Historical Deliciousness

Ron Gant, 1990 Donruss Diamond Kings

I trust everyone has seen the film, “The Miraculous Redemption of Ron Gant,” starring Cuba Gooding Jr. as a baseball player who is good at playing baseball, and then not so good, and then good again. It is a gripping, moving film, especially the part where the horse dies, which pretty much came out of nowhere.

Let us revisit that story, based on actual events.



Ron Gant recorded a year of near miraculous redemption.

Go on …

He was a 1988 Rookie of the Year candidate—

In that he was rookie. It’s not as if these guys have to publicly declare their candidacies once they obtain the required signatures. You or I would be a Rookie of the Year candidate if we were inserted into the major leagues via some hilarious scenario in which our cheap and crazy uncle owned a baseball team.

he finished 4th in the voting.

This is a lukewarm introduction to this miracle. Other players who have finished fourth in Rookie of the Year voting include Kerry Ligtenberg, Aaron Miles, Chris Gomez, and Rich Loiselle. Even if those men experienced a similar redemption that I am assuming is forthcoming in this case, I am probably not seeing that movie. Actually, yes I am. Who am I kidding.

Then 1989 was a year of turmoil as he struggled at a new position—third base—and in late June was optioned to Class A Sumter where he was moved to centerfield.

This is so not rare that there is a common term for it described as a “sophomore slump.” So just to recap: “Pretty good rookie experiences sophomore slump” is the Cliff Notes of the first six lines of the back of this card, if you’d simply like to skip to the redemptive part, although it's probably too late for that now if you've already read all this. Sorry.

He regrouped and began his climb back to the Braves.

MONTAGE! There’s no easy way out … There’s no short-cut home!

And now he is Donruss’ National League Comeback Player of the Year,

First of all, that is a rather abrupt conclusion to this miraculous story. Where is the part where an old high school baseball coach gives Ron Gant a motivational speech and then discovers a hitch in his swing and then fixes it and then dies? And who does Donruss think it is dishing out its own rewards like that? This isn’t the USA Today/Coaches/ESPN college football rankings, where you get to choose who you want to listen to—MLB issues the awards and that’s it, Donruss! Get over yourself. Also, is this a Diamond King card or Comeback Player of the Year card? Finally, okay, I’ll bite: Why is Ron Gant Donruss’ National League Comeback Player of the Year?

because in 1990 he wrote delicious history.

Oh, okay. Because he wrote history that is pleasing to my sense of taste. Got it.

He hit 32 HR and had 33 SB; only the third Braves player to reach the 30-30 Club.

Yummy! But how is that history, much less delicious history, other than that it was recorded like all data is recorded all the time? Any other laurels?

Other laurels were 84 RBI, a league 4th best

RBI are stupid, but mentioning 84 RBI as a thing to be impressed by is just—how should I put this?—not very delicious. Eight-four RBI is Nick Swisher. And again with the fourth best? I prefer my Diamond Kings to be first best at everything, but that’s just me. I have high standards.

107 runs (again 4th best)

Ron Gant: The first best at being fourth best. Coincidentally, “The Miraculous Redemption of Ron Gant” opened fourth at the box office, just slightly behind “Snow Dogs II: Dogs at the Beach.” Cuba made a killing.

The Yountchise

Robin Yount, 1991 Score, "The Franchise"

Robin Yount was past his prime during the prime of my card-collecting days, a karmic circumstance that would prove unfortunate for Yount, as he never gained the proper respect he deserved from me, future Random Internet Blogger Who Makes Fun of His Old Baseball Cards. I think a lot of it also had to do with the fact that I only rarely saw Yount play baseball—I recall none of it—due to the fact that, when I was nine, we didn’t have the not-yet-invented MLB Package (thanks a lot, dad!), and the Milwaukee Brewers were a team that largely existed only in theory. But today, as the famous baseball saying goes, the chickens are coming home to roost re: Robin Yount.



Throw out Robin’s 1990 statistics;

Throw them out. Throw his statistics, acquired through a 162-game season, into the garbage can. You know what’s weird that I just realized? You can’t actually throw statistics into a garbage can because statistics are intangible, but I have a strong feeling that this card will serve as a Robin Yount apologist by highlighting his intangibles.

Also: Not a great idea for the lede of a card declaring him “The Franchise” to implore us all to ignore Robin Yount’s actual baseball statistics.

Also: I think we'd ALL like to throw out our 1990 statistics, no?

his worth to the Brewers goes far beyond numbers.

How far beyond? For the ’82 Harvey’s Wallbangers, Yount won the AL MVP, led the league in hits (210), doubles (46), slugging (.578), OPS+ (166!), and total bases (367). What exceeded those numbers to carry the Brewers to the AL Pennant? The only thing I can possibly think of is some form of exceptionally quiet leadership.

He is the Brewers quiet leader,

Considering Yount’s awesome ability to play baseball and fine personal character attributes, I believe his most important quality was his general quietness. It’s tough to win when things are loud and people are talking and stuff. In that respect, I think a modern-day Robin Yount would get along splendidly with Nyjer Morgan, or at the very least, they would make for a great buddy cop movie called, “Bat-man & Robin,” or “Bat($h*t-crazy)-man & Robin,” or, “Yount Guns.”

Robin is a manager’s dream; he never complains, never wants to sit out.

Manager: Had a dream last night. Guy walks into the clubhouse, he’s got a mustache. Doesn’t say anything. Then he uses sign language to tell me he wants to play in every game. I can’t read sign language, but in the dream I could. Also, the clubhouse was actually my grandmother’s dining room, but it was still the clubhouse, too, ya’ know? Anyway, I’m like, wow, this guy doesn’t complain, but he wants to play everyday. I wonder if he would complain if I told him he couldn’t play everyday. And I was just about to do that, but when I looked, the guy had turned into this girl Robin I went to grammar school with, and who I hadn’t thought about in years. And then get this—this morning, I get a friend request on Facebook … from Robin! So weird. She’s divorced, but she’s doing well.

“Robin is what the team stands for,” said team president Bud Selig. “He’s perfect for the franchise.”

I wonder if Selig was stating that Robin Yount was perfect for the Milwaukee Brewers franchise (in that he was white with facial hair) or if he was acknowledging that Yount was a perfect fit for the Score baseball card company’s new series of cards, “The Franchise.” Probably the latter.

Now, if I had to guess three of Robin Yount’s non-baseball passions, I would probably say … professional auto racing, definitely … umm, motorcycle racing, also, because, why not, and then … lemme think here … lemonade?

Wikipedia?

Since retiring from baseball, Yount has increased his participation in two of his other passions, professional motorcycle and auto racing. In June 2008, Yount announced the creation of a new lemonade drink, Robinade. A portion of the proceeds of the sales goes to charity.

I am very much looking forward to being involved in a conversation in which someone displays an unusual affection for Robin Yount’s playing career, at which point I will say, “Looks like someone’s been drinking the Robinade!” and everyone will laugh and then carry me off on their shoulders.

1961 Fleer Baseball Greats: A Re-Interpretation

I'm trying to complete the 1961 Fleer Baseball Greats set. It's not too challenging, though it's taken me at least five years through casual accumulation. And I'm still eight cards short. But as I look over the checklist, a few things come to mind. First, who are all these players? I know who Frank Chance is, and Roger Peckinpaugh; but General Crowder? Joe Kuhel? Joe Hauser? Where'd they find these guys? Also, with 154 slots, Fleer didn't seem to have room for Joe DiMaggio, which is a travesty.

With DiMaggio's omission in mind, this set raises a boatload of questions, starting with the obvious: If you had 154 cards to showcase some of the game's greatest, um, greats, who would you include? Would you go for the obvious all-stars? The crowd favorites? How about the overachieving utility men and one-hit wonders? And perhaps just as importantly, who wouldn't make the cut?

As an exercise, I tried my hand at updating this set's checklist for players who were either active when this set came out, were active after this set was made (including players currently active), and two glaring omissions from the original checklist. As the parameter for making the cut for the new set, the new Great and the old Great had to have something in common, either an award shared by the two, similar statistics (or career WAR), or some other shared feat. I did all of my research on Baseball-Reference.com. I chose not to include Negro Leagues stars; that's a different checklist exercise (perhaps the next one I'll undertake).

Here's what I found. Most of the players chosen by Fleer in 1961 as "baseball greats" from the first 75 years of the game were just that. But some of them were not; they were average players. And when you see who their post-war or modern-day counterparts are, it's sort of depressing (Ray Mueller, meet Pat Borders).

To liven up the exercise, I've made new custom card fronts for the updated checklist, and paired them with their original counterparts. I've also tried to use older photos of the players, as many of the photos used in the original set were either from the end of the players' careers or from old-timers days. Only a handful of cards feature photos from the players' hey days (and those are generally for the turn-of-the-century players).

I'm going to refrain from posting the paired checklists for the time being, but I'll share with you a few all-time greats that didn't fit: Mike Schmidt, Henry Aaron, Mike Piazza, Ed Mathews, Billy Williams, Reggie Jackson, Mariano Rivera, Ryne Sandberg, Jim Rice. The list goes on. But the truth of the matter is that there weren't spots for them in the updated checklist because they didn't pair up well enough with one of the original players. The original checklist had its flaws; I made sure that the updated checklist would be flawed in the same ways.

So let's get started. I'm going to skip the checklist on card number one for now. Card number two is Grover Cleveland "Pete" Alexander. I'm pairing him with Tom Seaver. Both are among the top five greatest pitchers of their respective eras.

Cereal Thrilla

Will Clark, 1989 Topps Cap’n Crunch

The common misconception of Cap’n Crunch is that he only knows about seafaring and things that are crunchy. To those who abide by such thinking, I implore you—don’t put Cap’n Crunch in a box. Because the thing is, Cap’n Crunch knows a lot about other stuff, too, like wine, exotic (land) species, Greek architecture, indie music, and things of that ilk. He is also pretty dang familiar with our country’s national pastime. Truth be told, Cap’n Crunch is the George Will of cereal captains.

Speaking of Wills, how about Will Clark? Many people who enjoy baseball were unfamiliar with Will Clark until Cap’n Crunch featured him on a set of baseball cards in 1989. The Cap’n, Topps, and Clark himself, however, put forth a rather curious concerted collaborative effort to make Clark appear as less a baseball player than a pedophile.

Perhaps as an homage to Cap’n Crunch himself, Clark decided to grow a mustache that I have never before seen on any other of his baseball cards. This is indeed a rare occurrence of Will Clark facial hair, and has in itself raised the value of this card to a whopping .5 Euros. To boot, Topps stripped Clark of the San Francisco Giants symbol often seen on San Francisco Giants hats, so as to abide by Section IV, Rule 34.8 of the Major League Baseball Handbook, which explicitly states: “Any player featured on a breakfast cereal-sponsored piece of cardboard shall represent his current franchise in text only and not via graphic symbols, which may falsely infer that said player is affiliated with said team. Failure to meet this criteria will result in up to eight years in federal prison for all involved parties, cartoon and/or human.” It’s unknown whether Clark, in this particular shot, is on a ball field or in front of an old, rusted, windowless van offering free candy to passersby. All we really know is that he plays first base, or is at least trying to get there.



Belted Home Run with his first swing in pro ball for Fresno vs. Visalia, June 21, 1985.
Belted Home Run with his first swing as big leaguer, at Houston Astrodome, April 8, 1986.

That is interesting—the type of stuff back-of-cards were born to reveal. Equally interesting, although not mentioned here, is that Will’s middle name is “Nuschler,” which is like, “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?” Ha, ha … Nuschler.

What else ya’ got, Wiki?

Playing for Mississippi State University, Clark was noted for his oft-imitated "sweet swing," said to be among the best in baseball … A teammate of Rafael Palmeiro, the two were known as "Thunder and Lightning"

I’m sorry, which one was “Lightening?” The balding, lefty, power-hitting Caucasian or the mustachioed, future-Viagra-spokesman, power-hitting Cuban? Either way, if the thought of those two hitting back-to-back in the same lineup doesn’t evoke comparisons of Gary Payton and Shawn Kemp, then I am not good at comparisons.

Clark and Palmeiro have been known to dislike each other and have had heat since their days at Mississippi St.

New comparison: 50 Cent vs. The Game. Everything came to a head when Clark dropped the single, “I Got Heat Witchu,” a not-so-subtle shot at his former teammate that included the line, “You say you play first/Homey you the worst/A bad throw you can’t dig/With your fake a$$ wig.

Unlike Palmeiro, Clark has never been linked to nor accused of steroid use.

“I Still Got Heat Withcu,” released 2005

Handled yourself well at that Congressional hearing/Shoulda brought you up on charges of trying to bite my swing/The Hall of Fame? Pfft, that’s a gas/Let’s go to the cages right now, I’ll Cap’n Crunch that a$$!

Hot Corners; Cutting Corners

Wade Boggs / Carney Lansford, 1989 Fleer "Superstar Specials"

Fleer headquarters, 1988

Dave: Bill, check it out. Snapped a shot of Wade Boggs and Carney Lansford at the All-Star Game.

Bill: (Looks …) Okaaay. You want an award or somethin'?

Dave: Dude, let’s make a card out of it!

Bill: Sure. We’ll call it (looks again), “Two White Guys With Beard-Stache-Mullets Who Are The Exact Same Size And Play The Same Position And NOBODY CARES.”

Dave: First of all, that’s mean. Second of all, look how happy they are! Kids will want to buy this and share in the happiness. Plus, it’s got Boggs in it! I say we send it to production.

Bill: Fine. Whatever. Work with Dale. Dale! Get in here!

Dale: ‘Sup?

Bill: I need a writeup on Dave’s happy-joy-smiley card here. Call it, “HOT CORNER’S—HOT HITTERS” or something with “HOT” in it to draw attention away from the lack of baseball action displayed here. Boggs will write itself. For Lansford? Make some stuff up.

Dale: Done and done.



The two best third base hitters in the American League are Wade Boggs of the Boston Red Sox and

Don’t say it.

Carney Lansford of the Oakland A’s.

This is a 1989 baseball card, meaning it’s drawing its conclusions from the most recent season of 1988.

Carney Lansford, 1988: .327 OBP / .360 SLUG / .687 OPS
George Brett, 1988: .389 OBP / .509 SLUG / .898 OPS

Also,

Me: I’ll take “American League Third Basemen Who Were Better At Hitting Baseballs in 1988 Than Carney Lansford” for $200, Alex.

Alex: The answer: .353 / .551 / .905

Beep, beep, beep!

Me: Who is Gary Gaetti?

Alex: Correct!

Me: I’ll take “American League Third Basemen Who Were Better At Hitting Baseballs in 1988 Than Carney Lansford” for $400, Alex.

Alex: The answer: .384 / .452 / .836.

Beep, beep, beep!

Me: Who is Paul Molitor?

Alex: Correct!

In fact, they are the two best hot corner hitters in Major League Baseball.

This lede: Wrong statement. Scratch that—more wrong statement.

1988
Lansford: .327 / .360 / .687
B. Bonilla: .366 / .476 / .842
H. Johnson: .343 / .422 / .765
M. Schmidt: .337 / .405 / .742

One of the great coincidences is that they used to be teammates on the Boston Red Sox in 1982.

Indeed, one of the great coincidences of the modern American era is that Wade Boggs and Carney Lansford were once teammates, and then, coincidentally, they were not teammates anymore. Not mentioned here are the two incidences at work that collided in a case of karmic drama: 1) Wade Boggs was a better third baseman than Carney Lansford in 1982, and 2) the Red Sox were like, “Guess we don’t need Carney Lansford anymore, because of Wade Boggs.”

I’m still trying to figure out how Lansford made the ’88 All-Star Team. Although, a true coincidence as it relates to everything above is the fact that in ’89, Lansford turned things around to the tune of .398 / .405 / .803, and even finished in the top 20 of the MVP voting (and was still outperformed by Bonilla, Molitor, Johnson, et al).

But here’s my favorite:

{Lansford} has amassed 1,622 hits and has a very good shot at achieving the exclusive 3000 Hit Club before his big league career is ended.

That is just crazy talk. A very good shot? Lansford was 32-years old heading into the 1989 season and, as the card notes, coming off a 155-hit season. If he averaged 155 hits—thus displaying no regression or injury—for the next eight seasons, he still would have fallen more than 100 hits short of 3,000. As it were, Lansford reached the 2,000 hit plateau in his final season of 1992.

None of this is to disparage the career of Lansford, who was a very good player. I’m just trying to point out that this card isn’t as accurate or HOT as it claims to be. I have a full-time job, by the way.