“There have been ALF pogs and Steve Allen pogs, jazz albums, barbershop albums, Mary Worth telephones, Radioactive Man comic books, Biclops comic books, Poochie merchandise, video games like Bonestorm and Lee Carvallo’s Putting Challenge, Itchy & Scratchy animation cels, James Bond autographs, McBain posters, bootleg movies, a little boy’s soul … but no baseball cards.” Excepting Milhouse’s purchase of a 1973 Carl Yastrzemski card, have you ever noticed the mirror held up to “The Simpsons” most ardent fans, aka Comic Book Guy, doesn’t actually trade in baseball cards? This despite his establishment being called The Android’s Dungeon & Baseball Card Shop? OK, I never thought much about it, either, but SBN’s Larry Granillo is all over this one (link swiped from Repoz and Baseball Think Factory)

The evidence is everywhere. Sure, the store is stocked with the appropriate paraphernalia — that Isotopes pennant has been hanging on the wall for as long as I can remember — but it all feels much too staged. For example, why is there a Red Sox pennant hanging behind the counter? The Red Sox have nothing to do with Springfield, but there it hangs, just another little mask for Comic Book Guy to hide behind. Who knew the neckbeard would need a beard of his own?

And the 25-cent sleeve of cardholders that has been hanging on the wall for 24 years? Is there even one other sheet anywhere else in the store? They’re not for Magic or Pokemon cards, that’s for sure. No self-respecting collectible-card-game enthusiast would store his precious cards in such cheap plastic. No, that sleeve is camouflage, hoping to convince us that The Android’s Dungeon is a baseball-card shop. Same with the baseball on the shelf along the wall, or the various ballplayer photos and magazines that are set up occasionally. But we know the truth.

It’s time to end the charade, Jeffrey Albertson. There’s a reason we call you “Comic Book Guy” and not “Comic Book and Baseball Card Guy.” Stop living a lie. The Android’s Dungeon is no baseball-card shop and its proprietor is no baseball fan. You know it, I know it, the people of Springfield know it … and now the world knows it.