The World Needs a Retro Donruss Studio Set

Topps can conjure nostalgia for a wave of collectors just by opening a random file cabinet in its overstuffed HQ and producing a legacy design series like Archives or Heritage. And yet, the 13-year-old in me still thinks that nothing beats 1991's "sophisticated," "artistic," and high-cheese-quotient Studio. So tell us, Donruss: What's stopping you from jumping into the retro deep end with both feet?

Here's what I'm looking for:

1. Tasteful black and white photography of men with mullets. I understand that standard baseball hair fashion these days consists of goatees, mountain-man beards, and Mohawk variations, so you might want to stock a few mullet wigs with your photography equipment.

2. Hats optional. And actually, without a MLB license, I'd even accept a 225-card series of players in street clothes, or warmup shirts. Or even Ebbets Field Flannels jerseys of forgotten PCL teams.

3. Autographed buy-backs of Ramon Martinez, Steve Lake, Roger McDowell, Sammy Sosa, Jeff Bagwell, and Kevin Belcher. Really, it would need a 25-to-30-player autographed buy-back checklist featuring the most memorable photos from the original set.

4. Trivial personal interest filler on the backs. Who watches Orange Is The New Black? Or what about The Bachelorette? Or Adventure Time? Also, I'd like to know if more players today would list "Jesus Christ" as their personal hero than did in 1991 (11 players back then, including Alvin Davis, who listed his heroes as "Jesus Christ and Harold Reynolds").

5. No inserts. I realize that this last one is a tall order for a card company in the business of making money. So how about just a few parallels? Definitely needs a one-per-pack stamped, original buyback from the 1991 series. Then a six-per-box "Outtakes" parallel, which would be a photo variation. Finally, a much-harder-to-find "Negatives" parallel, which would show up once every few boxes, maybe like one or two per case.

Even without that pesky MLB license, this could be a nice, low-frills retro set that harks back to a simpler time when men wore a workingman's haircut, enjoyed shows like A Different World, Cheers, and Unsolved Mysteries, and collected porcelain figures of animals (well, maybe that was just you, Glenn Davis).

'Sup

Harold Reynolds, 1989 Topps

'Sup girl.

Me? Just hanging out by this fence, takin' it all in, letting the sun wash over me. What camera? Pfft. Didn't even notice it. Yo man, get outta here with that mess! For real ... a baller can't even smile handsomely along a fence these days without some paparazzo trying to snap a pic. It's crazy out here in the 8-9.

So whatchu drinkin' on? Oh yeah? I like that, I like that. So yo, check for me later. I'll be out in the field. I'll be the one with the golden glove, so don't let it blind ya', okay? Alriiiiight.

Oh, and they call me H.R. But somethin' tells me you already knew that. Winks. Holla.

A Day Too Nice For Sorting Baseball Cards, And Yet...

Sun's shining, there's not much wind besides a faint breeze, birds are chirping, traffic's light, neighborhood kids are quiet––it's a glorious day. And I'd be out there, too, if I weren't sorting baseball cards. Instead I've got Langhorne Slim and The 1900s pumping on the stereo, a glass of ice water and 150,000 of my closest friends spread out in messy stacks on the dining room table.

Here are some highlights:


I got this Doug Flutie in a box of CFL cards I bought in 1991. Not quite sure why I bought CFL cards, let alone a whole box of them, but I'm glad I have this card of Flutie. By the way, if you live in the Boston area, the service road to the Framingham 14 movie theater complex is called 'Flutie Pass,' making it officially the greatest name for a road in the history of mankind.


What exactly is the purpose of having so many different parallel versions of this set (1952 Style Topps Basketball)? The blue ones look okay, but these gold ones are really bad. This one's numbered 13/25. I think it would be awesome for Topps or UD to make a 0/0 set. Since the set would have no cards in it, it would be the world's rarest. Or maybe to be more practical, the set could be won through a redemption card, consisting of rejected card art. That might be kind of cool, actually.


When I went to pick this card up it bent itself into an origami swan. That's not true, but I count eight creases, like an aged palm. This is my kind of card.


If the NHL ever decides to plop a team down in Quebec City again, I would recommend a team consisting of Muppets. I know I'd go to at least two games, maybe three if they could convince an over-the-hill Eric Lindros to coach. I smell reality-show gold if this gets the green light.