Honestly, that MLB Showdown Cooperstown set looked awesome online. Pictures shiny, legends staring back. Felt like a quick way to crush my buddies. Snagged a starter kit first chance I got.
Unboxing Was… A Thing
Ripped the box open, cards everywhere. Looked cool, felt thick. Then tried just slapping cards down. Got smashed immediately. My Mickey Mantle just kinda stood there while the other guy ran all over me. Total buzzkill.
First order of business? Decent dice. You think any old dice work? Nope. Went digging for my worn-in D20s from way back. Needed rollers I knew wouldn’t screw me.
Building From Disaster
Couldn’t just grab random legends. Learned that after getting walked off by a Randy Johnson I didn’t respect enough. Broke out the pencil and paper (coffee stain included). Started scribbling:
- One dude who can actually hit the dang ball (finally settled on Ted Williams).
- Two guys who get on base, period. No excuses (Lou Brock, Rickey Henderson).
- A pitcher who doesn’t melt under pressure (Warren Spahn, old reliable).
- And honestly? Some cheap guys who just catch the ball (fill the gaps, ya know?).
Got smoked again next game. But less badly. Progress.
The Grind & Finding Rhythm
Next week? Pure grind, like homework nobody asked for:
- Stared at the backs of cards. OBP became my new best friend.
- Played solo games. Me vs me. Talked to myself about outs. “Lefty Grove vs righty batter? Probably walk him.” Felt nuts.
- Started grouping my cheap guys AROUND Ted Williams. Needed them to actually do something before Ted swung.
- Pitching? Spahn ain’t throwing heat past everyone. Learned to pray for decent rolls on that 6 Control.
Finally Seeing Light
After too many beers and several late-night defeats, pieces clicked:
- Rickey Brock double steal felt dirty. Loved it.
- Getting walks with cheap batters suddenly had value. Who knew?
- Avoiding other team’s best hitter? Changed the whole game. Didn’t “challenge” them unless I absolutely had to.
- Stacking my dice hand near Spahn’s good pitches? Felt less like pure luck.
Started winning more than losing. Mostly against same friend. He got salty.
Where I’m At Now
Am I pro level? Nah. Can I lose? Oh yeah. Game craps out sometimes, dice hate you.
But that first feeling, walking Ted Williams with bases juiced after a Rickey hustle? That slaps. Feels earned.
Is it perfect? No way. Feels random sometimes. Rules for fielding? Like finding a needle in a haystack buried under another haystack. But hey, when your plan works? Pure Cooperstown magic.
