The Emmisary of Class

Alex Rodriguez, 2005 Topps

What makes a classy emissary? Excellent question, me.

Emissary is defined by the Internet as "A person sent on a special mission, e.g., as a diplomatic representative, or a shortstop turned third baseman." Classy is like when you are formal but without even trying or whatever. Put those two together and you have one classy-ass emissary.

Say it's 2004. Who do you think are the classiest emissaries of baseball right now? Remember, it's 2004. Billy Crystal? Ozzie Smith? Craig Counsel? All excellent, albeit wrong, guesses. Let's look at the back of this Alex Rodriguez baseball card and see if there are any clues. Why an Alex Rodriguez card? That in itself is a clue. Try and stay with me here.

Upon leaving Texas for NYC in an astonishing 2004 trade

Quick aside: I was in IKEA with my wife the day after the trade happened, and it wasn't until I walked past a copy of that day's Daily News while making my way through a barrage of fake kitchens did the trade really sink in GET IT? Neither here nor there, but I mention this only to remind everyone that IKEA is the worst.

Alex was called by Ranger's manager Buck Showalter "a good man with a pure heart."

That sounds like faint praise for a neighbor who was accused of shoplifting socks rather than a parting shot for a baseball player who just completed three consecutive seasons of 50+ home runs. Was it this early in his career that people were playing the role of Alex Rodriguez apologist as it pertained to his motives?

Reporter: Buck, now that he's gone, a lot of guys in the locker room are saying that Alex Rodriguez was a bad person with a black heart and also that maybe he eats kittens. Can you speak to that?

Buck Showalter: Not gonna take the bait, Karl. Alex is a good man with a pure heart.

Indeed, A-Rod is not only a great player, but one of the game's classiest emissaries.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Alex Rodriguez kneels before MLB Commissioner Bud Selig, head down

Selig: Wearing old British powder wig, holding baseball bat. And I hereby dub thee, Alexander Rodriguez, classy emissary of Major League Baseball. Taps each shoulder with bat.

Rodriguez: Rises slowly. It is an honor and a privilege, good sir. Oh, one thing I forgot to mention earlier ... not sure if it's a big deal or whatever, but ... I kind of did a bunch of steroids a while back ... we cool?

Selig: Hmmm. Were they absorbed in a classy manner?

Rodriguez: Oh no doubt. I wore a bow tie every time while using scientific terms like buttocks.

Selig: Then I see no issue. Now go forth on your special mission as a diplomat of this fine game, and preach its good tidings while maintaining your dignit-- wha ... what are you doing?

Rodriguez: Oh, just kissing myself in the mirror. Why, what's up? Were we not finished?

The Rookie Card Through the Years

In a conversation with Andy of the 88 Topps blog, this topic came up: How long has the hobby been obsessed with the rookie card? Or, perhaps more importantly, how long has the rookie card been important to card manufacturers? And has it become more important through the years, or is its importance just a quality we as collectors project?

Andy made the point that historically, rookies had to prove themselves in the minor leagues with at least a few good seasons under their belts, before they made the jump to the big leagues and got their card in a baseball card set. In contrast, in the last 20 years, young players have been on cards from the moment they were drafted, and sometimes even before they were drafted (the Team USA subsets in 1985 Topps and 1988, 1991, and 1992 Topps Traded).

It seemed obvious, at least to us, that the rookie card has taken a much more significant role in sets as the years, and hobby, have progressed. But then after the conversation ended, I got to thinking: Do rookies really take up a larger percentage of today's sets than in years past? I looked at ten random sets: the T206 White Border monster, 1954 Bowman, 1957 Topps, 1966 Topps, 1978 Topps, 1983 Fleer, 1991 Donruss, 1994 Bowman, 1998 Upper Deck, and 2006 Topps. Here are the percentages:

T206 White Border: 2.1% (11/525)
(incomplete tally, though most glaring rookie omission is that of Hall of Famer Harry Hooper, which is surprising considering the set included more than a few cards of flashes-in-the-pan like Lucky Wright.)

1954 Bowman: 1.8% (4/224)
(I didn't count cards of players making their manufacturer debut, like Jim Gilliam and Bill Bruton, much like you can't count Mantle's 1952 Topps card as his rookie card.)

1957 Topps: 5.4% (22/407)

1966 Topps: 16.6% (99/598)
(This set included many team and league rookie cards. In those instances, I counted each individual player, not card.)

1978 Topps: 20% (145/726)

1983 Fleer: 3.5% (23/660)

1991 Donruss: 11.8% (91/770)
(Coincidentally, this set and others in the early 1990s got screwed out of having more true rookie cards because of earlier player appearances in other sets. In this set, the most notable instance is Tino Martinez, whose only 'true' rookie is his Team USA card in 1988 Topps Traded.)

1994 Bowman: 26% (177/682)

1998 Upper Deck: 3.1% (23/750)

2005 Topps: I can't find a single rookie in this set


It's surprising that the second highest concentration of rookies in this list of random sets is in 1978 Topps. I would've guessed that the later sets had more. But what's even more surprising, if we follow our earlier assumptions, is that there were a handful of players pictured in the monster 1909-1911 T206 White Border set that were only in a league for one or two seasons, guys like Harry Gaspar and Lucky Wright (this smacks of the modern-day Bowman plan of giving everybody a card). Their inclusion may not seem important to the makeup of the set, but by including cards of Gaspar and Wright, American Tobacco left others (perhaps more deserving) out of the set, most notably Harry Hooper.

Another interesting idea is raised, this one for modern sets. When a player is included in a set many years before his actual major league debut, can those cards issued directly preceding or after his major league debut be considered rookie cards? Let's go back to the example of Tino Martinez. He made his cardboard debut in 1988 Topps Traded, as a member of Team USA that participated in the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea. His next cards came three years later in 1991, as a member of the Seattle Mariners. None of his cards from 1991 are considered his rookie card, but is this fair?

Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever your opinion, this issue is an important one that still affects the hobby (thus the need for and adoption of an official 'rookie card' notation in recent years).


(The card shown, 1989 Topps Gregg Jefferies, is not his rookie card.)

Goudey Trade-away #10: Rodriguez for 2004 NL RBI Leaders

This trade comes in from Frederick in Lansing, Michigan.

Giving: Ivan Rodriguez, #7
Getting: 2004 National League RBI Leaders, 2005 Topps

Topps has issued a League Leaders subset at least 25 times since 1961. In 1963, cards had upwards of five guys on a card, while during the Seventies it was down to just two, and later in the Nineties they split up the leaders by league and had just one player per card.

Frederick writes: "What is better than having three stars on a single card?" He's right. There's nothing better. Well, let me rephrase that. There's nothing better when your three stars are Orlando Cepeda, Roberto Clemente and Hank Aaron (1968 NL RBI Leaders), or your leaders card features four Hall of Fame pitchers: Gaylord Perry, Bob Gibson, Juan Marichal and Sandy Koufax (1967 NL Pitching Leaders).

But what about when you get a leaders card with six guys on it and you can only recognize one of them (1970 AL Pitching Leaders), or when you can recognize all of the players, but you don't necessarily want to?

League Leaders cards are perhaps my favorite subset Topps has ever done (the MVPs from 1975 being my second favorite). This card of 2004 NL RBI Leaders will be a great addition to my collection (even if it does feature Vinny Castilla).


Trade with me! It will be fun, dammitt!