Sports Briefs: Cardiac Cupcakes

Wiping off the white cream that was smeared across my mouth, while simultaneously admiring Andy Van Slyke, I asked my mom when I could do this again.

Seeing as how I had just finished eating a package of eight cupcakes in a span of 40 minutes, my mother's reply was, "As soon as you have a bowel movement," knowing full well that might take slightly longer than a fortnight.

Meddling with the gustatory fiesta that is Captain Cupcake, Hostess did the unthinkable in the summer of 1993: they made white cupcakes with red frosting that looked like baseballs.

In lieu sending flowers and sympathy notes to their market of sports fans who did not like removing the Captain (that being me and possibly no one else), Hostess gave away packages of three baseball cards in each box of cupcakes.

To someone who collected any type of baseball card available, this was akin to subsidizing, I think. Regardless, I just said "subsidizing."

My most highly-sought after cards were of the players, such as John Kruk and Cecil Fielder, who were not only on Hostess cards but looked like they were paid to enjoy Hostess products as well.

As sports are apt to do, looking over the players I collected and noticing how most of them have retired makes me realize that I made the wrong career decision, and that I should have been a professional athlete, in order for me to officially retire before turning 40.

Only three players that I collected remain active today: Gary Sheffield, Frank Thomas and Tom Glavine, all three of whom will receive nice going away presents and tearful ceremonies someday (in other words probably something more than a card and raw vegetable tray).

I did feel a sense of remorse that summer, a period in which I completely rejected the Captain, along with Twinkie the Kid and Fruit Pie Magician. Eating nothing but baseballs caused somewhat of a tiff between them and myself.

However, I managed to forge a certain kinship with Kruk and Fielder.

While not tasting as good as the Captain's chocolate, the baseballs were, in fact, fun to throw, especially after contemplating whether my plight would result in a complete collection of cards or a cardiac arrest at age 14.

There was a set of 32 major league stars, and seeing as how I collected 22, that equated out to me having eaten roughly a wheelbarrow's worth of cupcakes over one summer.

There was even a good chance my underwear was smeared with vanilla that year.