In second grade, I had a crush on Mike Sweeney.
I was 7, he was not. He was also probably married and had children at that point as well, but that didn’t stop me. Because first of all, I was…7, 7 year olds do not have a concept of what is socially acceptable.
At this time in my life Mike Sweeney was the catcher for the Kansas City Royals. Also, at this time in my life, the Kansas City Royals were terrible. You could pretty much get tickets to a game as long as you promised to not boo the home team. (or for like 5 bucks, either way) Because of this, a large portion of my summer was spent at Royals games.
In an effort to ‘woo’ their fans the Royals had autograph days where for an hour before the game certain players would sign autographs for adorable little children and uncomfortably obsessed adults. And on one particular game day, the player of choice was none other than that hunky catcher, Mike Sweeney.
My little 7-year-old heart could barely take it. Standing in line behind the 12 other people who chose to attend the game that evening, waiting in anxious anticipation for the man himself to show up. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity later, there he was. In his uniform and everything ready to sign a stack of team printed cards.
Finally, finally it was my turn. Hands shaking, I made my way up to the table. I said nothing. I probably just looked at him with a goofy grin. I was a shy 7-year-old. (Let’s get real, that’s how I would react if the same scenario was happening right now, 16 year later) Then the unthinkable happened. He asked me my name. I didn’t know how to react, but then my brain finally stepped into play and I quietly mumbled, “…Amanda…” Then he handed it to me with brilliant pearly whites shining. He handed me my newest prized possession. I took it in my still shaking hand. On this card THE Mike Sweeney had written:
“To: Amanda
Jer. 29:11
♡ Mike Sweeney”
I nearly passed out. As a 7-year-old I was pretty convinced that this “♡” meant Mike Sweeney was my new boyfriend. But you know what guys, I don’t think it did mean that. I’m pretty sure it just meant he was being nice to the shy, pathetic 2nd grader who didn’t know how to speak, but whatever.
This baseball card has been a priceless piece of my life since that day. And now, now it has gone AWOL. Somewhere between moving from Kansas to Tennessee, Mike Sweeney vanished. I don’t want to overreact, but I’m 110% sure that someone stole it to make my life sad and meaningless. Without that card how will I ever prove that Mike Sweeney once, for 5 seconds of his life, knew my name? I need it back and I need it back bad.
Without this card, my childhood is lost. So what I need is for whoever wanted to ruin my life, to return it to me ASAP. I won’t even be mad at you. But without Mike Sweeney, my childhood never happened. Do you want that on your conscience? No, you do not. Plus I’m going to just keep whining about it if I never find this card. No one wants to deal with my whining for the rest of their lives. I’m a really annoying whiner and that’s probably why I don’t have a husband, but I digress.
So in conclusion, if you find a Mike Sweeney card addressed to Amanda and you are not Amanda, it’s mine and I want, no I NEED, it back.
Also if you happen to be Mike Sweeney, could you maybe just send me a new one so this whole messy thing can be behind me? Thanks!
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OOH I am sorry. You should send this post to Mike and I bet he would send you another one!
I have honestly considered it. But I would really have no idea where to send it.
What if you sent it to the baseball organization that he played for? They might forward it to him. It is such a sweet story!