Mattingly Month: A Final Motif

Don Mattingly, 1991 Coca-Cola series

The artist’s rendition of Donald Arthur Mattingly is risky business. How does one adequately capture the Picasso of baseball without access to Picasso himself? It is a conundrum, indeed. Better, I believe, to merely fantasize about such a task than attempt to execute it. Then again, if you have a bunch of Coca-Cola money to throw at some self-proclaimed artistic genius, then, as they say in the art world, “go nuts, yo.”

This is okay, I guess. I’m no art critic, but I like the way they shaded it and stuff. I suppose I like it enough to have purchased the original painting back in 1993 after taking out a $30,000 loan at 15.7% interest. I then placed the portrait in a 6’X10’ 14-karat gold frame—separate loan; what was I going to do, laminate it? Please—and it currently rests on the living room wall of my home over our fireplace. We don’t have a fireplace, but every time you look in Mattingly’s eyes, the wall beneath lights ablaze.

I would also like to mention that Don Mattingly was no shill to corporate suits! With so many companies and individuals striving to pay him homage, it’s doubtful he was even aware of this exclusive set of Coca-Cola sponsored baseball cards that bore his image, likeness, and biographical information. That, or he firmly, 100% believed in the quality and healthy attributes of Coca-Cola soft drinks. It is true that he could often be found quenching his thirst with the smooth taste of Coca-Cola after making a familiar and casual trot around the base paths. As Mattingly once said, allegedly, “Water is for plants and Gatorade is for communists.”



Evansville, Indiana, home of Yankee all-star first baseman and Mattinglys’ 23 Restaurant and Lounge—world famous for its exciting sports motif and hospitality since opening August 12, 1987.

A few things: a) That is not a sentence. b) Wrong apostrophe placement. c) ? d) Do you think they sell Coca-Cola at this restaurant? e) World famous? World. Earth? They’re talking about Don Mattingly’s Evansville, Indiana-based restaurant in Istanbul (not Constantinople)? f) “And Lounge?” I imagine you can take the entire family there for a round of “Mattingly manwhiches,” rid yourselves of the children somehow and then retire with your wife to the back room, where you can both light one up and enjoy the smooth sounds of Ron Phogarty, jazz saxophonist and cover artist of “Centerfield” and other baseball-related tunes. g) Circa 1991:

Person: Hey, where are you guys headed this summer?

Other person: Evansville, Indiana!

Person: Oh. Did someone die?

Other person: What? No! We’re all going as a family to experience Don Mattingly’s 23 Restaurant and Lounge!

Person: Wait—is that the place with the exciting sports motif and wonderful hospitality that opened on August 12, 1987?

Other person: Hells bells!

Person: Awesome! Do you think Don Mattingly will be there?

Other person: Probably not. He’s playing baseball.

Person: Still!

Other person: I know! We’ll probably run into some major dignitaries there though, as the place is world famous. I’m trying to learn how to say, “Try the waffle fries” in Mandarin, in case I see their Prime Minister or something. Why, where are you guys going?

Person: San Diego. Probably head to the San Diego Zoo, go to the beaches, water parks, whatever.

Other person: No offense, but I feel like you can do that anywhere.

Person: Wasn’t my idea. Hey, can you bring me back some motif?

Don Mattingly: Non-Standard

The non-standard issued sized baseball card always drove me nuts growing up. What am I supposed to do with this giant baseball card? How am I supposed to keep track of this mini-baseball card? These are the things that bothered me when I was nine.

When it came to Don Mattingly, however, baseball cards of varying sizes did not perturb me. In fact, he was so much the non-standard player in terms of his otherworldly ability, I thought the non-standard size card captured that aspect perfectly. That companies made similar cards for other players was the glaring error.

Let us begin with the big:


Don Mattingly, 1985 Donruss oversized

I’m not sure how well this comes across on the Interwebs, but this card is gigantic. When I was in grammar school, I happily boasted a Mattingly ’88 Topps folder, which is exactly what you imagine it to be, and which I used to keep my school papers, which were, by the way, frequently studied and well-graded, as I strived for the excellence consistently achieved by the man on the folder. Anyway, this card is almost as big as that folder, for reference. It is in poor condition because, again—they didn’t make enormous binders or casings for these cards, and it often fell victim to mishandlings and awkward placement among its normal-sized counterparts. I once considered placing this particular card in a picture frame for both protection purposes as well as adoration, but then I couldn’t see the back. :(

Two things of note: 1) I am a sucker for the headshot inset, especially one outlined in a halo of white, in which the look of our hero says, “I don’t know why you’re taking my picture—I’m just doing my job; .343/23/110 in my first full season was really just baseballs finding holes—but I’ll oblige.”

Also, this:



CONTRACT STATUS
Signed thru 1985

Steinbrenner: Alright, let’s not beat around the bush here, Don. You just had 211 hits—35 of them home runs—and drove in freakin’ 145. Your defense is flawless and you could run for mayor of this city tomorrow and win in a landslide similar to the one that just witnessed you win the AL MVP. You’re 24. I know when I don’t have leverage, so just tell me—what do you want?

Mattingly: Oh geez, Boss. I mean, I really just want the chance to go out there and compete day in and da—

Steinbrenner: For crying out loud, Don, CUT THE CRAP! I got things to do! I’m on Winfield’s trail—Hank, GET YOUR GREASY HANDS OFF THE DESK!—so just give me a number!

Mattingly: Eight billion, 20 years.

Steinbrenner: Fine, whatever. But you gotta cut those sideburns.

Mattingly: It’s a side mullet. And no.

Steinbrenner: Deal. Get out.


Don Mattingly, 1988 Topps-mini

This is a mini card. Isn’t it cute? The dream-sequence nature and glossy texture make it something straight out of mini-heaven.



This “Major League Leaders” card then goes on to list several categories that Don Mattingly did not lead the league in. I am sure they recognized, as do I, that “general awesomeness” should be a concrete statistic, and thus awarded him leader-status and the spoils that go with it, which, in this case, is a mini baseball card. The headshot inset is fantastic. But not as fantastic as …

Don Mattingly, 1988 Topps special




In a word: breathtaking.

This is when Topps started producing—like they would with Bowman—baseball cards that were just slightly bigger than normal, allowing children the all over the world the convenience of having baseball cards that were just slightly bigger than normal, and which stuck out of the ends of binder sleeves and casings and got bent and ruined. In this series, Topps made up for it with cartoons:



I love the notion that when a record is broken, the record book wherein the details of that record are contained is dramatically smashed, via the very means by which that record was achieved. I believe all records should be broken in this manner. Remember the Guinness record of the two fattest identical twins to ride motorcycles? They should have totally run over with their motorcycles the record book containing the information about the previously fattest identical twins to ride motorcycles.

(By the way, in order to provide you the link to that picture, I Googled “guinness record fat twins motorcycles.” I just wanted you to know that. Also, they made a great cameo on “The Simpsons” once, fyi.)

We also discover that Mattingly’s brother Randy played professional football, and that he either scored a touchdown or had a game referee outwardly cheering for him. I can’t really blame the referee—it’s impossible to be objective in the face of Mattingly athletic prowess. To wit: my life.

Because It Should Exist: 1966 Topps #424 Reds Rookies (May/Brezhnev)

In classic Topps fashion, Brezhnev is pictured here after making the team in the previous two years. Lee May turned out to be pretty good, too.

Topps SNL Archives - Sell Sheets

Looks like we may have jumped the gun on collecting this set. This morning I stopped by the card shop where I purchased my 1st pack of SNL Archives. When I asked the owner if he had any more packs, he gave me a nasty look.

Turns out, he received his boxes early. The release date isn't until July 20th. He got an email warning from Topps threatening (in his words), "Legal action and all sorts of bad sh**," if he sells any more before the release date.

I have been a good customer of (shop name removed) in (city name removed) for quite some time. The owner, (name removed), is a great guy, and has tremendous ethics. He said to come back after the release date, and he would promise to keep the price the same. 

I would have been really disappointed, but he did give me the sell sheet for the set. It is one page (front and back) that is torn on one edge. I asked him if there was another page. He said that he wasn't sure, but would ask his daughter and let me know.

Thankfully, the owner of a less reputable shop, (shop name removed), was more than eager to take my money. He wanted to charge me double the SRP ($8 a pack!), so I only bought two.

I got a couple of great cards in the packs, so I don't feel too bad about paying so much. I'll post them soon, but until then...

SNL Archives Sell Sheet

(front)

(back)



I hope Ben was able to score some more packs out on the east coast. 

Topps SNL Archives - Pack 3

My scanner came back to last tonight, so as promised, here's more of the Saturday Night Live Archives I picked up earlier this week.

Pack 3

 SNL Archives #5 - Jon Lovitz

SNL Archives #96 - Louise Lasser - BANNED

From the file of Things I Didn't Know: Louise Lasser was the first host to be banned from Saturday Night Live after she appeared completely incoherent on a 1976 broadcast. Good for Topps for highlighting the bad-weird along with the good-weird.

SNL Archives #49 - Elliot Gould - ERROR (!?!)

I'm only guessing that this card of Elliott Gould is an error, since his name is spelled wrong, but you never know. It could just be that the Topps copywriter and crack team of proofreaders missed it. I've checked out eBay and a lot of auctions are calling this an error, but it could be like the 2007 Jeter/Mantle/Bush card—an "error" that was only "corrected" to sell the factory set.

SNL Archives #106 - Nick Summers

I like that this set includes character cards. It's an endearing quirk. And one that makes me think there's a Buckwheat card out there somewhere!

 SNL Archives #89 - "Merry Christmas - My D*ck in a Box"

OK, the very idea of a Saturday Night Live set suggests mild profanity, but really? Topps is going all-out for the street cred here, printing the full title of this SNL Digital Short. Got to hand it to them on this one. It also looks like Andy Samberg is a star of this set; so far two out of the three packs have contained a card of him.

 

SNL Archives #60 - Chevy Chase

I read somewhere that Chase was so hated by the other cast members that he got himself literally kicked off the show in 1976. Personally, I think he's hilarious in the "pompous, clueless ass" role he's been typecast in for almost his whole career. Nice to see the Topps checklister give him his due with a 2nd Tier number.

I have one more pack lined up for sometime this weekend. I know I've said it before, but this set is just plain awesome. I'm already putting together three sets right now (1956 Topps, 1961 Fleer, 1977 Topps), but this might add itself to that list.

Don Mattingly: Not the Illusion Hologram Implied

Don Mattingly, 1986 SportsFlics

My 1986 Don Mattingly Triple Action Sportsflics card is certainly not the rarest Mattingly card I own, but it is by far the most durable. A great portion of my childhood was spent painstakingly trying to keep my Don Mattingly cards in pristine and mint condition—admiring them in hand and constantly transferring them from binder to binder, plastic cover to plastic cover, did me no favors in this endeavor, minus the pure, innocent, and youthful enjoyment it provided the deepest parts of my baseball-loving soul—but I never had to worry about my Sportsflics card. It was thicker than the sheetrock used to construct the walls of my parents home, and you could run it over with giant spiked tires and it would still look like it did coming out of the pack—that look being blurry and confusing.

I wasn’t sure how this would scan to the ol’ Internet, but even the best scan could not do justice to the magnificence of this card. Like Slusarski, except a million times better, this is “Mattingly in Three Parts:” 1) in his stance and ready to pounce, 2) post-pouncing with his beautiful stride—a Ride-and-Stride even future teammate Matt Nokes would envy—2) and an extreme close-up headshot in which his unparalleled mustache has never looked finer and more lush, which is only faintly visible here, as if a giant-headed and strikingly handsome ghost is watching a Yankee game. Whoever said that 1980s sports-card hologram technology could not stand the test of time—I think it was Mr. Wizard? Pfftt—was wrong.



Don, one of the best players

"Don, one of the best players" I strive for accuracy here.

in the majors — young or old —

That is so … weird. I don’t know why someone would feel the need to mention something like this even in passing, much less make it stand out in between hyphens. It’s as if there was a raging debate at the time: Can young players be the best players? Can old players be the best players? This debate alone bucked the traditional thinking that only exactly middle-aged-by-baseball-standards players could be the best players, therefore by which a 28-year old Spike Owen belonged in the discussion; a 36-year old Nolan Ryan did not. Don Mattingly, by being so undeniably awesome at the not that young age of 24, finally put the debate to rest.

was named the 1985 A.L. MVP. He tore apart the league

And my heart. By never responding to multiple personal requests to coach my Little League team and make me an honorable Yankee batboy, or shortstop.

as he finished first in RBIs

And my heart.

doubles, extra-base hits, total bases and game-winning RBIs (21)

Game-winning RBI are sort of fluky, but: !!!

Don also is an outstanding first baseman who has excellent range and moves in the field.

First base isn’t exactly a haven for physical self-expression, and to say that he had excellent “moves in the field” makes it sound as though he could often be found doing the Roger Rabbit in between innings or roboting his way to the first base after scooping up a routine grounder (by letting it roll up his leg, into the air, and catching it in his hat). Now, I’m not saying that Donnie couldn’t do these things—of course he could—he would just never show up the competition like that. Although I think that would have worked well in a hologram.

Topps SNL Archives: Pack 2

I haven't done a pack break in a while. But then again, my local shop was sold out of SNL Archives the last time I was there. This time, I called ahead and had him hold some for me. I only had a $10 on me when I stopped after work yesterday, so I only got a few packs. And, of course, my scanner's on the fritz, so I could only scan in the first pack. I'll post the other packs later this week.

Pack 2

181 - Christopher Guest

167 - "Lazy Sunday"

11 - Original Cast

  

191 - The Clash

72 - Jay Pharoah

 

27 - The Coneheads

Pretty sweet-looking cards. despite the needless gigantic "SNL Archives 2011" stamp. The images are a little grainy, but that's Topps for you. They probably pulled the images off a YouTube video or something. Anyways, I'm digging the card of The Clash. I had read that they included a few musicians. Awesome that they picked a photo of Joe Strummer rocking a mohawk. I'm also a fan of the year-specific imagery; they obviously did their homework.

Mattingly > Textbook

Don Mattingly, 1988 "CMC"?

This is part of a Limited Edition set of Don Mattingly cards that I purchased somewhere, at some time, for an undisclosed sum of money that I handed over in cash, in a bag with a dollar sign on it, to an obese, 45-year old baseball card dealer at a flea market card show. You can tell it’s a “Limited Edition” by the words “Limited Edition” in elegant cursive—pure class—that are present on each and every card, so as never to forget. It is a limited edition set, of course, in that they did not make an infinite supply of sets which they are still currently producing, which makes this set no different than every set of baseball cards ever.

Truth be told, this set is freaking awesome. It is so simple; the pictures are fantastic—look at that swing! No, LOOK. AT. THAT. SWING!!!—and the write-ups on the back are as direct, unassuming, and to the point as the man himself. One of the greatest birthday gifts I ever received—besides his ’84 Topps rookie; thanks again, Aunt Carol!—was a small, Yankee-pinstriped baseball card binder with a No. 23 on the front. The first thing I did was place this entire set into that binder, and I would page through it approximately 18 times per day, all the while marveling at my good fortune. I am not absolutely certain what happened to that binder, but I have a faint memory of the cover fading to a point where I thought it was disrespectful to Donnie Baseball for me to continue to own it, and I’m pretty sure it was buried in my backyard after a 20-minute ceremony followed by refreshments.



In this shot, Don displays the textbook swing—

I think even a textbook would be like, “This swing is too perfect to include in my pages. It’s just not realistic to expect one of my readers to be able to execute something like this. In fact, forget baseball. I will be about … the Civil War.”

Some people think you have to be a big muscle man to hit major league pitching,

Who thinks that? Honestly? I don’t know anybody who thinks that or who has ever thought that. Yogi Berra was 4-foot, 3-inches tall and hit 800 home runs, and that was in 1889—fact.

but at six foot and 175 pounds

According to a Harvard-based 1986 study, the overwhelming version of the idealistic American man is one who is six feet tall and 175 pounds, with a mustache, who grew up in the Midwest and who is an athlete.

Don is proof that baseball is a mechanical game

And a mechanic.

“The main thing for me is to hit the ball as hard as I can. If I go 0-for-4,

Never happened.

but hit the ball hard, I know good things will come.”

The modesty is simultaneously admirable and infuriating. Don Mattingly’s average OPS + from 1984-through-1986 was 158. Awww, shucks—I was just trying to hit the ball hard. Let me take it from here, Donnie …

“I am the greatest baseball player in the world and the prototypical man. Look at my swing. Breathe it in. There will never be another like me. The 175 pounds is all lean muscle. I only fear my back may eventually give out from carrying this suddenly dormant franchise. Until then, enjoy the clinic.” – Me, as Don Mattingly for a day, in 1987

Awesome Set: Topps SNL Archives™

Let's face it: it's been a long time since Topps put out a great Archives set. 1991 saw the re-issuance of the fabulous 1953 baseball set as "The Ultimate 1953 Set." Topps also put out a "Rookie Years" basketball Archives set in 1992-93 to celebrate their re-entrance into basketball cards, featuring rookie-year designs for players debuting between 1982 and 1991 using the baseball designs from those years.

These two sets were followed by "The Ultimate 1954 Set" in 1994 (sans Ted Williams, under contract at the time with Upper Deck), and then a spate of sets including Archives Reserve, Best Years, and Fan Favorites during the early 2000s. Topps Heritage and Topps 52 Edition sort of picked up where Archives left off by putting modern players in Topps designs of the past, but as great as those sets are, it's really not the same thing.

That's why it's so awesome that the company's finally bringing back the Archives brand with a new twist: the classic characters, musicians, writers and performers of Saturday Night Live in the designs from their debut years on the show. I have to say it's ingenious. Remember that regrettable SNL set that Star Pics put out back in the early 1990s? Ugh, that thing was hideous. But now with gold-foil embossing, short prints, thick card stock, and not to mention every performer ever since 1975 (!) ... I'm going to have to find the sell sheet on this set, because the stuff they were going on about sounded fantastic.

Travis and I have been talking this set up with each other for weeks now, since I read about it in April's Card Trade. While he was on vacation he found a pack and shared the scans with me. Here they are, with pack wrapper.

 SNL Archives #1 - Lorne Michaels

 SNL Archives #30 - Dennis Miller

  SNL Archives #104 - Toonces The Driving Cat

 SNL Archives #120 - Chris Farley (SP)

SNL Archives #133 - Father Guido Sarducci

SNL Archives #187 - Michaela Watkins

I have to say it's pretty spectacular for Travis to pull the Farley short print in his first pack, considering that there are only six cards per pack. I also read somewhere that there are variations lurking in the checklist. Let's hope that they're not as inane as the "pie in the face" Yankees from 2010 Topps.

Mattingly Month ... Go

When I began doing the “classic card” write-ups for my blog many years ago, I, quite obviously, was using “classic” in the sarcastic sense. The point was to highlight the silliness and oftentimes bizarre nature of the cards that occupied shoeboxes as opposed to binders, and featured the more obscure players of the 80s and early 90s. This, for what it's worth, has been revealed as my life’s calling.

The reason I own of all these crappy cards is because once upon a time, like many still valiantly do, I took my baseball card-collecting very, very seriously, and the acquisition of these cards was a mere byproduct of my search for greater ones, of which I valued with my heart and soul. I remember in those dark, mysterious hours when I would imagine worst-case scenarios, the loss of my card-collection was prominently involved. Our house is on fire? Grab my cards! Who cares about my sister?! She has legs!

My quest, however, was not to have the best, most diverse, or even most expensive collection. No. My quest was only: Don Mattingly cards.

I differ from exactly no Yankee fan of my generation in my undying love for Mattingly, which continues unabashedly to this day, although with a sprinkle of realism and perspective that was absent from my youth. My favorite player from my favorite team, who encompassed every quality we value as baseball fans and as young men, I couldn’t have been prouder or more certain that Don Mattingly was the best player in the game.

Thusly, I wanted all of his baseball cards. Mostly I wanted the obscure ones—’88 Topps All-Star? Bit#%, please; I have 39 of those—which I often found at card shows. I remember my dad’s friend warning me in those years not to put all of my eggs in one basket, as if Mattingly wasn’t so obviously on an uninterrupted collision course with G.O.A.T. status. My friends, as friends do, were happy to take advantage of my soft spot for Donnie Baseball during trades. None of this bothered me because, remember—my quest was only Don Mattingly cards. Diversifying my portfolio was of no concern, and cost, relatively speaking for a boy who made $7-10 per lawn, was not an issue, and so what if Mattingly, through some unforeseen accident or ailment that had nothing to do with his work ethic or God-given talent, did not achieve a Ruthian level of greatness. My love was unconditional, and all of this was irrelevant.

With that in mind, may I proudly introduce you to the first installment of “Mattingly Month”—my humble quest to present to you several pieces of my priceless collection. Now, with regards to my penchant for a light-hearted and faux-cynical take on baseball cards and the players featured on them, I must tread carefully here, lest I offend my greatest baseball hero, who totally, I firmly believe, reads this blog.

I start at the most logical place: our nation’s most popular chocolate-production company.


Don Mattingly, 1988 Nestle Foods Corporation

The “we cannot show the actual team logo due to copyright standards” will never, ever, ever fail to amuse the heck out of me. (It’s especially awesome during commercials.) I mean, really? Nestle and Major League Baseball can’t sit down at a table and iron something out that doesn’t witness Don Mattingly playing for “the blue team?” It says right there he plays for the Yankees. Everybody knows he plays for the Yankees. You wouldn’t be printing this card if he didn’t achieve some level of notoriety with some organization—why are you pretending that organization doesn’t exist? THE YANKEES ARE NOT GENERIC AND YOU MADE MATTINGLY LOOK LIKE A FREAKIN’ UMPIRE!!! I am not upset, really. Deep breath … I am fine.

Also, look at how handsome he is! He is so handsome.



Regarded by many as the finest player in the game,

“Many” implies that several people do not acknowledge this indisputable fact. Who are these people? I would like to speak with them. Do they work at Nestle? Figures. Why don’t you stick to knowing about chocolate, you worthless sons of bit—I’m good, I’m cool.

Don continues annually to add to laurels

I remember when I was a kid, and I would watch Mattingly do something great, seemingly daily, and I would think to myself, “There goes Don, adding to his laurels again. How many laurels does he have now? A million?” In actuality, he had infinite laurels. “Infinite Laurels,” by the way, will be the name of my Don Mattingly-themed alternative rock band that I will be starting soon. The drummer from Band of Horses is in, as are like, eight dudes from Arcade Fire. I only need a lead singer who looks exactly like Don Mattingly and who is the greatest singer ever. Know him? Are him? Call me.

that will put him on a Cooperstown pedestal.

As improbable as it seems that the Nestle Chocolate-Production Company was inaccurate in forecasting future greatness for a baseball player, it is unlikely that Mattingly will gain entrance into the Hall of Fame. As much of a Mattingly fan as I am—and I am the greatest one, I humbly submit—I am first and foremost a rational baseball fan, and I don’t believe that Mattingly, unfortunately, achieved the longevity, by the Hall’s subjective and ever-changing standards, needed to get on that pedestal (I thought it was a bust?).

That said, I take great comfort in that Mattingly’s stretch of 1984-through-1987, considering his era and the very poor Yankee teams for which he played and the fact that he remained an excellent defensive first baseman, can, I believe, stand up with the best four-year stretch of any offensive player ever. And, if we judge him by fame—that elusive of criteria for which the hall in question is defined—his status as the hero of virtually every modern-day major leaguer can attest that he had it in laurels.

Don Mattingly transcends the Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame should want inclusion into Don Mattingly. Not into his butt—DON’T MAKE A JOKE!—I mean theoretically or something.

Until next week …