And I wasn't really drunk anyway). Can you believe that not too long ago this kid weighed 3 lbs?


Going to the game I was getting all of these mental images in my head about how I was going to make Sportcenter. I could see it happening. Mark Derosa would foul off a ball. Id be holding Grady in my left arm. Seeing that I had time I'd slowly put my beer in the cup holder and stand up. Shielding the kid, I'd slightly turn my back to make sure he was safe. With my right hand I'd make a sure, barehanded grab of the ball. The crowd goes wild for me. Seeing the spectacular play, the TV people come and do an interview with me. Word gets back to the dugout that the guy who made the amazing play has named his kid after Grady Sizemore. We get invited to the clubhouse after the game. Grady, instantly recognized as the good luck charm is made into this season's mascot. We are given season tickets and a free limo to every game. Inspired, the Tribe goes on a tear, easily overtaking the anemic AL Central and win the division going away. The season ends with a World Series win against LA. We are flown to LA for the series clinching game and, ever the good sport, Night Owl takes us all out to a fancy restaurant after the game: the In-N-Out on Radford.

It almost happened. Maybe next time.

Three Hours And A Cloud Of Dust

I can’t believe how long I’ve been gone. I’ve kept up with a lot of blogs while I’m at work, I just can’t really post from there. The plan was to start posting again after all of the craziness of the holidays had subsided. Now, all of a sudden, it’s the middle of January.

Actually, I have a really good excuse. I’ve been in a medically induced coma, brought on by a sort of commercial induced hysteria, since the 3rd quarter of the Fiesta Bowl. As a lot of you know, I’m a big fan of college football and the Ohio State Buckeyes in particular. This season I watched as many bowl games as possible. Sports is the best thing to watch with a new kid because you can enjoy them even while a baby is screaming in your ear for no apparent reason. So, I’m there watching the Fiesta Bowl toward the end of bowl season and somewhere in the middle of the 3rd quarter it all goes black.

Apparently I started ranting and raving about having to immediately go out and buy a Dodge Ram truck. According to Dr Rosenrosen, it was some sort of primal urge over which I had no control. He’s treated 23 similar cases this bowl season. It’s as if I had been brainwashed, Zoolander style, by repeated viewings of testosterone fueled manly men in their new trucks (with the side compartment that conveniently stores fishing gear) driving through some sort of flaming post apocalyptic garbage dump while trying to avoid some other pickups of unknown make that are, for some reason, swinging back and forth on chains descended from huge cranes. It’s like some sort of nightmare from which there was no escape and was repeatedly beaten into my head after every change of possession for the entire bowl season.

Well, eventually I snapped. Frankly I’m surprised that more people didn’t. I’ve been told that I kept yelling “AHHH YEAHHH!” and “THIS IS HOW I ROLL!!” because, you know, that’s what real men do. They drive Dodge Rams through garbage dumps and yell such things. (Actually, I’m just guessing it was a dump. It could just as easily have been Pittsburgh) Then I would blabber on about how someone needs to drop 2 tons of rocks from about 3-4 stories up into the bed of my new truck because if a truck can’t handle that, then who the hell needs it? Right? People do that type of thing with their trucks all of the time.

Anyway, after about ten days of intense psychotherapy and hypnosis, my insurance coverage maxed out and Dr Rosenpenis assured me that I’m cured. Nobody will tell me who won the game, though.

Another reason posting has been sparse is Grady.

Basically, time has ceased to have any meaning. Life is now a sequence of never-ending 3 hour increments. Grady lives like Woody coaches. Put your head down, plow straight ahead, repeat.

Born 3 months ago, Grady is now about 5 weeks corrected age. He’s finally over 7 pounds and doing well. He’s still hooked up to a home monitor that blares if he doesn’t breath for 20 seconds, or if he pulls one of the leads off. Unless you live in Australia, you may have heard it.

I’m beginning to think that the kid is a bit of a narcissist. He cries when he wants to be picked up (which is always) and he demands to be fed every 3 hours (just like his old man). He has absolutely no regard for my baseball cards and blogging. In fact, he doesn’t seem to care what anyone else thinks about anything. This is leaving me very little time as of now, so those of you checking the blog hourly to see who the next player with the double ear flap will be may have to wait a little while longer. I am planning to post MUCH more frequently, though. I’m just not foolish enough to promise anything.

I think he’s going to like baseball as he seems to like games in general. His two favorite games right now are:

1. Feed me right now just kidding get that bottle out of my mouth no really feed me just kidding.

2. Guess what I’m crying about now wrong again.


At such a young age he’s already mastered both of these games. I play them with him every day and I don’t seem to be getting any better.







So, this post is basically an update. After this I’ll continue on posting stupid things about baseball cards. Until then, I’ll leave you with a few stupid observations I made while watching TV the other day (specifically Independence Day and a commercial). They really have nothing to do with anything.

1. OK, you’re making Independence Day and you have this huge budget and Will Smith is attached. You’ve storyboarded the big spaceships and the buildings blowing up. You’re pretty much guaranteed a blockbuster. So, as a goof, you make a list of who would be the worst, least convincing president possible. Bill Pullman makes that list, doesn’t he? The list is Carrot Top, Macauley Caulkin, Meatloaf, and Bill Pullman, right? And, truth be told, Pullman doesn’t get the call until Meatloaf turns it down. How does something like this happen?

2. Now you have the 1st lady. She’s in a helicopter crash but survives. Miraculously she is saved by the woman who was the only one that decided to hide in a closet that was, for some reason, built into the side of the tunnel. So they’re talking and the single mom with the huge rack who lives in LA with her military boyfriend tells the 1st lady that she’s a dancer. 1st lady says “Ah, ballet”. Ballet? Are you freakin serious 1st lady? Who on the face of this earth immediately thinks “ballet”? Really, I’ll bet everyone reading this either knows a stripper or went to school with someone that became a stripper or something like that. How many of you have ever met a professional ballet dancer? I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it’s a little like meeting someone who tells you that they are a musician and immediately jumping to the conclusion that they probably play base in a Molly Hatchet tribute band. It’s just so unlikely.

3. OK, one more. This is already way too long and purposeless. What’s with the guys from the flomax commercial? Are these guys the worst friends ever? They’re out fishing and one of them lands a big one but nobody is willing to wait 1 minute for Larry to get out of the bathroom so he can be in the picture too? And they keep doing it. Everywhere they go they absolutely refuse to wait. Do these guys even like each other? Seriously, what a bunch of assholes. So, I guess they’re saying that if you use flomax on your geezer cross country road trip with your asshole buddies there is less chance of being left out of the picture.

I guess that about does it for now. Future posts:
1. Reviews of more cards from Tribecards
2. Appreciation post for I Am Joe Collector and the brick of cards he sent me
3. Post on the cards I got from White Sox Cards for winning a trivia contest
4. A post about THE OSU that I promised Jeff a long time ago
5. A new set I’m working on if I can figure out how to photoshop cards like Steve at Whitesox does.
6. More random stupidity. Much, much more.

I said good day.

Grady's Card From Dinged Corners

About 2 weeks ago Grady got his first card. If you are reading this you probably read a lot of baseball card blogs and will not be surprised at all by who the card came from. It was sent by Patricia and Lucy from Dinged Corners, two of the all time great Blog People. I knew it was coming. Not long after I wrote about Grady being born I got an email from Patricia to tell me that a card would be in the mail soon. After a short scare that it might be lost in the mail (as well as the disturbing possibility that I may have somehow forgotten where I live and given them the wrong address) it arrived. I immediately emailed Patricia that we had gotten the card and I promised a post about it the next day. That was only 2 weeks ago. Time, I am finding out, manifests itself strangely when there is an infant about.

Waiting for the card to arrive, I knew it would be something great. Anybody who is familiar with Dinged Corners knows this. That still didn’t stop me from being overwhelmed when it got here. Patricia and Lucy saw the card in a card shop (only the 2nd time they’ve ever been to one) and thought of Grady. Imagine that, they bought a card for someone they’ve never met because his dad writes a silly little blog about baseball cards featuring players with gold teeth and two ear flaps. I can only hope that I am half as thoughtful.

The card is a 2008 Upper Deck – A Piece of History –Stadium Scenes Grady Sizemore Jersey Card numbered 23/25. It is a truly awesome card. Some players are more important to a team than numbers reflect. While Sizemore’s numbers are very good, he is one of those players, and as an Indians fan, there is no player I’d rather have on my team. I feel very lucky that I get to watch him play every day during the season.

Also, and I’m sure this comes as no surprise, Grady Sizemore is my son Grady’s favorite player.

“Seriously Mike, there’s no way you could know who his favorite player is. The kid’s only 6 weeks old and doesn’t even know what baseball is.”

Yeah, well, I’ve talked to him a lot about baseball and the Indians and Sizemore already. Also, Grady has given me no indication that Sizemore ISN’T his favorite player. I’m his father and I think I know him best. Until someone comes at me with Nate Silver like numbers indicating something else, I think it’s a safe assumption. And don’t even joke about him being a Yankee’s fan. Seriously, that isn’t funny.

The card also came with a very nice note and a picture drawn by Lucy. If I had any idea how to use photoshop, I’m sure I could get a better scan of the letter. As it stands I’m kind of an idiot so I’ll just type what it says in case it is difficult to read due to my poor scanning capabilities.

“Dear Michal, we are excited about the baby. And we hope you guys like the card we are sending you. Enjoy! - Lucy from Dinged Corners

This is followed by a nice picture of me hitting a ball to Grady. Let’s just hope that he turns out to be a better fielder than his old man was.

Lucy and Patricia – Thank you very much for the letter and the card. It was very thoughtful and very much appreciated.

Names and such

You may be wondering how the name Grady was picked. If you’re reading this blog you are probably a baseball fan and are likely aware that I am an Indians fan. This would lead you to consider that maybe he was named after Grady Sizemore, the incredible Cleveland center fielder and my favorite current Tribesman. Those of you who think this are absolutely 100% correct. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

For those of you who believe that there’s not a chance in hell that my wife Katie would let me name our son after a baseball player, here is another theory: My wife wanted a family name. Grady is an old family name on Katie’s side, her great grandmother’s surname.

Her whole family is Irish and there were a few names to pick from. I’m mostly German. Ultimately we kept coming back to Grady. We thought we had a few more months, but in the end, we had to pick something quick. I think it’s probably better that way.

The following is a list of names considered, but ultimately rejected for one reason or another.

From Katie’s side:

Franklin – not bad, but already taken.

Casey – same thing

John – Too common I guess

From my side: (this is a more exhaustive list as my mother is something of a fiend for genealogy)

Harry – Grandfather’s middle name. My wife was having none of it despite my pointing out that Letterman used it for his son. This failed to move her. In fact I suggested we then use her father’s name “Gerry” as well. Harry Gerry Kramer has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Maybe I’m the only one.

Cooper – Not bad. Rejected due to close affiliation with the Manning family.

Cushman – Awesome name but it’s already a close cousin’s middle name. I liked the idea of him having the same nickname as Jerry O’Connell’s character. Then I could teach him that song he played on the guitar.

Bartholomew – Pretty sweet. No chance in hell. My wife has no sense of humor.

Lemuel – My personal favorite. I have something like 4 ancestors named Lemuel. It’s ridiculous. Why it fell out of favor I’ll never know, but my wife wouldn’t allow the attempted comeback. She has no vision.

Others considered:

Bodhi and Dalton – Only for twins. For some reason I think it would be hilarious to name twins after Patrick Swayze’s character in Point Break and Roadhouse.

Quint – I love Jaws

Lucas or Luke – I thought of Paul Newman. My wife thought of Corey Haim.

Dayf – That conversation happened in the hospital and went like this:

Me – “I just got an awesome package of cards from a guy in Atlanta”
Katie – “What for?”
Me – “I told him I’m a fan of Dan Gable”
Katie – “The wrestler?”
Me – “Yeah”
Katie – “He played baseball too?”
Me – “No, but they make all sorts of cards”
Katie – “So he sent you a Dan Gable card? That was nice. Why’d he do that?”
Me – “Just because. That’s what the blog people (that’s what I call us to my wife) do. It wasn’t just Gable either. He sent me a whole shitload of Indians. I’m trying to find some interesting stuff to send back to him. Maybe we could name the kid after him.”
Katie – “What’s his name”
Me – “Dayf”
Katie – “Dave? Your uncle’s named Dave.”
Me – “No, Dayf”
Katie – “Dave?”
Me – “Dayf”
Katie – “What are you saying? Dave?”
Me – “No, Dayf”
Katie – “Huh?”
And…….scene. I have no recollection of how that conversation ended. Most likely my wife started to ignore me or the nurse came in. Either way, sorry Dayf. I tried.

· Travis – Maybe 2 years ago.

· Manny – Maybe 10 years ago

· J’Grady , LeGrady, DaGrady – I liked them.

Possible nicknames: There really are no shortened or nicknames for Grady. This is probably a good thing. But, if he needs one, here are a few that may be considered, and I welcome your input:

· Larry – I just like that name. My friends are still texting me asking how “Little Larry” is doing. My wife is thrilled.

· Captain Cheeseburger – I think it’s taken, though.

· Skippy McGillicutty – What an awesome name

· LT – Why not? Apparently people have no qualms about giving this to others despite it already being the nickname of the greatest linebacker ever.

· Berserker – Someone already wrote a great song

· Pilot Inspector – Wait…It’s already taken

I guess none of those will probably stick, but I’m open to suggestions. This is your homework Larry.

What, are you kidding me?

We got ourselves a family.

There are a few ways I could do this post. The first way is to make short frequent posts about my kid and what’s happened the last 3 weeks that no one would be interested in because this blog is supposed to be about baseball cards and my incredible lack of knowledge or interesting opinions on that subject. The second way is to try to get the whole thing out of the way right now in one post that no one would read because of the reasons previously stated. This would allow me to get back to the important topics I have recently explored, such as players with metal teeth and those who wear their hat under their helmet. This is the path I will attempt to take.

The most likely scenario, however, is that I will, right now, make a long rambling post about my kid and then fail to abstain from boring you with posts about him in the future. The reason for this is that being a dad, I’m realizing, is really a hell of a thing, and I’m not sure how my brain will work going forward and what I’ll be thinking about. And, what I’m thinking about is pretty much what ends up in my posts.

I figured I’d start with a brief timeline of events that led to the existence of Grady Michael Kramer, bad ass mofo and ass-kicker extraordinaire.

Sept. 97 – I meet my future wife in Columbus The Shoe

Jan 03 – OSU wins National Championship

June 03 – I marry my wife in Dayton

Feb or March 08 – My wife becomes pregnant. I am presumably involved.

Sept 19, 2008 – At a yearly checkup at her regular doctor, it is discovered that my wife’s BP is slightly elevated.

Sept 22 – My birthday. My wife’s (Katie) OB sends her to the hospital for a few hours to get hooked up to the monitor. My wife tells me not to bother leaving work. I leave anyway. They decide to keep her overnight “just to be safe”. It may be nothing. It may be a condition called pre-eclampsia that could ultimately end with seizures. This seems like the most likely scenario as the symptoms fit. For some reason none of the doctors will make this definitive diagnosis and there is talk that my wife may be able to go back to work “on a reduced schedule” as if such a thing exists for her.

Sept 23 – The high risk OB does an ultrasound. The kid looks good. My wife asks if it is pre-eclampsia. Doc looks at her like she has a banana sticking out of Banana her ear. “Of course it’s pre-eclampsia. Hasn’t anyone told you that yet?” It’s the basic “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…” speech. IF she is allowed to leave the hospital she will be on bed rest until delivery, which is supposed to be in 11 short weeks. She will only be allowed to leave if they can get her BP under control. They give her a shot of steroids to help the baby’s lung development. No mention of the effect it will have on her average or power numbers.

Sept 25 – Things are becoming routine and boring at the hospital. BP is still high. It is decided that I will go home to get some stuff done (bills, clean, cut grass, etc) and return the next afternoon.

Sept 26 6:00 AM – I get this call from my wife: (heavy breathing, not the good kind) “I feel terrible. My BP is 185/115. OK, I’m going to go now.” I somehow make it to the hospital without being pulled over. They are probably going to deliver. But, at about 8:00 PM the docs decide to hold off. This same scenario repeats itself every few days.

Oct 1 – My wife calls me in the late morning requesting my presence again. I call work to tell them I can’t make it, again. I arrive at the hospital at about 1:00. I’m a father at 3:34. A mere 10 weeks early.

Grady arrives pissed off and screaming. I take this as a good sign. They hold him up for us to see. We were told to expect him to be about 3 lb. He’s 3 lb 2 oz. I had no idea what 3 lbs worth of baby would look like but there’s more of him than I expected. I even get to hold him for the shortest 5 seconds of my life. Then it’s off to the NICU, his home for the next 6 – 8 weeks.
What follows is a muddled mess of tubes, beeps, dings, nurses, doctors, biliruben lights, hiccups, flowers, visitors, phone calls, pumps, lactation consultants, trips back and forth to the hospital, pictures, fast food, and very little time to ourselves. I can’t believe that it’s already been 2 weeks.

As for my wife, she is doing great. She was released looking like a cabbage patch kid and promptly lost an astounding 24 lbs over a 3 day stretch last week. She looks awesome and, as far as I can tell, is the most natural mother in the world.

As for Grady, he’s doing well. Breathing on his own in room air. He still has a tube snaked down his throat to feed him, but that will take a little longer. He’s growing. I have my suspicions that he is the greatest kid ever born. Well, at least in the 90th percentile. He’s definitely cool. The chicks already dig him, so he’s got that going for him, which is nice.

That brings us up to date. That’s about as condensed as I can make it. I thank anyone who bothered to read the whole thing.

The end of this post brings me to the realization that there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to keep my promise made at the beginning of the post. I apologize in advance for the future posts about my new family, but I can already think of a bunch of stuff I left out and feel like I have to get down in writing.
Hopefully posts in the future will be more entertaining and eventually gravitate back into the realm of sports and sports cards. My goal is at least a post a day from now on. Sorry I’ve been away so long. Things have been kind of weird around here.