The baseball card horror movie

I'm not a fan of horror movies.

This is my own personality talking, but I've never seen the upside of getting the you-know-what scared out of me. But, again, that's just me.

Maybe that's part of why I collect baseball cards. Two-by-three-inch pictures of grown men playing a game can't be at all threatening, right? Right?

Bob Welch and his disembodied hand would like to have a word with you. This devilish card genuinely scares me, and, after it appeared as part of this week's frankenset page, I got to thinking in the chilling hours of the night.

What would a baseball card horror movie look like?

I personally see potential for a bloody type of mystery flick.

The plot could revolve around a series of frightful characters. One of these suspects is the culprit behind the gruesome fate of Bob Welch's right hand.

Perhaps another is responsible for the beheading of Ty Cobb.

So...

Whodunit?

Which of these cardboard culprits is responsible? Could it have been Jose Lind and his sparkling sword?

He looks like a bloodthirsty Pirate to me.

Or perhaps Jay Buhner and his trusty chainsaw?

That thing can cut through human flesh with a flick of the wrist.

Or maybe it's Rudy Law, whose trusted means of massacre are, well...his bare hands.

Don't look at him the wrong way. In fact, don't even look at him at all. No eye contact. Not even a sideways glance.

He'll find you.

He's been known to get riled up for a lot less.

Like any movie, we need a cast of supporting characters.

Personally, I think any number of Dick Perez's famous '80s Diamond Kings would fit for a number of roles. I know that a lot of collectors gush over these things, but I've never been a huge fan.

Some of them have been known to scare the crap out of me, if I'm being completely honest.

Dave Concepcion is eternally staring into my soul.

These two cards have been sitting in my binders for about a decade now.

Rusty Staub and Jimmy Wynn here were a couple of the first oddballs I picked up (they hail from the Mother's Cookies brand) when I first re-entered the hobby. I thought they were kind of cool at first, but they've entered a slow and steady demise into complete horror with each passing day.

Why is Rusty Staub purple? Why is Jimmy Wynn giving me that sly smile? Why are their different shades of colors on their uniforms? Are those blood stains from innocent victims?

I have to prepare myself whenever I'm perusing through my Astros binder.

They're only a page away.

My mom and I don't often converse about my baseball cards.

I do know that she is absolutely horrified by this particular piece of artwork, if you want to call it that.  She freaked out when I showed it to her a few years back and told me to never let it within her sight again. I agree with Mom.

This, more than perhaps any other card in my collection, really does remind me of a horror movie. I can feel the nightmares starting already. Brooks and his melting face jumping through the window in the middle of the night, blood on his mind.

Geez, can we please get off this topic?

I'm sticking to comedies.

(See what kind of post ideas pop into my head at four in the afternoon?)