Junk Wax Battle 2.0 - Players Needed!

If you're a longtime reader of this blog, you know that I'm all about innovation in this wonderful hobby of ours. Not so much innovating the cards themselves, but how we as collectors approach and make sense of them, and their meaning and use within our lives.

Back in October, my friend Matt and I hosted a game—we called it Junk Wax Battle—at our local board game cafe in Brookline, Mass. The goal was to put together a complete set of 1988 Donruss by ripping packs, trading with other players, and winning in-game auctions. We had five players and one judge.

And while it was fun, it was too chaotic, frenetic, and crazy to keep track of everything at once. That was problem number one. By going for a complete set, players had to keep the cards face-down in order to view each card's checklist number, so they couldn't appreciate the ugly, futuristic blue design and photos on the fronts of the cards (problem number two). And after two-and-a-half hours, none of the players had completed the set. So there was problem number three.

Our post mortem with the players revealed other problems: there were too many moving parts in the game-play structure and the set itself was too big to complete in the time we allotted. While the players' different checklisting styles wasn't an issue, the time it took each of them to sort and then physically cross names and numbers off the checklist was.

Armed with this constructive criticism and firsthand experience, it was back to the drawing board. And now, after much tinkering, Junk Wax Battle 2.0 is ready to be put to the test.

We've incorporated smaller checklists—within the larger set—that can change from game to game (or even round to round). We've made the scoring system easier to manage for the players and for the judge. We have a game board (like a baccarat mat), and a less convoluted game structure than before. And we have a real prize, supplied by a generous local card shop. All we need now are players.

Would you pay $10 for a chance to win an autographed David Ortiz baseball card? We're looking for 3 to 5 players available for Sunday, February 15th. If you're in the Boston, Massachusetts area and are interested in competing in Junk Wax Battle 2.0 for a chance to win this great prize, drop me a line.

Junk Wax Battle Postgame Report

Judge Matt Sienkiewicz explains the rules.

Last Thursday evening we kicked off what is sure to be a national phenomenon: Five players. Seven-hundred-and-twenty unopened packs. One ugly set. Yes, the inaugural Junk Wax Battle: 1988 Donruss was a success.

We played at Knight Moves Board Game Cafe in Coolidge Corner, in Brookline, Mass. Starting just after 7pm, we had to call the game due to time constraints  after two and a half hours of frantic wheeling, dealing, and ripping of packs. And no, I did not find a Robbie Alomar Rated Rookie OR a Roger Clemens...

We've proved some of our assumptions correct while others fell by the wayside:

1. Our game was awesome. We knew going in that our rules would provide plenty of frantic moments, from the mass bedlam of five people ripping packs at one table, to heated auctions for needed cards that no one could find in packs. Our prizes were pretty good—a signed Casey at the Bat poster, a 2002 Japanese Topps card of Raul Ibanez, an unopened pack of 1987 Fleer, among others—and the players were competitive. All of it made for a compelling game.

Collating their way to glory.

2. Collation was a nightmare, only not how we expected. Some packs yielded complete fifteen-card runs, like cards checklisted on numbers 240–254 all in one pack, while other packs were more random. And a few other packs, from within the same box, were exact doubles of earlier packs. All told, none of our players completed the 660-card set. The closest full set was still missing around 120 cards. (I thought that at least one person would complete the set, but there were whole swaths of the checklist that nobody found—like cards in the 400s and mid-600s.)

3. Players felt too hurried, and there was too much for them to do. One suggestion was for players to compete in pairs, with one person ripping packs and collating, and the other managing auctions and marking the checklist. This is something we'll tinker with in future games. Another idea was to slow down the game.

Checklisting took a lot of time.

4. The judge was a great idea, and for larger games with more players, two judges could work as well. The Judge's Challenges added life to the game and made it easier for players to amass cards.

5. 1988 Donruss was an inspired choice for our inaugural game. With a 660-card checklist, and terrible collation, it was challenging to put together a set in two and a half hours. In fact, we proved it was practically impossible. Many players said that the checklist was too large for a game like this, but I contend that your amount of time to play dictates the size of the checklist you should use. Two and half hours might be too short for a 660-card set. But at three hours? The beauty of our rules is that the game works regardless of checklist size. We're thinking of using 1988–1990 Topps Big Baseball for our next game, to see how a 264-card checklist might work within the same time constraints.

6. From baseball card shops looking for ways to bring new customers in and kill off their dead junk wax stock, to an exciting group activity at a sports card convention, to a child's birthday party—we think this game has a lot of potential. It may even work as a self-contained game you could buy in a toy store. All of these are possibilities.

E-mail me if you want to participate in our next Junk Wax Battle, and I'll give you the details.

Local SS/2B Arrested

SAN DIEGO - San Diego County police arrested Roberto Alomar, 20, May 28 for failure to yield and possession of illegal fireworks.

Alomar failed to adhere to a yield sign while merging onto highway whatever (doesn't matter). Police became suspicious because Alomar is Hispnaic was wearing a full baseball uniform. Police questioned Alomar about his attire by asking, "Why are you wearing that uniform? It's three o'clock in the morning." Alomar reportedly responded by saying, "I'm just trying to transport these fireworks across the border I mean I was taking extra infield practice."

When police asked Alomar to exit the vehicle, he became agitated and began yelling, "Do you know who I am? I'm a *** d*** RATED ROOKIE."

Police, unsure what this meant, searched underneath Alomar's hat, where they found a rare and endangered newborn Indian Eyed Turtle, which had been reported missing from the San Diego Zoo the previous day. The fireworks were in plain sight, on the lap of a mannequin in the front passenger seat that Alomar claimed he frequently rides with in order to use the HOV lane.

While being read his rights, Alomar spat at police.

"Predictable behavior from the average non-yielding, fireworks trafficker," said Sgt. Dalembert Samuel.

Also, there was a dead body in the trunk. Alomar later confirmed the lifeless body was merely a metaphor for his future with the Mets.

Alomar was transferred to San Diego Central Jail, where he remained for six hours before being bailed out by local hothead Larry Bowa, who was also, strangely, dressed in a full baseball uniform.

Alomar was fined $12,000 and sentenced to 120 days of community service. And also death. He won his appeal and will be in the starting lineup this evening, batting second.

From Creamed to Creamer

Kirk Gibson, 1988 Donruss Diamond Kings

Rhetorical question: What makes a Diamond King?

Here are some rhetorical answers: Being able to sit still long enough to be drawn, playing baseball, lightening bolts—a lot of people don’t know this, but Zeus has the final say on all Diamond Kings—being a gritty leader with a humongous figurative heart, being generally awesome, and of course, a healthy hatred of pranks.

The Los Angeles Dodgers found out last spring training what kind of competitor Kirk Gibson is.

When he collided with an opposing catcher at home plate during a meaningless early March exhibition game against a nearby college team, ending the young catcher’s career, his Dodgers teammates were like, “Whoa. Dude doesn’t have an off switch.” That seems like an adequate follow-up sentence re: competitiveness. Let’s see if I am in the ballpark.

When someone filled his cap with shaving cream, Gibson was furious with his new teammates and immediately questioned their desire to win a division title.

This seems like a great way to acclimate oneself to a new team. I don’t really see how this exemplifies being competitive, although it’s possible I’ve misunderstood that word my entire life.

Kirk Gibson: Puts on baseball cap, head feels smooshy, shaving cream drips down face. What the—WHO DID THIS??!!

Rest of Dodgers: Giggling.

Alfredo Griffin: Boom, roasted.

Gibson: I’LL ROAST YOUR FACE, GRIFFIN! NICE THREE HOME RUNS LAST YEAR. Takes some shaving cream from hat and smears in on Griffin’s face, knocking him over. NOW WHO DID THIS?!

Rest of Dodgers: Silent, scared.

Gibson: THIS ISN’T HIGH SCHOOL AND I’M NOT MR. DILLWEED. YOU WON 73 GAMES LAST YEAR AND LED THE LEAGUE IN BEING STUPID MO FOS. YOU THINK YOU’RE GONNA WIN A DIVISION TITLE BY PUTTING WHIPPED CREAM IN PEOPLE’S HATS? GET A CLUE!

Jesse Orosco: It’s shaving cream.

Gibson: NEVER HEARD OF IT. I SHAVE WITH A RUSTY BLADE AND RECYCLED WATER. IN THE OFFSEASON! FROM MARCH THROUGH OCTOBER I ONLY FOCUS ON ONE THING: WINNING DIVISION TITLES AND BEING AWESOME. MAKE THAT TWO THINGS! HOW ARE THE SHAVING CREAM HIJINKS WORKING OUT FOR YOU PRINCESSES?

Mike Scioscia: Dude, it’s just a prank. Take a chill pill. It’s meant to bring the team closer together, if anything.

Gibson: OH, LET’S BRING THE TEAM TOGETHER AT GIBBY’S EXPENSE! I DON’T THINK THE DODGERS ARE PAYING ME QUADRUPLE ALL YOUR SALARIES TO COME HERE AND GET CREAMED!

Rest of Dodgers: Giggling.

Gibson: SHUT IT! Impersonating the rest of team in little girl’s voice. OH, I CAN ONLY BOND WITH OTHERS THROUGH A MUTUAL LOVE OF CHILDISH PRANKS … HERE’S A PRANK FOR YOU … Punches hole in Scioscia’s locker. HOW ABOUT WE BOND BY WINNING THE DIVISION, A-HOLES?

Gibson, who was declared a free agent by an arbitrator in the offseason, developed not only into the spiritual leader of the Dodgers but the offensive leader and NL MVP favorite of many.

By spiritual did they mean “emotional?” I feel like those are two different things. Also, Gibson was the NL MVP favorite of, mostly, the people who vote for the NL MVP, because he won the NL MVP. I just wanted to clarify that.

And we all know how this story ends. Thanks mainly to putting shaving cream hijinks on the back burner and, in some small way, Orel Hershiser’s decent season and Gibby’s more direct baseball contributions, the Dodgers won the 1988 World Series. More importantly though, they won the division.

Card Critic’s Countdown to the Best Set of the 1980s

After watching a few too many hours of VH1 over the past week, I’ve decided to make my own ‘best of’ list, one that I think is truly needed (although ‘best celebrity beefs’ was pretty great, even though it didn’t include a showdown of celebrity-inspired hamburgers; just one would’ve made the show DVR-worthy).

I’m basing this list on a few criteria: design, short and long-term impact of key cards (including rookies) and how I feel about the set. There were seriously tons of sets made in the 1980s. I thought about maybe limiting the list to just the major issues from the big card companies, then I contemplated adding in all the Kmart issues and other little guys that you could buy like a deck of playing cards, and then those other ones that you had to cut out of the backs of macaroni and cheese (I also think I ate more Drake’s cakes than humanly possible when cards were on the backs of the boxes), but I had no idea where you’d find a comprehensive list of these sets. Enter the Sports Collectors Digest 2006 Standard Catalog of Baseball Cards, which lists every goddamn set ever made (though I thought I had it stumped when I went looking for the Topps Kids issue from 1992, but really it was there). I decided there can be no middle ground in this kind of list.

So for now I’m just going to do major issues by the big companies. By my count there were 53 different major issue sets released in the 1980s. This includes regular base sets as well as Topps Traded, Donruss Rookies, Fleer Update and Score Rookie/Traded. I’m not counting Tiffany or other parallel sets, like the 1984 Nestle Topps set, or O Pee Chee or the late Eighties Leaf sets. Basically, none of the major Canadian sets are counted, just because I’m not convinced that there was enough of a difference between these sets and their Donruss/Topps counterparts (except logos, card numbering, the presence of French text, the ‘Canadian Greats’ subset in the Leaf sets and the peculiar “Now with new team” text on certain traded players’ cards in the O Pee Chee sets). I also didn’t include Sportflics in the list, because my emotions would’ve gotten the better of me and we’d end up with a Sportflics set in the top 20 based purely on sentimentality of the mind-blowing technology used to get Pete Rose, Mike Schmidt and Steve Garvey on one card…truly amazing. But I also didn’t include Sportflics because all their sets kind of looked the same. Ah, fuck it, I’ll include the 1986 set, if only for the fact that I thought they were so goddamn awesome when I was 7 years old.

I’m going to count down from #53, though you should take into mind that sets will be kind of random until about the top fifteen, so you may not agree that 1989 Score is around #45, and on another day I might see it your way, but for now it’s somewhere around #45 because while it’s got an okay design, it’s riddled with statistical errors and it really was kind of a lame sophomore effort from Score, especially coming off a hot Traded set in 1988, not to mention a great inaugural set (setting the tone with different colors, as well as not being afraid of mixing it up at the end of a set with the Reggie through the years hero-worship a la Topps).



53. 1989 Bowman
The last major-issue set the Bowman arm of Topps released was in 1955, with the TV set border—a classic set in terms of design. Just as memorable was its re-entry set in 1989, but for all the wrong reasons. The card size was bigger than the modern standard size. And while this may have seemed quaint and perhaps even necessary in the board room when they decided to make the ‘new’ Bowman remind collectors of the ‘old’ Bowman, it was a disaster for collectors (and when I say ‘collectors’, I mean ‘me’). I hated 1989 Bowman. Hated it so much that I bought one pack and then quit. Hated it so much that even when that one pack had the Griffey Jr./Sr. card in it, I still didn’t care. The stats were totally illogical to my 10 year-old mind; who cares how a batter did against one specific team? I mean really, what kind of shit is that? Also, and I don’t know if I already mentioned this, but the cards were too big to fit into pages, boxes, top loaders or plastic sleeves.

When Fleer came out with Extra Bases in the Nineties, I thought Goddammitt, here we go again, and even though I bought more packs of that set than I did ’89 Bowman, making cards bigger may have made the set stand out, but would never guarantee the company any kind of widespread appeal. 1989 Bowman is the Betamax tape in a VHS world. Maybe someday someone will write his or her dissertation on how the 1989 Bowman set was of superior quality to the other sets on the market at the time. Too bad that person will be confusing 1989 Bowman with 1989 Upper Deck, and will thus receive a D+ on said dissertation (they’ll get a ‘D’ because the topic’s not accurate nor defensible, and a ‘+’ because the judges will have a soft spot in their hearts for Jimmy Piersall, good ol’#66b).

52. 1988 Donruss
You know, there is something to be said for he who comes in next-to-last. Coming in last is pretty easy (I come in last in my fantasy baseball teams nearly every season), but coming in next-to-last is not so easy: you give it your all (or at least half of your all) and still you suck pretty hard. Coming in last almost always means you suffered some spectacular failure and pretty much everyone who’s following knows that you’re in last (just ask Larry Brown). But next-to-last—that’s an anonymous spot. You’re unmemorable. Maybe there were expectations but people knew enough not to expect anything stupendous. It’s here that we find 1988 Donruss.

Let’s see: lame card design? Check. Poor rookie class? Check. Overabundance of cards? Check. Dale Murphy on the box? Check. I have to admit that I had certain expectations for 1988: I knew it wasn’t going to be ’87 redux, but I prayed it wasn’t going to suck. ’87 Donruss was a helluva set: so many great rookies, the thrill of opening a pack you really couldn’t afford but bought anyway…but then ’88 came out and it was crap. You know that first time you saw a new card design it was either hard to swallow or love at first sight? Well, 1988 Donruss remains hard to swallow.

51. 1982 Fleer
This set has a great thing going for it that only 3 other sets can claim: it has a Ripken rookie in it. Without this card, 1982 Fleer would probably be the worst set of the decade. I’ve already written extensively about why this set is horrible, but I’ll hit the key points again here. The cards were printed onstage during Amateur Night at the Apollo, and they were going to be great but the guy got booed off the stage halfway through the process. An 8 year-old kid took the photos on the one day during spring vacation when her parents didn’t take her to Disney World. Not even Fleer’s first foray into the special card subset helps. Just a real shitty set. You know, I see star cards from this set at shows and stuff and I almost can’t bear to pay the asking price for them because the set just envelops you in its aura of poor quality and overall cheapness.

50. 1985 Fleer Update
Why did they even make this set? I ask myself this every day when I get up and look in the mirror. What drugs were they taking at Fleer when they came up with the idea of making a hundred times more of these sets than the one from ’84, putting almost no desirable rookies in it (besides Vince Coleman) and almost no stars (besides Rickey Henderson)? Why? I think the Topps Traded from this year is valued at $2 for the whole set. This one is currently at $4, and that’s because Fleer was right at the height of its higher standards, higher quality, higher price days from 1984 – 1987. A comparison of bona fide, national stars included in the 1984 and 1985 Fleer Update sets:

1984 Update
Dusty Baker
Roger Clemens
Ron Darling
Alvin Davis
Dennis Eckersley
John Franco
Dwight Gooden
Goose Gossage
Mark Gubicza
Jimmy Key
Dave Kingman
Mark Langston
Joe Morgan
Graig Nettles
Phil Niekro
Tony Perez
Kirby Puckett
Jose Rijo
Pete Rose
Bret Saberhagen
Tom Seaver
Rick Sutcliffe
22/132 = 16.67% Success Rate
8/22 CFS* = 36.37% *Clutching For Straws kind of stars (i.e. Dusty Baker)

1985 Update
Dusty Baker
Tom Browning
Gary Carter
Jack Clark
Vince Coleman
Darren Daulton
Ozzie Guillen
Rickey Henderson
Teddy Higuera
Howard Johnson
Fred Lynn
Don Sutton
Mickey Tettleton
13/132 = 9.85% Success Rate
7/13 CFS = 53.85% Clutching For Straws kind of stars (i.e. Dusty Baker)

See what I mean? When you make a list of all the big names that moved or got called up from the farm that year and the fifth name on your list is Fred Lynn, you may just want to hedge your bets and make a four card insert set to your factory set; don’t bother with an Update set that nobody’s going to buy.

Coming Soon: Sets 49-46