Showing posts with label Rick Reuschel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rick Reuschel. Show all posts

May 02, 2012

Rick Reuschel: Large Father, Disabled Old Person



Rick Reuschel, 1991 Score

‘Sup playa. You cop that new Reuschel?

This was how a typical conversation between my friends and I began back in 1990. My friends and I were awesome.

Of course, I am kidding. The advent of such terminology did not even occur until later in the 90s, and we weren’t always being awesome. I used that intro to sarcastically highlight the fact that we were not very interested in obtaining Rick Reuschel baseball cards.

Why? Well, I can’t speak for my friends, but I was always kind of grossed out by flappy elbow-area skin.

Also, Rick Reuschel pitched for like a million years to the point where you could barely even read the backs of his baseball cards. Even in my later years this has been a nuisance, as I am much more attracted to the tidbits on the backs of cards than the stats, which I can find on the Internet. Reuschel’s long and very solid (twss) career—good for him—left little room, literally, for nonsense—bad for me.

Nevertheless, let’s see what Score could squeeze in.


“Big Daddy,”

Personally, I think Big Daddy is an awesome nickname, and I wish people called me that. There are several reasons why people would call someone Big Daddy, but let’s look at two that don’t involve penises. One, if you’re old and are like a daddy to your team and/or a daddy in real life. (Ex.: "Allow me to impart some tough love on you, Candy Maldanado. I've been around the block a few times, and also I have kids myself, somewhere. So I can speak from experience when I say, you shouldn't be playing music that loud and 'Candy' is a weird name. Change it. Now come here, sit on my lap, and give Big Daddy a hug.") Or, if you’re portly. Score does not elaborate, but thankfully we have Wiki:

His nickname was "Big Daddy" because of his portly physique.

Problem solved.

the Giants ace, pitched only 11 games in ’90 before cartilage damage to his left knee disabled him for most of the rest of the season. At 41, he was the oldest player in the NL.

I’m not sure it’s possible to find a more scintillating back-of-the-card tidbit than what we see here. If this card were an ad for an upcoming movie, the buzzwords would be, “DISABLED!” “OLDEST!” “ACE?” “CARTILAGE!” “PORTLY! – Wikipedia” Also, the movie would be called “Big Daddy,” and a lot of people would go see it thinking Adam Sandler was involved, but it would be two hours of watching Rick Reuschel sitting in the dugout, spitting out sunflowers seeds and intermittently massaging his left knee.

Despite the whims and passing interests of my naïve youth and my current penchant for lightheartedness, it should be mentioned that Rick Reuschel had an excellent baseball career. He pitched 26 complete game shutouts, struck out over 2,000 dudes, and did at least some of that with cartilage coming off his knee and, apparently, elbow. And I can make light of things all I want, but the proof is in the pudding.

Because, yeah—I copped that Reuschel. What of it, playa?

April 29, 2012

Casting Agent: "Breaking In"

It's Sunday, which must mean it's time for another round of Casting Agent, everybody's favorite baseball-card game. The rules: You choose, based on the photograph on the front of their baseball card, the perfect candidate for each role in a film or television show.

Musical television series seem to be popular these days, what with Glee and Smash and, well, maybe that's it. Could that mean that the premise is ripe for a third show? Today I'm casting "Breaking In," a sports operetta and star vehicle for real-life big-league brothers Paul and Rick Reuschel. Think of it as an all-singing The Bank Job meets Friday Night Lights.


"A" Plot: College World Series–winning teammates and twins Paul and Rick are drafted by the same major-league team. The twins are going in opposite directions—Rick's going to be a star and Paul rides the pine.

"B" Plots: The manager masterminds a series of bank robberies—committed by the veterans on the team—in the cities where the team is playing. Paul is making in-roads with the veterans' criminal schemes, while Rick is against the idea of committing a crime.

Characters

1977 Topps Big League Brothers Paul/Rick Reuschel
Paul and Rick Reuschel as Paul and Rick, twins with different baseball destinies

1976 Topps Bill Greif
Bill Greif as Wayne, Rick's pitching rival and team-bus getaway driver

1993 Stadium Club/Ultra Pro Barry Bonds
Barry Bonds as Lamar, a good-natured, generous veteran outfielder and safe-cracker

1980 Topps Bo McLaughlin
Bo McLaughlin as Manager Schnute, former major-league All-Star managing on his laurels. Also criminal mastermind.

1976 Topps Jim Bibby
Jim Bibby as Zero Sampson, veteran pitcher and do-gooder morally opposed to team's criminal activity.

1976 Topps Mike Tyson
Mike Tyson as Rifle Baby, tough-as-nails shortstop and sharpshooter enforcer

1987 Donruss Bob James
Bob James as Country Gold, veteran relief pitcher and loose cannon

Ridiculous boudoir photo of Frank Thomas masquerading as a trading card, 1993 Donruss Studio
Frank Thomas as The Big Hurt, power-hitting first baseman and muscle-bound enforcer

1981 Fleer Dave Parker
Dave Parker as Cobra, a legendary criminal con man, known for banking nearly $10 million in an unprecedented string of 57 daring robberies; special advisor to the team

January 16, 2006

Oh! To Toil Through Life as a Minor Star!

I guess you can’t really call LaMarr Hoyt a minor star. But for two years he was pretty good (1982 & 83), and in the 1987 Topps, he was rewarded with #275 (given to the perennial workhorse Charlie Hough in the 1986 set and golden boy Kevin Seitzer in 1988).

Can you call Rick Reuschel a minor star? I guess he would qualify. I mean, he has a twin brother (Paul Reuschel) and he did win 10+ games for 10 seasons (but he also lost 10+ games for 8 of those seasons and one other season, including a masterful Anthony Young-esque performance for the 1975 Cubs with 17 losses). So maybe he’s just mediocre, remembered for some good years, a few big wins, that kind of thing…like a 1970s Tim Wakefield (though I don’t think Rick was a knuckleball pitcher).

And what about this: there are a ton of guys who, when they retire, can lay claim to stints on more than 6 or 7 teams. I remember being amazed that Juan Beniquez played for something like 7 teams before finally retiring at age 94. But here are a few other guys who matched Beniquez: Doyle Alexander, Dave Collins, Cliff Johnson.

Also, you know what I liked about Topps, and to a certain extent Fleer, was that they listed a guy’s record going back sometimes 15 years or more, both majors and minors. It was even better in the run from 1954-1960 when Topps would label the league in which the team played. You needed an encyclopedic knowledge of leagues, acronyms and how everything mattered to everything else just to read the back of the card. Talk about useless knowledge taking up valuable brain space.

I always thought it was fun to see how long it took a guy to get into the majors. Now card companies make a big deal about draft pick cards (thank you 1985 Topps for introducing the world to the hapless Shawn Abner, #282, and countless others that I poured baseless money-making aspirations into since), but wasn’t it more interesting to track the rookie’s climb through the minors, even if just to be reminded that Little Falls, New York used to have a minor league Mets team?