Fear the Catalyst

Jeffrey Leonard, 1987 Sportsflics

They said it couldn’t be done. No one can do consecutive posts about terrible Sportsflicks hologram cards! It’s unprecedented! Well, let me tell you something. You only get so many chances in life to do something special, and confarnit, this is my chance.

In truth, the main reason I needed to post this card is because I was seduced by Jeffrey Leonard’s emotional expression in the “face” half of this scintillating hologram. I wasn’t sure how this was going to scan so instead I took a picture of it with my iPhone. If someone would have told me 25 years ago when I was 9 and first laid eyes on this beauty, “Hey, kid, twenty-five years from now you will take a picture of this hologram baseball card with your cordless cellular phone, and then post that picture to something called the 'Internet' due to your urgent responsibility as a ‘baseball card blogger,’” I would have been like, “Whhhhaaaaaa? Cordless?!?” In ’87, the hologram was the technology. It’s amazing how far Earth has come.

Anyhoo, what do you think of all this, Jeffrey Leonard?



TAKE IT EASY.



Jeffrey, the emotional catalyst and heart of the Giants’ offense

I am trying to find an image that most encompasses the following qualities:

-Emotion
-Catalyst
-Heart

I think I found it!



is one of the most feared hitters in the league when healthy.

Let it be known that Jeffrey Leonard is one of the most feared hitters in the league … but only when he is playing baseball—not when he is not playing baseball—so please don’t go putting words in my mouth about how good Jeffrey Leonard is at playing baseball when he is in a hospital bed after having his spleen removed because, okay, I’ll admit it—HE’S NOT THAT GREAT POST-SPLEEN-OP. You happy? It should also be mentioned that Jeffrey Leonard is not really one of the most feared hitters in the league even when healthy, unless by “one of” you mean like, the “top 100 most feared hitters,” which is not a thing.

In 1987, he led the N.L. with a .364 average at the end of May

Thus taking home the coveted, “Highest Batting Average After Two Months of the Season Award.” I am going to guess, since his batting average at the end of May is mentioned as opposed to his batting average at the end of the actual season, that he tailed off after that.

He tailed off after that, but was still the key to the Giants run for the West title.

Indeed, it was Jeffrey Leonard’s emotional, catalyst-like, heart-having heart that was the key to the Giants’ West title, and most certainly not this incognito mustachioed fellow’s 35 ding-dongs and 152 OPS+.

“Jeffrey Leonard is the leader of the club,” said manager Roger Craig. “He can go 0 for 20 and he’s still an asset.

Someone who goes 0-for-20 is a liability, which is the opposite of an asset, regardless of the emotion with which they do so.

Everybody plays better when he’s on the field.”

This is true. Left-handed pitcher Atlee Hammaker openly admitted to half-assing it on days when left fielder Jeffrey Leonard was on the bench.

Wikipedia?

Leonard was known for his "one flap down" routine: running around the bases after hitting a home run with one arm hanging motionless at his side.

What the …? “One flap down?” Like if a bird hit a home run with a broken wing? That’s gangsta. Amazingly, pitchers did not take kindly to getting one flapped:

It was also during this NLCS that Leonard would draw ire for a "Cadillac" home run trot; the Cardinals felt he took a little too much time rounding the bases on his home runs, thereby showing up the pitcher. In response to this attitude, and for Leonard's repeated "one-flap down" routine of running bases, the late Cardinal pitcher Bob Forsch famously hit Leonard in the back with a fastball in fifth inning of Game 3. The St. Louis press began calling Leonard "both flaps down" after the incident.

You know what I realized? Nobody “Cadillac one flaps” anymore these days. Baseball’s changed, man.

Rick Mahorn and The Myrrdin Merlins

Why didn't I think of this earlier?
Look for more animated card art on The Baseball Card Blog,
as soon as I figure out which cards would be cool to use.

Also, why hasn't anyone done this yet?

Collector Stories

Everybody has a favorite card, or a story about how they got a particular card. Maybe you found it in a pack, or maybe at a garage sale or got it as a gift. It's your favorite because it strikes a chord with you. Maybe it's a funny card or one of a favorite player. Or maybe it was your first card you ever got, or the last one you needed to complete a set. Whatever it may be, The Baseball Card Blog wants your story. Like our Custom Cardwork Gallery page, we're going to set up a Collector Stories page.

The Collector Stories page will consist of videos (either YouTube, Vimeo, or another Web-based video-upload service that allows users to embed their video on another page) about your favorite card and how you got it.

We want to know...

Why is it your favorite card? Where did you get it? How long have you been collecting trading cards? 


We have a few guidelines for submitting videos:

1. You may have many favorites. Limit yourself to one card per video. (Yes, you can submit multiple videos!)
2. Keep it short. We won't accept videos longer than 5 minutes.
3. We respect your privacy, but please identify yourself in the video. We don't have to see your face, but tell us your first name and the city/town or state where you are.

We're doing this because favorite cards hold a special place with collectors. You might have a huge collection or a small collection. Or maybe you just want to show off a funny card you found. You don't have to have your own blog, and the card doesn't have to be made by a certain manufacturer. You may be new to collecting or have been a collector your whole life—it doesn't matter. As long as you follow our three simple guidelines, we'll post your video.

Email us a link to your video and share your story!
(We will not include your email address when we post the video.)

Blue Collargram

Gary Gaetti, 1989 Sportsflics

According to Wikipedia, Gary Gaetti was ALSO KNOWN AS “G-Man,” “Rat,” or “Zorn.” “G-Man” because the first letter of his first and last name was G; “Rat” because he was like a rat; “Zorn” because he was like a zorn. I did not look any of this information up; it’s common knowledge.

According to Sportsflics, which is a brand of baseball cards that utilizes advanced hologram technology to portray a player’s face AND swing, provided you “flic” it accordingly, Gary Gaetti was a baseball player. More:



Gary,

Sportsflics is on a first-name bases with Gary Gaetti. I used “bases” there instead of “basis” because we’re talkin’ baseball. Holla if ya’ hear me.

a hard-working, popular power hitter

Where is the love for the lazy, unpopular, singles hitter? I think these types of players are very underappreciated, and although I don’t want to take anything away from Gary Gaetti, I felt it important to mention that, as nobody else seems to want to. Thank you.

who plays impeccable defense at third base

“Impeccable” is a strange adjective when used to describe third base defense. According to Webster’s Dictionary, impeccable is defined as, let’s assume: “without peccs.” In 1986, Gary Gaetti committed 21 errors, and although I don’t think that does much to take away from his defensive prowess, I think we can all agree that amounts to some peccs. Just saying.

he was one of the fuses that lit the rocketing Twins in 1987.

“Twins, a.k.a. Rockets, rocket to World Series title thanks to figurative fuses lit by fuse player Gaetti and other fuses” was the blaring headline from the Minneapolis Star-Tribune in the fall of ’87. This begs the question: Can a team have too many fuses? I say yes. Too many fuses and all of a sudden your favorite baseball team is rocketing in circles and then crashing. Also, the players in question have to be good fuses and NOT players with a short fuse, which can often be confusing for general managers. For example, Nyjer Morgan once short-fused a minor league team on a rocket to the moon, where they remain stranded, although they have reportedly created a new game called “moonball,” which is awesome. Anyway, where were we?

“Gaetti is a blue-collar third baseman,” said teammate Roy Smalley.

Gary Gaetti brings a lunch pail with him everyday to work. Work is third base. At the end of the sixth inning, Gary opens his lunch pail and eats his lunch, which is a banana and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that his wife made, with a note that says, “Go get ‘em, Rat! I love you! Please pick up milk on your way home … smooches.” For playing third base for the Minnesota Twins, Gaetti earned, in 1989 alone, a very blue-collar $2,400,000, although he would have played for free, due to his blue-collaredness.

“He plays hard, he plays hurt. He rolls in the dirt—

I’ve heard the sentiment of a player who is willing to get his uniform dirty—to be quite honest, I have never heard of player who is openly unwilling to get his uniform dirty; pretty sure MLB has washing machines—but never have I heard of player SO blue collar that he will roll around in the dirt for the sole purpose of getting his uniform dirty, thus putting to rest any preconceived notions of him being a pretty boy.

Pre-game stretching; Gary Gaetti rolling around infield dirt …

Roy Smalley: Yo, G-Man! What are you doing over there?!

No response; Gaetti continues to roll in dirt.

Smalley: Freakin’ Zorn, man. That dude is like a rat, I swear.

Allow me to end with a poem:

He works hard, he plays hurt
He rolls in the dirt
You would think his name is Bert
He doesn’t wear a skirt
He lights my fuse.

Card Critic: 2012 Topps Heritage Review

Are those braces on Escobar's teeth?
I feel old.

This time four years ago I argued that Topps should've killed off the Heritage brand with the 2008 Heritage '59 set. I stand by that sentiment. I understand that you don't kill a cash cow, but collecting a Topps Classic 1963 set would weigh better with my definition of the word "heritage." That said, I like this year's set—with a few caveats.

One thing I have to mention right away: The Topps checklister had one final chance to honor Stan Musial. One more chance. He or she could've put a worthy Cardinal veteran like Lance Berkman in Musial's final checklist-number slot. But noooooo. You want to know who got #250? Jon Jay. No, not him. This guy. What Heritage used to get right was the practice of checklist-matching current stars to their team-themed original-set counterparts. Number 1 in the 1960 Topps set was Early Wynn of the Chicago White Sox. Number 1 of the 2009 Topps Heritage set? Mark Buerhle of the Chicago White Sox. Number 20 of the 1957 Topps set is Hank Aaron of the Milwaukee Braves. His checklist-matched counterpart in 2006 Heritage? Andruw Jones of the Atlanta Braves. I could go on, but you get the idea. There were very few heroes at the top of the Topps universe of the 1960s: Sandy Koufax, Mickey Mantle, Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, and Stan Musial. And I'm sorry, but though he may be a St. Louis Cardinal, Jon Jay is not even a cardboard stand-in for Stan Musial.

Which leads to a larger question: Did Topps abandon the checklist-matching system for 2012 Heritage? Answer: Not really. They just abandoned their standard hero-worship model. They're not matching based on ability, but by team and field position. For example, Jay Bruce is on number 400. In 1963, another Cincy outfielder had that spot—Frank Robinson. Number 348 is Miguel Cabrera, the Detroit Tigers' hard-hitting first (now third) baseman. His original-set counterpart? Vic Wertz. Pick a card at random ... number 364 Jose Tabata of the Pittsburgh Pirates. In the original set, #364 is Howie Goss of the Pittsburgh Pirates. Okay, another one, this time not from a team that was around in 1963: Desmond Jennings at #195. In 1963 that was Manny Jimenez, also an All-Star Rookie, from the KC Athletics. Milwaukee Brewers' outfielder Corey Hart is on #414. In 1963, that's Ty Cline, of the Milwaukee Braves. Very clever. It's a huge Topps checklist-history-matching in-joke.

Also, I love that players are in their new uniforms, simply because none of them appear to be blatantly Photoshopped (although most if not all have been blatantly Photoshopped). One of the few cards that looks off is Carlos Beltran's. It's not quite as bad as the old-school St. Louis airbrushings, but for some reason the Topps artists just haven't seemed to master the "STL" on a cap. But Mark Buerhle, Prince Fielder, CJ Wilson, Jed Lowrie, Michael Pineda, and others that I have seen look great. With the exception of a few cards, the maturation of airbrushing has been a boon to recent sets. It used to be that the Topps artists would try to obscure the old uniform, or break out the Cray-Pas and go to town (see the Airbrushing Invitational Rodeo I did a few years back). Now, with the sophistication of Adobe CS5, Prince Fielder on the Brewers easily transitions to Prince Fielder on the Tigers without too many hiccups.

I'm okay, for some reason, with there being variations up the wahzoo, though the specific types of variations seem lacking. Color swaps are alright, but image swaps? C'mon, that's kind of lazy. Also, super-short-printed error variations seem to taunt the average set builder, especially if it becomes generally accepted that they are part of the master set. I would've liked to see the incorporation of older players, original to the set. Maybe a Rookie Stars card featuring Bryce Harper, Jesus Montero, Nick Hagadone, and Pete Rose? That would be a variation worth chasing. 

And speaking of the Rookie Stars subset, why are the same players featured on different cards? And why do those players also warrant their own cards? Did I miss something? Is this 2003-04 Topps Basketball Rookie Matrix, or is it especially hard for a player to meet rookie status nowadays? There are so many great young players out there that it seems completely frivolous—and gives the impression that Topps doesn't really respect its customers—to showcase the same players in different permutations across multiple cards. I feel hoodwinked.

Also, I think the photography is worth a mention The original '63s have aged so well because the photography standards were higher. Kodachrome, or whatever the professional equivalent at the time, featured brilliant color and crisp images. For its Heritage line (since 2006's Heritage '57 set), Topps has tried to evoke an old-timey feel for its photography. I can't say that it's worked. Continuing with this year's set, some of the posed sideline images appear muddled, like the designers have been hitting the diffuse filter pretty hard in the color-correction process. 

Finally, the card stock feels leathery on the back. If you put a card under a microscope and magnified the back so that you got down to the very fiber, would it be thatched? It feels as if this would be true.

Overall, I'm excited for this set. It suffers a little out of the gate with the needless carousel of rookies and the muddy photos, but it gets points for the clever checklisting nods and for the (generally) clean airbrushing.

Oh, and one more thing: These cards don't stink like Sex Panther cologne, like the 2012 Topps flagship product does. They smell like baseball cards should smell, despite the lack of gum in the pack.

(RIP indestructible, disgusting Topps gum)

Juan 'Busy/Disgusto' Agosto

Juan Agosto, 1991 Score

I am too busy for an intro. Go:



Juan has been the busiest pitcher in the major leagues over the past three seasons as he has led everyone in appearances.

Far be it from me to question the busy nature of another person, but in 1990, Dave Stewart, who unhappily finished third in the Cy Young vote that year, pitched 267 innings. That same year, Juan Agosto, “busiest man in baseball,” pitched 92.1 innings. Granted, there was a lot of, (Monday) “Juan! Get out this lefty!” and (Tuesday) “Juan! I know you got that lefty out yesterday, but I need you to do it again today!” and (Wednesday) “Juan, warm up in case something happens! False alarm; we’re cool. Wait! Juan! Get out this lefty again!” and during this entire span of being busy, Dave Stewart has been sitting on his butt, “resting” from pitching (Sunday) nine innings of 3-hit ball in which his pitch count was 173. So who was “busier?” Impossible to say. Dave Stewart is the answer.

With only a month to go in ’90, he was ahead of the pack in both leagues with 68.

This is a reiteration of how busy Juan Agosto has been, in case you missed it the first time. Although this reads weird to me. Shouldn’t this read, “With still a month to go in ’90, he was already ahead of the pack in both leagues with 68”? I don’t know, maybe I’m over thinking the correct literary clarifications of Juan Agosto’s workload again. Nevertheless, just remember—the next time some jerkbag condescendingly asks you, “At the end of August of the year 1990, what pitcher led Major League Baseball in appearances?” you can easily shut him up in the face. Being able to answer those type of random, hypothetical trivia questions that no sane person would ever ask is what makes owning baseball cards completely worth it.

Okay, so we know that Juan Agosto, pitcher, pitched a lot. But the question remains: Did he know how to wear a hat?



Debatable. I have been staring at Juan Agosto’s hat for, pretty much, the entirety of the morning, and it just keeps getting bigger. It seems as though this hat was made with 50% more material than the average baseball hat, and Juan Agosto was just like, “Give me that hat. I’m too busy to consider other hats.” I don’t know, maybe I’m over thinking Juan Agosto’s hat again.

Anyway, what else? How about you, Wikipedia?

When he struggled pitching for Chicago, Agosto was often called “Juan Disgusto.”

Chicago wit. I mean, he was pretty much asking for it with a name like “Agosto,” which I often confuse with the word “disgusting.” I mean, in the defense of White Sox fans, if you can’t reserve your angst and wrath for your busy lefty reliever who posted a ghastly 3.87 ERA while with your team, then whom can you call “Disgusto?” Greg Luzinski? No. Although, I guess, “Greg Luzstinky” would work. Ha, ha … stinky.

The Heritagical Zipper

I've always liked the Heritage inserts from 1992 and 1993 Donruss Studio, but never really found any in my packs. Today I found five from the 1992 set in the quarter bin at my local shop, including this excellent card of Cal Ripken Jr. donning this "historical" zip-up Cooperstown Collection varsity jacket retailing at the O's team shop at Camden Yards for $139.95—uh, priceless original, probably game-used, yeah, game-used uniform of the St. Louis Browns.

Let's say you were in charge of one of the most compelling insert sets of the year, and you had two options: work the phones, pull some strings, and get real honest-to-goodness old, original uniforms for the superstars to don, or... see if the Sports Authority is open and go down there with your camera, the smokey backdrop you found whilst dumpster-diving behind the Sears, and a few guys in tow.


Hey Cal, just hide the tags on that zip-up replica jersey, we probably only got one shot at this before security comes.

Topps 2012: The Sex Panther of Baseball Cards

I just bought my first packs of the year—scratch that. I just bought my first packs of any year since 2008. And though I only did it to get back in a pack-buying mood as we inch closer to the Heritage drop date, I'm left with one question: Do all new cards smell this bad? Or did a masked, anonymous rival sneak into the Topps plant in the middle of the night and douse the drying sheets of this year's cards with Sex Panther? Because I will tell you something, my friend: These cards reek.

I'm not saying they're ugly—in terms of attractiveness they're in the middle of the pack. I'm saying they smell so bad that I'm going to have to keep them in a hermetically sealed container... or at least a Ziploc bag. Right now the cards are in a pile next to the computer, and I'm starting to feel a little woozy just sitting here as I type this post.

Actually, you know what I thought of when I opened these packs? First, I thought of that cheap incense college kids buy when they're trying to overpower the smell of marijuana. Then I thought of Susan dying on Seinfeld from licking too many cut-rate, toxic envelopes, and how that will be me if I keep opening these packs.

[Dons surgical mask]

Now on to the cards themselves. The design is just okay, nothing special. In fact, because of the overwhelming use of white in the design, the photos barely register. The back is boring, and the team name is not entirely legible, with matte silver text over a futuristic two-tone gradient. Also, the statistician made a huge blooper when they chose to use a "W" twice in the stat line for pitchers—once for Wins, and once for Walks. What, "BB" was too staid, too old fashioned for walks?

And as for inserts, besides the nice '87 mini throwbacks, I'm sensing a theme centered around the word gold. We got the Golden Giveaway, Gold Standards, Gold Futures, Golden Greats, Golden Moments... and what are these Timeless Talents and Classic Walk-Offs? I think we should rename them Golden Talents and Golden Gold-Golds.

Finally, no autographs in my seven packs, but let me just say this: no set centered around the word "gold" is complete without a quad signature card of Bea Arthur, Estelle Getty, Rue McClanahan, and Betty White. Part of me really wants to see a YouTube clip of an insanely happy guy in his mid-forties busting a box of Topps 2012 and finding this card before passing out from the noxious stink.

And the other part of me just wants to watch Anchorman.

The Toppslopedia

I've been interested in checklisting for a few years now. Back in 2007, Dayf at Cardboard Junkie and I created a "fan set" using the Topps sets from 1980 to 1989 that we dubbed The 792. Clocking in at, yes, 792 cards, it featured the "best" card at each checklist number, choosing from the ten sets from the Topps 80s. It was a fun exercise, with the end product being a "new" best-of set that any collector could put together, cards 1 through 792, for under $150. [I will post a complete checklist of The 792 soon.]

This time I'm shooting a little larger. I'm a fan of the Alphabetical Checklist book that Beckett published about 10 years ago, and flipping through it got me thinking about those players who only appeared on one card (Like John Doherty in 1975 Topps). I'm also getting tired of the idea of collecting every set, or every card of a certain player. What about just one card… but of every player? 

I'm in the process of putting together what I'm calling the Toppslopedia, an alphabetic roll-call containing every player who ever appeared on a Topps card, with year and checklist number. With the exception of those players who only appeared on one card, I didn't necessarily choose a player's rookie year or last year, or even best year (all Topps concepts over the years). Instead I just chose a random card. I didn't include combo cards or all-star cards or even team cards. I did, however, include other subsets where players appeared individually, like All-Time Greats (1976), Record Breakers, Turn Back the Clock (1977), and Highlights. 

Conceivably a collector could put this "set" together, but I'm more interested in the comprehensiveness of a project like this.

I've done the 1970s and am halfway done with the 1950s. I'm planning on doing individually checklists for each decade, from the 1950s through to the 2000s, then a comprehensive, 60-year checklist when each decade's is complete. Then I will post it as a shared Google document, so anyone can access it. 

Surprisingly, for all their merchandising of their back catalogue, Topps has never done anything like this before. No coffee-table book, no special collector's set, nothing. I would love to see a large full-color hard cover like the Topps Baseball Cards: 1951–1990 book that I have, and though detractors may say that the Toppslopedia is just a different permutation of that book, I disagree. Instead of overwhelming the reader with every card ever made, it's a more intimate facebook. Because the population is much smaller than 30,000, or whatever the total individual cards add up to from all those sets, there's more space for stories or blurbs about a selection of the players, from one-card wonders like Bob Strampe and peripheral guys like Rick Sweet, to solid guys like Ralph Garr, perennial all-stars like Orlando Cepeda, and baseball lifers like Alvin Dark.

But because the likelihood of Topps doing anything suggested by a fan is slim to none, I should find a way to get this online as a searchable, browsable database and gallery. Maybe as a separate blog? Or a full-fledged Web site? Or as a part of the Baseball Cardpedia? 

As I mentioned above, I'll make the list available as a Google spreadsheet when it's finished.

Rule No. 5: Never Bet on Choo

Jon Nunnally, 1996 Score

Here is a cool (?) card of baseball player Jon Nunnally displaying what appears to be mild frustration at, prolly, striking out. This is part of Score’s famous “Dugout Collection ’96,” and the reason I know this is because the famous “Dugout Collection ‘96” logo is smack dab in the middle of the words I am attempting to read on the back.

Most of the time wh



I feel like whoever made the decision to put this logo here in that font should be fired. I realize this is from ’96, and that whoever was responsible for this has most likely moved on to other things, but what I am saying is that this person, wherever he or she is, should be fired from their current job right this second. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. How am I supposed to make fun of words I cannot read?

It’s a darn good thing I own an absurdly large magnifying glass for this specific reason.

Most of the time when a player is selected in the Rule 5 draft, he sits on the bench for the year absorbing baseball wisdom or is sent back to his original team.

Rule 5 draft day, ‘95

GM1: I’m looking for a guy, ideally a baseball player, who can sit on the bench and absorb baseball wisdom.

GM2: Well, you came to the right place. Billy McNoName over there (points to blank draft board) is like a freakin’ sponge. I’m looking for a guy who we can immediately send back to the team we got ‘em from.

GM1: No doubt, no doubt. Hey, lemme ask you something: What the hell are we doing here?

But Jon, who was drafted from the Indians, is the exception to the norm.

Awesome! Why?

His first major-league hit in ’95 was a home run,

Cancel the Rule 5 draft, everyone. Jon Nunnally, Rule 5 draftee, just hit a home run in his first at-bat, putting him on pace to hit 1,000 home runs in what will surely be an illustrious, award-filled career. Who does this guy think he is, hitting baseballs before absorbing the adequate baseball wisdom?

the 70th player in history to achieve this exhilarating feat

If you have 70 fingers on one hand and it is 1996, then you can count on one hand how many players have felt the pure exhilaration that comes from hitting a ding-dong in their first major league at-bat. That is a pretty exclusive club. Let’s call it CLUB EXHILARATION; cover is $12, girls in free on Saturday night.

According to Wikipedia, in 2005, Nunnally tested positive for steroids, and received a 15-game suspension. The Cleveland Indians were like, “Whatevs. Wanna be our hitting coach?” And Nunnally was like, “Word,” (these are not direct quotes), which ultimately led to his dismissal as hitting coach in 2011, and this surprisingly lengthy piece about the firing of an Indians hitting coach. Here is my favorite part:

“I don't know what's going on," Choo said. "It's not like we're in last place; we're in first place. There's a lot of season left. I'm just sad that he's not around us anymore. This is very disappointing. I feel very bad about it. He helped me. He helped everybody."

Choo did not help Nunnally's cause this season. He entered Sunday hitting .237 with five homers and 25 RBI.

Burn! Take that, Choo! You don’t know what’s going on? What’s going is that you got your popular hitting coach fired because you can’t hit anymore. Oh, you feel sad AND bad? How do think Nunnally feels? Probably sad, bad, and maybe even mad, at YOU, for costing him his job. I hope you can sleep at night.

Here was the headline I had submitted at the time of the controversy:

Tribe waxed, Nunnally axed, Choo sad, not glad

It did not get used.

1959 Topps Fence Busters (Malone–Ness)

What can I say? It's a card that should exist—Elliot Ness and Jim Malone: professional fence busters. And for a dollar? Cheap!

1969 Topps Astro-Nautical All-Stars

1969 Topps Buzz Aldrin All-Star #428

1969 Topps Neil Armstrong All-Star #426

Thumbing through the vintage bin at my local shop last weekend, I found some great old Red Sox (Gary Roggenburk!, Joe Foy!). I also finally got my mitts on these two 1969 All-Stars: Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin. You know, I never thought about it, but what's really weird about these cards is that the background photos reference the moon landing from 1969, but these cards were part of the fifth series, which must've been released right after the landing on July 20th. It's like Topps knew it was going to happen! The moon-landing-is-a-hoax conspiracy net grows ever wider!

(Buzz Aldrin, please don't sue me.)

Playing Through

See you at the 19th hole, Norm.

The Future Was Burright, And Then

I wanted to write about this card because not only does Larry have a big ol' chaw of tobacco in his cheek and it looks like a paper airplane got stuck in his hair, but his action shot is definitely fixin' to creep up all slow like on that there raccoon and kill him some dinner. Hell, his nickname was Possum. But that was before I found his full career stats on Baseball Reference.

Sure, he looks optimistic, scanning the stands for blondes, contemplating when he should re-shave the line from his hairline to the bridge of his nose, but let's get one thing straight right away. Before the baseball gods built Mario Mendoza to remind man that hitting a baseball is hard, they needed a prototype. And his name was Larry Burright. And he was bad.

In 1961, after performing well at the Double AA level, he was promoted to Triple AAA and celebrated by connecting for just 2 hits in 52 plate appearances. And for his struggle, he was rewarded with a trip to the big time. I'm not sure what the Dodger brass was thinking, except maybe Junior Gilliam was getting a little too creaky-kneed or something, but Burright didn't exactly light it up. I don't have it in me to sugar-coat Larry's futility at the plate. I'll leave that to the Topps copywriter:

During the first half of the 1962 campaign, Larry was one of the N.L.'s top 10 batters.

Really? He finished the season with a .205 average. In all actuality, his fall down the leaderboard was fairly spectacular. Burright knocked the cover off the ball in May as the Dodgers' starting shortstop, cresting as high as .375 on May 20. Too bad the season didn't end there. On June 2, he was hitting .324. And then the bottom fell out: Burright did not get another base hit until June 30, finishing up the month with a .248 average. By July 28 he was at .214, and from the beginning of August until the end of the year, he was pretty much a late-innings defensive replacement, coasting in at .205.

On top of being a terrible hitter, Burright was not too great when it mattered defensively: his error in the top of the ninth inning of the one-game play-off against the Giants allowed a run to score and turned a close game into a hopeless situation for the Dodgers. Or as the Topps copywriter put it:

He has good range and makes difficult plays look easy.


Uh... let me re-write that blurb for you:

What started as a stellar 1962 campaign as the Dodgers' everyday shortstop crashed and burned in spectacular fashion, like a slow-motion train wreck. 

Babe Ruth is Not My Doppelgänger

What if you looked like a famous person, someone known the world over? Would you spend your days sipping mixed drinks by the pool, charging everything to the real Carrot Top's tab? Or possibly signing glossy 8x10s to enthusiastic diner owners, hoping for free sandwiches?

When I look in the mirror, I only see Ben looking back. No big deal. My coworkers don't do double-takes when I walk to the copier. 

But Gary Nolan Circa 1974? Gary Nolan Circa 1974 has the same rosy-cherub face as Babe Ruth Circa 1918. And if I didn't know that Nolan was, in fact, a real person, I might believe you if you told me that this photo was part of an elaborate practical joke played on Sparky Anderson—a wax figure of the Babe done up in a sporty wig and Cincinnati jersey, posed in front of a locker, the athlete's natural habitat.

I hope Gary used his uncanny resemblance to the Babe to his advantage. I'm talking about free artery-clogging food, free beer, free cigars, poorly thought-out endorsement deals, lots of showgirls, getting his stomach pumped on the train between Cincinnati and Pittsburgh, and generally carrying on with a devil-may-care attitude and little regard for his long-term health—like any celebrity doppelgänger should. I mean, who would squander a free pass to push a piano into a pond? 

Not me, my friend. Not me.

Fun fact I learned on the back of this card: Gary's full name is Gary Lynn Nolan. Can you name another famous baseball player with a similar name? That's right: Lynn Nolan Ryan. So really, Gary should change his name to Gary Lynn Nolan Ryan. Or better yet, let's start a petition for him to change it to Gary Fred Lynn Nolan Ryan. 

I bet we could get like a million signatures.