Book

Hi everyone,

I hope this blog post finds you well. I also hope you have been enjoying / tolerating my rambling posts about baseball cards.

I wanted to let you know that I wrote a book. It is the same title as my personal blog, "So, Do You Like ... Stuff"" and can be purchased here.

The book has nothing to do with baseball cards, like, many would say, my baseball card posts. It's about, well, other stuff. If you like my writing in general, I think you would like the book, too, is all I'm saying.

Our own esteemed Ben Henry provided a very kind back cover blurb for the book, and so it's almost like, if you don't buy it, you're kind of doing a disservice to Ben. Those are his words, not mine.

Of course, I kid. Buy the book, buy several books ... whatever. Doesn't matter to me. I will still be your Internet/blog friend regardless.

Enjoy the season!

Mike Kenny

Curb Your Enthusiaczm

Mark Gubicza and John Russell, 1990 Fleer "Superstar Specials" series

MARK GUBICZA and JEFF RUSSELL, you have henceforth been selected to consecutive AL All-Star Games and are now featured on Fleer’s “Super Star Specials” series as “STARTER & STOPPER.” Please try to contain your excitement!







Thank you.

It is possible that both MARK GUBICZA and JEFF RUSSELL remain perturbed that their respective names have not received the proper name recognition as the more celebrated hurlers in baseball at this time of 1990—players like Roger Clemens and Nolan Ryan and Roger Clemens. Perhaps CAPS LOCK will do the trick?



Neither MARK GUBIZCA nor JEFF RUSSELL carries the name recognition of the more celebrated hurlers in baseball.

Person: Hey, have you heard of MARK GUBIZCA?

Other person: Who? No! That name sounds silly and difficult to spell.

Person: What about JEFF RUSSELL?

Other person: Why are you screaming at me? And yes—I went to kindergarten with a Jeff Russell. He used to eat his boogers and poop in his pants and there was a big rumor once that he put his boogers in his poop.

Person: No, I am talking about the major league pitcher.

Other person: You mean Roger Clemens? Yes! Let us celebrate him with a toast!

But now that each has been selected to represent the AL in the last two All-Star games that should change.

Whew! The last thing I want is for two guys making lots of money who play baseball for a living and are All-Stars and who every person who follows baseball is aware of regardless of any misconception that they are wallowing in obscurity (deep breath … ) to be not afforded the proper name recognition.

Let’s start with GUBIZCA. What would you say is most impressive about GUBIZCA?

Most impressive about GUBIZCA is his tenacity.

Awesome! Please elaborate.

Over the last two seasons he has pitched 524.2 innings.

Good gracious that is tenacious! What about RUSSELL?

RUSSELL earned a save or win in 53% of the Rangers’ victories.

The 1989 Texas Rangers slogan was “Got RUSSELL?” Because the milk ads had yet to surface, this made little sense to both fans and other MLB teams. In fact, confused, the Atlanta Braves responded with their own slogan: “Yeah. John,” which made even less sense bereft of context. As a means of escalating the Russell war, the Rangers countered by signing John Russell the next season, and as a result, 96% of Rangers wins and loses were at least partially influenced by a Russell in the year of 1990.

Any rare feats I should know about?

Thus, he made the All-Star team as a starter in 1988 and as a reliever in 1989.

Okaaaay …

A rare feat!

Oh, cool!

GUBIZCA and RUSSELL would go on to star in the popular UPN sitcom, “The Starter and the Stopper,” in which a black major league starting pitcher and a white major league closer—who are best friends—solve crimes. GUBIZCA and RUSSELL played local shop owners.

The Virtues of Hanging Around

Chad Curtis, 1996 Topps

As a Yankee fan, Chad Curtis holds a special place in my heart. I read in Buster Olney’s “Last Night of the Yankee Dynasty” that Curtis irked Derek Jeter by apparently trying to impose his Christian beliefs on the rest of the clubhouse. Eventually Curtis was shipped off. Running a secular clubhouse is just another Jeter intangible that doesn’t show up in the boxscore. In God’s boxscore though, Jeter is 0-for-4 with three errors, but … forgiven!

Coincidentally, Curtis was drafted by the Angels, who, fed up with his angelic ways, traded him to Detroit. Then, this happened:



Chad arrived in a trade 13 days before the season opener,

Wait—he only had two weeks to prepare for playing baseball with a different baseball team? Whhhaaaaaaaattttt????? He must have fell flat on his face!

then did what no other Tiger had since 1987: produce a 20-HR/20-SB season.

Detroit Tigers (in unison): Hi, Chad! Welcome to spring training.

Curtis: Hello, team. This season I am going to hit 20 home runs and also steal 20 bases, so you can run and go tell that.

Tigers: Are you crazy? No Tiger has accomplished such a feat since 1987!

Curtis: Well, 1987 was only eight years ago. Also, 20 is not really a lot. Also, your team is not very good.

Tigers: True, true.

Curtis: Why are you all standing around shirtless, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes?

Tigers: Why? How do YOU prepare for games, Mr. Goodie-two-spikes?

Curtis: God help me.

Even the Angel scout who signed him out of the draft’s 45th round admits he didn’t consider Curtis a prospect, hoping he’d hang around long enough to perhaps develop into a coach.

Angels’ front office executives: Hello, anonymous scout. How did things go during the 45th round today?

Scout: Well, first of all, let me say this—45 rounds is way too many rounds. I mean, I haven’t seen my family in six years.

Executives: …

Scout: Anyway, I grabbed some guy (fumbling through his notes) … Chad Curtis. He’s uh … a pitcher? No. Outfielder? He plays in the outfield somewhere. He’s white, I think. I don’t know. I don’t think he’s very good.

Executives: Okay, interesting. So what you’re telling us is that, you drafted a baseball player to play baseball for us who you do not think will be very good at playing baseball? Do we have that right? May we ask you then, why do we employ you to scout for us?

Scout: Well, I was hoping he’d hang around long enough to develop into a coach.

Executives: Oh, well then, why didn’t you say so! This will put us as frontrunners to win the World Series of Coaching, which isn’t a thing, because you are an idiot.

Scout: C’mon. It’s the 45th round!

Executives: Is there a definite amount of time that Mr. Curtis must “hang around” as a player in order to develop into a coach? We were not aware that coaching baseball at any level required major league experience.

Scout: I’m leaving. You guys are jerks.

Executives: Wait! Don’t go! Who will draft us a potential equipment manager in the 46th round? (They all give each other hi-fives. End scene.)

Alvaro Espinoza-lot

Alvaro Espinoza, 1991 Stadium Club

Here is a picture of Alvaro Espinoza getting ready to make an out. This wasn’t necessarily my favorite sight to see as a young Yankee fan, but man—Stadium Club made it look good, didn’t they?

Let’s take an in-depth look at Alvaro Espinoza’s adeptness at hitting baseballs, and let us start where we always do—with the Fastball Bars System:





As you can see from the Fastball Bars System chart, Alvaro Espinoza played baseball. Also, if you were a major league pitcher at the time, and a fastball was part of your repertoire, your best bet was to throw Alvaro Espinoza a high outside fastball. According to the chart, Espinoza never hit a high outside fastball in his entire life. Another good place to throw Alvaro Espinoza a fastball was pretty much anywhere.

But what about his fastball/curveball splits versus both right and left-handed pitchers? I’m glad you asked. For that let’s walk over to Star-rating Evaluation box. Stars are an easy and convenient way to capture a player’s ability. Is so-and-so good at baseball? Let’s see … three stars? Okay, cool! I understand now. Out of how many stars? I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.

In Alvaro Espinoza’s case, he earned three stars for hitting curveballs versus left-handed pitchers. That is important information for you to know as you continue living life. But what about hitting curveballs versus right-handed pitchers? Well, as we say in the business (printer repair), one star is better than no stars. Watching Alvaro Espinoza not hit curveballs versus right-handed pitchers was the equivalent of watching a romantic comedy starring Katherine Heigl and Ashton Kutcher. Unless you were on the other team, in which case it was like watching a romantic comedy starring Katherine Heigl and Al Pacino.

Now, I know what you’re saying: Charts and evaluation boxes are cool and all, but what about general comments? Well, Stadium Club has got that covered, too.

COMMENTS: Weak vs. outside and inside fastballs vs. RH.

What separated Espinoza from his peers was his average ability to hit fastballs right down the middle of the plate.

STRENGTHS: Medium-high outside curves vs. RH (.363)

The saying around baseball circa 1991 was, “You do NOT want to throw Alvaro Espinoza a medium-high outside curve if you’re right-handed.” Those rookie right-handers? Ha, ha … those guys found out the hard way.

WEAKNESSES: Low-outside curves vs. RH, outside fastballs vs. LH

Allow me to recap these general comments if I may: COMMENTS: Has weaknesses. STRENGTHS; One thing, kinda. WEAKNESSES: Everything else; see COMMENTS.

Espinoza’s Wikipedia page, which uses words to capture his career, lists several things that he was famous for being good at. For the following things, we will award him four stars:

-Knowledge
-Concentration
-Getting to balls that flashier shortstops would not be able to, as their flashiness prevents them from having knowledge or concentration (zero stars for them)
-Having a name that Yankees’ PA announcer Bob Sheppard liked to say
-Bubble gum hat antics

My own personal reflections on Alvaro Espinoza can be seen here. All in all, I think what it comes down to is this: You can have your complex charts and evaluation boxes and spreadsheets and computers and iPhones and time machines and whatever. But if you want a guy to just go out there and play some baseball? And concentrate? Well … he’s got a name. And ya’ know what? It’s pretty darn fun to say.

A Precious Solid

John Ramos, 1991 Fleer Ultra Prospects series

Everybody, this is John Ramos. John Ramos, everybody. John is going to pose in a batting stance while the rest of us discuss rare commodities in baseball, okay? Let’s get down to business.



What is the rarest commodity in baseball?

Ooh, ooh, I know! Albert Pujols. Oh wait. What year is this … ’91? Oh, okay. Barry Bonds. The answer is Barry Bonds.

A flamethrowing lefthander?

No. I mean, that’s good and all, don’t get me wrong. But lefties who throw fast, while they don’t grow on trees—the “southpaw fire spruce,” as many believe, which is cultivated in remote areas of central New Mexico—are not the rarest baseball commodity. Does this hypothetical flamethrower have pinpoint location? That would be better. But ya’ know what’s even better than that? Barry Bonds.

No.

See?

A shortstop with great range and power?

Is the shortstop Barry Bonds? Then yes. If not, no. Again, great thing to have. But if by “rarest commodity” you mean the best asset a baseball team could posses—and I think that’s what you mean—then again, no. I would say that the rarest commodity in baseball is a great player with a great eye who is fast and powerful and awesome defensively who plays everyday and who is great at playing baseball and who is Barry Bonds. Would it be better if he weren’t kind of a dick? Sure. That’s why I originally answered “Pujols.” But it’s ’91, and I’m working with what I’ve been given.

Also, sidebar: It’s common knowledge that the 1991 NL MVP voting was a joke. But I mean, are you freakin’ kidding me? I feel like the BBWAA got a pass on this, when in fact—in the realm of awards, which are kind of stupid—this is like the gravest injustice of my lifetime. Every time a BBWAA member writes a grand, pretentious opus about why he voted for so-and-so for whatever, it should always end with the phrase, “But then again, Terry Pendleton.”

Maybe.

“Maybe?” Could you please be more definitive in dismissing your own answers to your own question?

What has become a rarity is a solid catcher who can hit. Meet John Ramos.

Okay, first of all, we already met John Ramos. Also, your original question was, “What is the rarest commodity in baseball?” and you have pseudo-responded to that question by naming something that has “become” a rarity. Also, this is wrong. Literally every baseball team has a solid catcher who can hit (at least a little). I mean, you pose this grandiose question and answer it with solid? “Solid” is a description for a player who has no distinguishable characteristics. Also, what does John Ramos have to do with all this?

This 25-year-old was a fifth round selection in the 1986 draft and has been brought along slowly.

Oh, wait. I see. You are saying that John Ramos is the rarest commodity in baseball. Hmmm. Okay. John, what do you think? {John Ramos nods his head “no.”} I don’t mean to knock John Ramos here or anything, who seems like a nice enough guy, but maybe it’s not so much that he’s being brought along slowly as it is that he is going slowly. {John Ramos nods his head “yes.”}

With the Yankees perennially weak behind the plate,

Ummm, apparently someone has never heard of the Matt Nokes Pyramid of Hitting.

this former late-round selection will be looked upon to add some offensive punch and a calming influence to a young Yankees’ staff in the near future.

No, he won’t. Also, offensive punch + calming influence = rarest commodity. If I had a nickel for every guy who lacked offensive punch and was a disruptive influence, I’d have like, a nickel that wasn’t very rare.

*Note: It seems as though the Matt Nokes website has changed. Please trust me that the original site was much more amazing.

Ontiveros Shocks the World, With Finesse

Steve Ontiveros, 1996 Pinnacle

Now this is what a baseball card should be. Quality color action shot on the front; glam shot on the back. No clutter, but a simple gold pyramid thingee draws the eye, and my heart (I heart gold pyramid thingees). Short tidbit on the back is professionally executed, yet silly enough to allow me to bleed out yet another pointless post. It’s all there. So let’s go there.



A finesse pitcher

TANGENT ALERT! Ever try your hand at one of those “test your pitching speed” things on the boardwalk down at the Jersey Shore or whatever crappy beach you grew up near? Me too. Never a good idea, especially if you are with other people (although, worse idea: going to the boardwalk alone). I think one time I topped out at 49 mph. I always walk away from those things blaming the speed gun for not working, even though I threw the ball three times and each time it registered the same exact speed.

Another great time is going to the batting cage and upping the ol’ speed meter to “medium,” and by the time you finally get your timing down enough to foul a few pitches off, the reserve high school shortstop waiting behind the netting for his turn is making fun of you to his skanky girlfriend. It seems you have failed to convince yourself and others that you used to play sports. The good news? You look great in your cargo shorts and oversized batting helmet.

Anyway, Steve Ontiveros is classified as, first and foremost on his very own card, a finesse pitcher, which is a nice way of saying he doesn’t throw fast. This seemingly runs contrary to the picture on the front of the card—I’m not impressed by much, but his hand is a blur! In all honesty, Steve Ontiveros probably topped out in the high 80s to low 90s (I could probably look that up, but I don’t feel like it). The point is, that is hella fast. Yet, it is considered slow by major league standards.

This is why I love baseball. We’ve all played, and we all think we’re pretty good, and some of us have achieved success on the lower amateur ranks (the “Great Effort” Little League trophy sponsored by Vinnie’s Pizza was the goal of many a boy in East Brunswick, NJ). Yet no matter how old we get, we stand in awe of those who are only thrown off when they see a pitch slower than 90 miles per hour; by those who throw harder than we could ever imagine, but who have to change speeds just to survive.

who survives by changing speeds,

In the movie Speed 3: Ontiveros at the Wheel, Oakland A’s pitcher Steve Ontiveros drives a bus hijacked with an explosive, and must constantly change the bus’ speed from 55 mph to zero or else everyone on the bus will die, including him. Does he fall in love? You betcha.

Steve surprised the world by posting the AL’s best ERA in 1994.

The headline of the Beijing Gazette on the morning of September 14, 1994 read: World, Including Us, Shocked: A’s Ontiveros AL ERA Champ of Strike-Shortened American Season. Subtitle: 2.65 Mark Almost Run and a Half Higher Than Previous Career Best, Minimum 100 Innings-Pitched. All of this was written in Chinese. The Russian tabloids were much harsher. Blared the Soviet Herald: Steve Who? AL ERA Title, League Loses Credibility. Subtitle: Country Obviously Vulnerable; Now Could Be Time To Attack. This was written in Russian.

The world renown honor of hoisting the American League ERA trophy of a strike-shorted season (the gold-plated plastic pitcher on the trophy has no torso, so as to signify the shortened season) was not lost on Ontiveros, who used his worldwide fame to, according to Wikipedia, become the pitching coach for the Chinese National Baseball team in the Beijing Olympics. Ontiveros, who was born in New Mexico, was granted citizenship and a spot on the national coaching staff after the Chinese government discovered that Ontiveros had listed China as second in a Nickoldeon "Kids & The Pros" survey which asked him to the list the top three countries he'd most like to visit.