Reed Receipt

Does anyone else hate the "read receipt" feature on their respective smartphone?  As a terrible texter, it's truly not in my best interest that people know when I originally see their text messages.  I'm guilty as sin for quickly opening a received message - often times, simply to clear the notification - and then setting my phone back down while I contemplate a response.  Then, because I'm as easily distracted as a toddler by the jangling of car keys, I'll start to do the dishes or clean the bathroom or vacuum the carpet or knit a sweater or any number of things and completely forget about the communication.  It's not until several hours later that I suddenly have that panicked realization and hastily bang out a heavily auto-corrected response, all the while my erstwhile friend or family member thinks incessantly about how rude I am for giving them the runaround.  At least, that's what this insecure blogger fears.

Therefore, I tend to leave that tattling feature toggled off - it's just better that everybody doesn't think I'm willfully ignoring them all the time.  I'd rather that they think that I just don't have my device with me,  or I'm unable to come to the phone, or that I've been devoured by wildebeests.  It's for the best.

However, as much as I dislike "read receipts," I'm about to incriminate myself with one right now.  Well, in this instance, it's actually a "Reed receipt:"

That's right, this was all an elaborate (yet truthful) set-up for a downright awful, eye-roll inducing pun.  Soak it in - that's the kind of content that Wrigley Roster Jenga has come to be known for.

This post is being drafted to simultaneously thank Jason, of Hoarding Cardboard (one of the best new blogs of 2017, btw), and let him know that I received the autographed 1998 Topps Jeff Reed single that he recently sent my direction - hence, "Reed receipt."  In a rare stroke of luck, I happened to win my choice from a group of John Hancock-graced pasteboards in one of the rookie writer's generous "A Season of Giving" giveaways, held throughout the month of December.  It arrived in my mailbox on Tuesday, was documented in my collection on Wednesday, and I'm letting him know on Thursday.  All in all, that's a pretty quick turnaround... by my standards.

Hang on, Tony - why would you, a noted Cubs fanatic, choose an signed copy of a unassuming Rockies card from one of the most-disliked Topps sets of all-time?  Well, hypothetical reader, please allow me to explain.

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Reed makes the play at the plate, tagging out San Diego's Adam Eaton (the OG one) on 8/6/00.

You see, Jeff Reed was one of your stereotypical, nomadic back-up catchers.  During his lengthy 17-year career in the Bigs, only four times did he get on the turf for more than 100 games, suiting up for five teams along the way.  Those teams whose jerseys Reed donned from 1984-00 were the Twins, Expos, Reds, Rockies, and... you guessed it... the Chicago Cubs, the latter of which he closed out his Major League tenure with.  In 1999 and 2000, the gruff veteran served as defensively-minded support to starters Benito Santiago and Joe Girardi (who he also played second fiddle to in Denver).

That said, most of the glory in Jeff's playing days was had with the Cincy squad - catching Tom Browning's perfect game in 1988 and winning a World Series ring in 1990, for instance.  Nevertheless, a Cub is a Cub and anytime I can add an autographed card of a Cub, even if they're sporting the colors of a National League rival rather than that perfect shade of blue, I'm going to jump at that chance.  This time, I just so happened to land the jump!

The guys that Jeff Reed played behind in Chicago.

But, wait!  There's more!

As an added bonus, Jeff Reed is a pretty big name in the Chicagoland area for another reason... in all actuality, probably more so than his relatively forgettable stint playing for the North Siders (.236/.329/.322 slash).  Notably, the Joliet, IL native was a local product, one who eventually got to play for one of his hometown, MLB clubs.  Born and raised in the prison town, Reed honed his skills on the diamond of Joliet West High School (on who's track I closed out my High School track & cross country career) before being selected as a first round draft pick of the Twins - 12th overall - in 1980.

As someone who lived in that South Side haven, off and on, for many years, as well as attending and graduating college from one of the local universities, I have a strong attachment to Joliet.  It's a second hometown to me and, thus, any of the 20 bonafide Big Leaguers who hail from that locale are extra special, in my book.  Plus, my actual hometown has never produced such a notable athlete.

Oh - and one more thing, I'm pretty sure that, having officially swapped this piece of penmanship into my Cubs All-Time Roster Collection (replacing the 1992 Fleer Ultra you see above), it's the only card from the 1998 Topps Flagship checklist to make it into that exclusive binder.  Variety is the spice of life - gotta change it up a little bit!

So, there you have the reasons why I elected to toss my hat in the ring for that particular slip of cardboard.  In summation, Jeff Reed is a former Cub, a literal hometown hero, and appearing in a set which is severely under-repped in my most cherished collection.  It all makes sense now, doesn't it?

Sure, Reed has a few Cubbie cards on the market which could potentially displace my trophy sometime down the road; as the old saying goes, that's a bridge that I'll cross when I arrive there.

Either his '00 MLB Showdown or '00 Team Issue could complicate matters.  But, that would be a good problem.

Jason, it may have taken me three days to finally get around to acknowledging your kind correspondence (not too dissimilar from the snail's pace of an average Tony Burbs text exchange), but your envelope arrived safely and soundly and has been happily absorbed into my card collection.  Thank you for holding these wonderful Yuletide giveaways, your abundant generosity, and your attention to detail which comes through in every post found on Hoarding Cardboard.

Speaking of attentiveness, come to think of it, I'm not sure I ever responded to that text that come through from my friend as I sat down to blog...  I should probably log off and get to that before something shiny draws me away again.  Good thing I have read receipts disabled or I'd certainly have one less amigo.

It happens though, right?  I should really stop "Reed-ing" so much into it.

via GIPHY