Herds of hard-core sports fans have yet to taste the sweetness that is in a championship prize taken by their favorites. It's a calming, self-satisfied air about the world I would like to see every long-haul fan experience. For those who live for trash-talk as an attempt to force the prize your way, let me fill you in on a few things, dateline metro Boston.

The place is a world of gratitude. The mood is essentially one of gratitude. We've been through the deepest downs and so savor the championships. No taunting of opponent's fans, no in-your-grille trash lip. The Sox didn't beat the Cardinals; they won the World Series. Not much of the expected "we beat the Yankees" as you might think. The Pats don't wear that bling; I haven't found a photo yet on all of Google showing the Patriots waving their Super bowl rings in anyone's vanquished face.

It's about what Aretha Franklin sang loud and proud about: respect. Respect of the other team, respect of the fans of all teams, respect of where you could be if things don't work out, respect of the warm wave that carries you through your years because you won the big one. We have a team on the diamond and a team on the gridiron that knows how much work it is and have done it when the need arose. You never heard trash generated from this side, and flare-ups blossomed only when they weren't getting the respect they were providing their worthy opponents. No phones in the end zone, no Sharpies in the socks, no moons except the one over St. Louis on an eerie autumn evening.

It's always about team, though individuals may provide thunderous moments of their own creation. Are the Pats sending anyone to the Pro Bowl? Who's that strikeout record holder who rang the right-field foul pole twice when it was absolutely positively desperately needed? Many players made their contributions, some by merely being there at the ready. With balance like this, you never know who's going to beat you, but you always know who's never going to make you eat turf just to bully.

The whole world around here is above the pregame trash. I don't see any signs of smugness; we've been whacked too long and hard to think this euphoria will last for long. We're grateful, and we know our boys had to claw their way through some of the toughest, sharpest, most skilled professionals to win it all. We're tired. We're happy. And we're pooped. And our work starts all over again always too soon for us. And we're pretty much obligated, as the long-term hard-core supporters of these kid heroes, to max the plastic on vast unimaginable piles of souvenir crap. We really know the party's over when the Visa bill shows up, hand-delivered by a couple of wise guys. So maybe there's a little, just a little twinge of regret at finally grasping what we reached for. A recent Comedy Central clip says it funnier than we care to admit; one brief portion shows a Sox fan after he proudly brays what he'd pay for a Red Sox World Series victory. He's seen downcast and muttering, "Five thousand bucks? Aw, crap! I was only kidding!"

The odious part of trash-talking and disrespecting your challengers is that it doesn't work. What if you run your lips and you don't win? Maybe hoop and boxing have a place for that, but there are proper venues for a puffed-up ego, and it doesn't seem to work well in baseball and football, despite some creative and embarrassing efforts. It's the true champions who wear the crown with dignity and grace. Do settle down, maybe switch to decaf. It may work better. And you'll find you'll get respect from the best of other worlds: players and fans elsewhere who have gone through the very same slice of heaven. It's comforting to live knowing that you're secure and in warm company no matter where, if you carry yourself with respect.

If anyone needs proof that Jim Hammond loves his family, all they have to do is take a look at his baseball card collection.

For several years now, the Portland native has been amassing Chris Hammond and Jeffrey Hammonds cards because their names are almost identical to his grandson and his son.

It's a collecting mission that began after his grandson, Chris, was born in 1992.

"It was during Spring Training in 1993 that I first noticed the baseball player named Chris Hammond," he recounts. "At the time, I didn't know anything about cards, but I thought I'd get his rookie card for my grandson."

When he discovered that he could purchase cards of the southpaw reliever for a nickel, Hammond made it his goal to collect all of Chris Hammond's cards.

"I made a list of his cards . There were a ton of sports card shops in Portland at the time and I tried to track down all of his cards," he says. The next logical step, he decided, was to have his grandson's namesake autograph some of his cards. So he wrote a letter to Hammond and enclosed some cards in the package.

"Sure enough, 10 days later, they all came back signed," Hammond remembers. "My grandson has these displayed in his bedroom."

As the years have passed, more cards of the lefthander have been produced and the proud grandfather has kept collecting. Through mail order, card shows, card shops and the Internet, Hammond has amassed a copy of all 208 Chris Hammond cards ever manufactured.

"It was funny because I became known as 'the Chris Hammond guy' at shows in my area," he says. "People would just give his cards to me."

But Hammond is not convinced that his collection is complete. He has heard that there is a 1995 Marlins team-issued post card of the veteran pitcher, but he has not managed to locate one.

"I've heard that it exists, but I've never seen one," he says.

Over the years, Hammond has expanded his collection to include other memorabilia such as autographed photos, balls, and game-used bats. His most cherished item is a picture of the major league hurler with his grandson.

"When Chris Hammond was with Boston in 1997, we drove 180 miles to Seattle to see him play," he says.

Hammond had prepared an envelope with the Red Sox southpaw's picture on it.

"Inside (the envelope) I wrote that I was here to see the game and would like to meet him," he recalls.

Prior to the game, the lefthander was playing catch when Hammond managed to grab his attention.

"I yelled to him and threw the envelope down on the field," says Hammond. "He picked it up and opened it and then he waved and threw me a ball. A few minutes later he threw another ball to my son, Jim. After the warm-up he motioned to us to come down by the Red Sox bullpen. We talked for a few minutes and had him sign the balls."

After the game, Hammond, his son and his grandson returned to the bullpen area. "He gave us another ball. We took a picture of him and my grandson . My grandson was just tickled to death. It was a heckuva good time."

In the mid-to-late '90s when the veteran pitcher started to struggle, card companies produced fewer cards of him. Hammond, who had caught the collecting bug, was left to fill a void.

A few years earlier, his brother had told him about Jeffrey Hammonds, a player with the U.S. Olympic team. The Orioles prospect's name was similar to his son's (Jeff Hammond). Hammond initially resisted collecting the former Olympian's cards because they were too expensive. But conveniently, when Hammonds started to struggle, the price of the talented outfielder's cards dropped - with this, his Jeffrey Hammonds collection was born.

In his research, Hammond has determined that there are 436 cards of the Brewers' center fielder; he has all but seven of them.

"Two of the seven are one-of-a-kind items," he says. "Those are going to be tough to get."

His collection also includes four game-used bats and an autographed ball that a friend got for him.

"I've never met Jeffrey Hammonds, but I hope to," he says. "I sent him a letter thanking him for the autographed ball and asking him for a photo, but I didn't receive anything back."

Determined to find the elusive cards for his collection, Hammond scours the Internet almost daily. His regular on-line stops include eBay and the baseball card collectors newsgroup.

"Unless you're a collecting a superstar, people have a tendency to put a player's cards away in a box and don't remember they have them," says Hammond. "But someone out there has these cards."

When complete, Hammond plans to give his Chris Hammond and Jeffrey Hammonds collections to his grandson and son respectively. And while his son isn't particularly excited about inheriting a Jeffrey Hammonds collection, his grandson periodically shows some interest in his Chris Hammond collection.

"He's only 10, so he is more into the Pokemon thing, but I take him with me when I go to card shows and he helps me look," says Hammond. "Sometimes he comes over and asks to look through my binder (of Chris Hammond cards) and I go through them with him and point out the limited edition cards."

The game-used bats and autographed balls are also a source of wonderment for his grandson, who often takes them to school for show and tell.

Through it all, Hammond's number one goal has always been to have fun.

"It's a really fun hobby," says Hammond. "I'm certainly not in it to make any money."

Kevin Glew is a freelance writer based in London, Ontario.

The contents of the respective articles represent the opinions of the individual writers and not necessarily those of the editor/owner of The Oddball Mall Sports Cards.

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