THE SEEDS | THE START OF BIG BEAN SPORTS

If you take the time to get this far into the site, I want to start with the sincerest “Thank You” and welcome to the seeds, or the start of Big Bean Sports. I’m not blind to the fact there are thousands of card collectors/ investors and, while it may be a saturated market, it was time to put up or shut up. While it is a sports card-based operation, we have much larger plans to create what we lovingly call a “sports lifestyle” brand (I know just stay with me) when more established.

Even brand new and barely out of incubation, it’s a bit crazy to think Big Bean Sports LLC is real. What I still can’t get over is the time, effort, and energy my wife Brielle put into every detail of this endeavor. The website came as a birthday present and the idea was that I could post my sports takes/blogs and maybe pictures of my favorite cards (and mostly so I’d quit directing it at her). Once she began designing, her passions took over, and I can’t believe I get to say we’re in a small business together. She took over the site build, social media editing, dealing with me, stream designs, and also dealing with me. I can’t thank her enough, but I’m certain I’ll be reminded enough over the years and repayment will be well worth it! Now on to the journey..

I am a recovering douchebag

Big Bean Sports comes from decades of fandom and behind-the-scenes passion. While I will always be an avid fan of my teams, sports mean so much more to so many I hope to highlight. I have long been intrigued by the organized chaos of salary caps, tax aprons, bird rights, franchise tags, and all the other financial salad the leagues provide. However, this is nowhere near my passion or drive to finally decide to go all in.

I should admit while writing this; if I were from Boston or somewhere that… wins, I may have quite a different perception. I’d like to thank the great city of Chicago and its illustrious leadership for molding this modest sports fan. Okay, back to it!

I live for the moments, the memories, and the marching band thundering down the field before taking on their rival for a silly trophy that means nothing to you but EVERYTHING to that area. To the two dudes tailgating that finally decided to settle on who has a better 3-point stance (they both suck), the PA announcer, who always seems to have the coolest voice I’ve ever heard, the old timer with headphones and a scorecard, and countless more characters I’ve been graced with in this life. Thank you. The memories last a lifetime, and I’ve come to understand the joys in life are never the event/ game/ etc.; it’s the moments in between. It’s the drive to pick up your buddies or train ride down; it’s the heated debates in Lot C with someone feeding you absolute dog food takes; there are plenty of bad eggs to sully what should be a great experience, but at its core, there’s something beautiful about it all.

Speaking about that beauty.. To the ticket scalper who taught my father and I an important lesson at Fenway Park.. Go fuck yourself, but it also made for a great story later.. Maybe more on another day.

My father and I not at Fenway Park

When thinking of favorite live sports memories and pivotal childhood moments, they rarely come from a professional league. To this day, I kept a signed baseball from the Cook County Cheetahs (now the Windy City Thunderbolts) roster I got for my 7th birthday, a few Chicago Wolves pucks we caught in skate around and a pair of gloves I caught at a Chicago Rush game. You couldn’t convince me I wasn’t center stage of a 75,000-person arena when I was in a Cheetahs chipping contest on the side of the field between innings. I won closest to the hula-hoop, not a big deal or anything.

If you stuck with my first-edition ramblings, I really appreciate it and hope you’re back for all that follows.

Big Bean out :)