Jeff Pearlman

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Sometimes crap turns into gold

Screen Shot 2018-05-31 at 5.03.23 PM

In the summer of 1984, when I was 12 and my brother David was 14, we took a big cross-country trip to California.

It was easily the grandest journey of my young life, and it included (among other things), Universal Studios, the Gaslamp Quarter, a Mets-Giants game at Candlestick, a couple of hours in Tijuana and, of course, a journey to San Francisco’s touristy-yet-necessary Fisherman’s Wharf.

It’s funny, the things you remember. That day we took a ferry to visit Alcatraz, and while I was leaving the boat a stranger pinched my ass. Which was nearly as weird as the above illustration, commissioned that day along the Wharf for, I believe, $5.

In case you’re wondering—that’s a 12-year-old Jeff Pearlman, looking nothing like a 12-year-old Jeff Pearlman. I actually found the picture last night, buried under our spare bed between my University of Delaware diploma and some yellowed newspapers. And the funny thing (and something I never would have predicted 34 years ago) is I’m actually happy Nancy did such a piss-poor job. I mean, it’s funny. I’m pretty sure (if memory serves) there was a pronounced awkwardness as Dad handed her the five note. Along the lines of … “Oh. Oh.”

Do you like it?

“Oh … it’s … um, great.”

I’m guessing Nancy pretty much drew the same face for every kid, adding only the requisite mole, scar or zit to add authenticity.

I love it.

  • TLM

    Well, she got the Mets cap right, at least.

Showtime Book
Love Me, Hate Me Barry Bonds Book
Sweetness Walter Peyton Book
The Bad Guys Won Book
The Rocket that Fell to Earth Book
Boys Will Be Boys Book

Once again, Jeff Pearlman has produced an exhaustively researched, elegantly written book that re-creates one of the most colorful and memorable teams of the modern era. No basketball fan's bookshelf will be complete without it.

— Seth Davis, author of Wooden: A Coach's Life