Clyde Wright, Cardboard God

[Guest Edgy DC]

Good Lord, Cardboard Gods can make a guy want to write.

[Guest Edgy DC]

OK, maybe you disagree, then.

Still these is the sort of reflections I need to underscore what makes a picture of Bruce Boisclair inneresting.

[Guest Johnny Dickshot]

He makes me want to give up writing.

[Guest Edgy DC]

Yeah, that too.

My inability to correctly express that make me want to give up writing.

[Guest sharpie]

Yeah, but how are his song parodies?

[Guest cooby]

Johnny Dickshot wrote: He makes me want to give up writing.

I think I'm more apt to give up reading.

[Guest Johnny Dickshot]

cooby wrote: ="Johnny Dickshot"]He makes me want to give up writing. I think I'm more apt to give up reading.

Nah, Coobs, seriously you should read it. I mean, the whole thing.

I got so into the Gods I went back to the beginning and read the entire blog chronologically. It's still less than a year old, you can do it.

[Guest cooby]

All right, point me to the beginning...

[Guest Johnny Dickshot]

Starts at the bottom of this page:

http://cardboardgods.baseballtoaster.com/archives/2006_09.html

You have my OK if you start in November.

[Guest cooby]

David Clyde, I remember him!

Why the end of November?

[Guest Edgy DC]

I think the author hits his stride then.

[Guest Edgy DC]

This is Wilker when he's just getting started. I'm sorry. How can this stuff not be a goldmine to a publisher (once they get reprint rights from Topps)?

Paul Dade 2006-09-17 14:13by Josh Wilker http://static.baseballtoaster.com/blogs/cardboardgods/images/2007/Paul_Dade_80.jpgSomeone has just called Paul Dade's name. Let me offer an explanation for why the calling of his name seems to have produced this mixture in his expression of apprehension, anxiety, resentment, and perhaps a slight residue of muted curiosity. At the time of this picture, Paul Dade had shuttled back and forth between different major and minor league franchises 16 different times in 9 years. He'd been promoted, demoted, waived, claimed, released, signed, released again, and then, worst of all, had ended up on the Padres, oblivion's vestibule. Paul, I've got some news. Paul, step into my office. Paul, we have to talk. This picture catches Paul Dade on the brink of a 1980 season in which he would bat .189 and make an error on roughly every 8th ball hit his way. There are no records for Paul Dade beyond that season. Whoever just called his name will eventually call yours and mine.