On December 21, 2018 I received this card from the Baseball Card Bandit (BCB):
The BCB sent this bad boy a few days ago.
2019 Notes: This card is the definition of a "bad boy". Look at Romine there, the start of a mullet, mustache (even though by that time a mustache is passé) the squinted eyes staring off into the distance. Romine had all the swagger of a late 80s pro ballplayer. When someone asks you what a late 80s/early 90s back up outfielder looks like, show them this card.
The passage of time is often times subtle. One day you notice gray hairs, wrinkles on your face and a little more cushion around the stomach. Time has a way of sneaking up on you and screaming “You’re old!” loud enough so that everyone hears.
Sports is different. Sure there are still subtleties, like your favorite outfielder can’t quite catch up to a fastball anymore or your team’s quarterback can’t throw the ball more than 20 yards at a time. But, like life, then there are the big signs like when age sneaks up and yell at you, like when a player you remember as a rookie has two kids in the major leagues.
Kevin Romine was a fourth or fifth outfielder for the Red Sox for most of his career. I remember him fighting Randy Kutcher for playing time for a majority of his career, which isn’t how he probably thought his career would end up. But his two kids, Yankee Austin and Tiger Andrew have each played in the league since 2011.
That’s a long time.
Anyway, Kevin didn’t have much of a career filled with notoriety. About the only real moment he had was in 1988 he hit a walk off dinger—his first major league homer—off Royals reliever (and future Red Sox) Steve Farr in the midst of Morgan Magic.
I remember exactly where I was when this happened, when I was a kid I worked for my church. I was an altar boy and I opened the church. When I didn’t have to serve I usually sat in back of the sacristy and listen to my Walkman. Usually Kiss or Poison would be in the tape deck but this day I was listening to the ball game.
When Romine hit his homer, Mass was still being said and I recall letting out a loud “YES!” which may have disrupted the celebration.
As far as I know that’s about the only real obvious net positive effect that Romine had on a Sox game even though he played with them four more than four seasons. Yet every time I hear about him or his kids, I think about being an altar boy and then it hits me: that was 30 fucking years ago.
2019: I was talking with my friend the other day and I said that if you ran up to me and asked me what year it was, I'd reflexively say that it was 1998 or something. It actually takes me a moment or two to remember that 2000 was 19 years ago. That there is a generation of kids who don't remember 9/11 or when the Patriots were horrible. Time passes by fast, more quickly than my mind can process sometimes.
I wonder what Romine is most proud of: his career in the majors or that two of his sons have had long careers in baseball? I bet that if push came to shove, he'd say the latter. Wouldn't you?
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