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Running with Bucky emblazoned on my noggin.

Running with Bucky emblazoned on my noggin.

I have a recurring problem… okay several (Ha Ha), but this one I’m willing to talk about openly.

It’s hats… in particular, baseball hats. Yup, I’m addicted to those wonderfully brimmed beauties that keep the sun and sweat out of our eyes while simultaneously professing our love of a particular team, product or place.

I equate my love of ball caps to that of ladies’ obsession with shoes. I mean how many pairs of black heels can you own? Apparently a boatload. I can certainly relate.

Tokyo Giants... play ball!

Tokyo Giants… play ball!

As a little kid I loved to wear the ball caps of my favorite professional teams or whatever little league team I was playing on. And when my dad would go to Asia on business he would bring me back ball caps of Japanese baseball teams (my favorite was the Tokyo Giants). Fortunately, by the time I hit my teens I kind of grew out of them and showed the world my blonde locks uncluttered by headwear.

Then came college.
As a student at the University of Wisconsin (yes, those “Final Four” bound Badgers… woo hoo), my baseball cap addiction reappeared with a vengeance as I started collecting oodles of Wisconsin ball caps. Then when I went onto grad school at Florida State, the collection only got bigger with the addition of FSU hats to my already massive collection of UW hats.

Oh, it gets worse.

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