Best Trade Ever

Look at this card:

s-l1600

Yes, it’s a Joe DiMaggio rookie card, but a fairly reasonably priced one because it has another guy on it. That other guy is Hall of Famer Joe McCarthy!, but collectors find that takes away from the Joe D-ness of it. I’ve been working on my 1936 Goudey Wide Pen Type 1 set and this card was definitely going to be the hardest to find in reasonable condition at a reasonable price. In VG it books for $150 but I knew I’d never get it at that price. I assumed I’d have to pay $250 or more.

Then one appeared with a minimum bid and that minimum bid was $150. Definitely in a VG or better state, with some staining on the back that is hard to see on the front. I thought about it for days, asked myself  a lot of questions about whether I’d be happy with this particular card and that this particular price. I finally realized I’d never get it in this condition for any less, so I put in a bid.

In the last few weeks I’ve been methodically looking for doubles and triples to sell. One of the doubles I had listed was a 1976 Walter Payton rookie card, NM, with a minimum bid of $100. After I bid on the DiMag  card, I got the familiar iPhone ding signifying eBay action. Someone had bid on Payton. Then there was a message. The guy bidding on the Payton card was the same guy selling the DiMaggio! He’s putting together a complete run of Topps football , he liked my card and hoped we could end our respective auctions early.

1976 Payton front059

“Are you offering a one-for-one trade?”  I asked. He was. It was about midnight but I hopped out of bed and ran down to the computer. After a series of messages back-and-forth where we tried to figure out how to do this properly and in accordance with eBay rules (he changed his auction to Buy It Now with Offer and I was able to end my auction early and hit his bid), we got it done. Both eBay and PayPal were cut in on the deal but the end result is I got a Joe DiMaggio/Joe McCarthy card for $17 and an extra card I was willing to trade.

What does this say about value? I now have an 81-year-old card with two Hall of Famers, one of them amongst the most legendary, and the other guy got a 41-year-old card of an equally high level icon. Perhaps the value is in our mutual satisfaction and that’s enough. Prices, ages, maybe none of that really matters. Still, I can’t believe my good luck fortune.

Nineteen more cards to go in this set, with DiMaggio replaced by this guy as the highest priced card remaining:

s-l1600 (1)

Anyone want to trade one for one for this?:

1974 Wilt front017

The Baltimore Unions (not the Monumentals)

In contrast to the fragility of the ill-conceived Altoona Unions, the Baltimore Unions were one of the Union Association’s stronger and more stable franchises. The club was situated as a rival to both the American Association’s Baltimore Orioles and the Eastern League’s Baltimore Monumentals (the Baltimore UA club was exclusively referred to as the Unions, not the Monumentals as currently credited). Under the management of Baltimore baseball mogul, Bill Henderson (whose brother A. H. Henderson was president and principal owner of the UA’s Chicago franchise), they were one of just five UA franchises to complete their full schedule. The Baltimore Unions finished with a 58-47 record, good for fourth place (maybe third, depending on how you want to rate Milwaukee, who played just 12 games).

Despite the club’s relative stability and quality, the roster of the Baltimore Unions is a researcher’s nightmare. 37 different players appeared for Baltimore, including at least 3 whose first name is either unknown or in flux, as well as outfielder, Daniel Sheehan, whose appearance on August 27 is not currently credited. Sheahan played under the alias John Ryan, but is not the John Ryan who pitched for Baltimore that year.

The club lacked pitching depth and so it leaned heavily upon number one starter, 26 year old Bill Sweeney. Sweeney was member of the 1882 Philadelphia Athletics and pitched quite well as the club’s change pitcher. He spent 1883 with Peoria of the Northwestern League and was recruited by Baltimore for the 1884 season. Sweeney pitched very well for Baltimore and was one the league’s top pitchers. He started 60 games, pitched 538 innings and won 40 games. In the process, he shredded his arm and never pitched in the majors again.

Despite strong performances by future major league stars Yank Robinson and Emmett Seery, Baltimore had one of the league’s worst offenses. The biggest culprit was the club’s starting centrefielder, 39 year old Ned Cuthbert. Cuthbert appeared in the National Association’s inaugural season way back in 1871 and he is perhaps best known as the player-manager of the 1882 St. Louis Brown Stockings (thus making him the first manager in Cardinals franchise history). Some sources have him as an influential force in getting Chris von der Ahe involved in baseball. But by 1884, Cuthbert was a poor choice to playing centre field. He hit a meager .202, he compiled a staggering -1.6 WAR in 44 games.

But you’re not here to learn about the roster minutia of the Baltimore Unions, you’re here for Old Judge.

Of the 37 Baltimore Unions, a total of five appeared in the Old Judge set: Yank Robinson, Emmett Seery, Jumbo Schoeneck, Dick Phelan, and Gid Gardner. So let’s learn more about these folks.

1. William H. “Yank” Robinson

Yank Robinson made his major league debut as a 22 year old shortstop, playing 11 games for the Detroit Wolverines before washing out. As a 24 year old in 1884, he did what he did best, draw walks. His modest total of 37 led the league. Keep in mind that Union Association rules meant it took seven balls to draw a walk. Robinson put up a 123 OPS+, while playing 5 different positions including both catcher and pitcher. Thanks to his versatility, which included 75 innings of league average pitching, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch called him the Union Association’s best all-around player. Robinson would join the St. Louis Brown Stockings in 1885 and serve as a vital cog in the club’s burgeoning dynasty. He led the league in walks in both 1888 and 1889 (setting major league records both years with 116 and 118 respectively), despite paltry batting averages of .231 and .208. He finished up his career with Washington in 1892, hitting just .179. Sadly, he died in 1894 at age 34 of tuberculosis, just over two years after playing his last major league game.

Robinson is pictured during his salad days with the St. Louis Brown Stockings. As a star player for one of the best teams in baseball, it is no surprise that he is pictured in six different poses in the Old Judge set.

A “sliding” Yank Robinson:

Goodwin & Company William H. “Yank” Robinson, Shortstop, St. Louis Browns, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1888 American, Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1562) http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/403865
Goodwin & Company
William H. “Yank” Robinson, Shortstop, St. Louis Browns, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1888
American,
Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1563)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/403866
Goodwin & Company
William H. “Yank” Robinson, Shortstop, St. Louis Browns, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1888
American,
Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1561)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/403864
Goodwin & Company
William H. “Yank” Robinson, Shortstop, St. Louis Browns, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1888
American,
Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1564)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/403867

2. Emmett Seery

John Emmett Seery was a 23 year old left fielder for the Baltimore Unions in 1884. He was the club’s best hitter by far, posting a 142 OPS+ on the strength of a .313/.342/.411 batting line. He joined the UA champion St. Louis Maroons when they joined the National League in 1885. Seasons like Seery’s 1885 are good evidence of the disparity of play between the two leagues. In 59 games with St. Louis, he hit just .162/.220/.208. His time with the Maroons was highlighted by a brawl with his teammate, the tumultuous pitcher Charlie Sweeney. Despite his struggles with the Maroons, Seery soldiered on and became a solid major league player. His greatest strengths were his power, speed and walk rate. The Detroit Free Press wrote of his patient approach: [He was] a good enough waiter to preside at a restaurant. His strongest season was probably his 1889 season with Indianapolis where he hit .314/.401/.454 with eight home runs. He also stole over 40 bases three times, with a high of 80 in 1888 (good for second in the National League). After his career ended in 1892, he became the proprietor of a thriving orange grove in Florida. He died in Saranac Lake, New York in 1930.

Seery is pictured in four different poses during his time in 1887 with the Indianapolis Hoosiers.

Seery looking like the coolest man alive in my new favorite Old Judge:

 

 

3. Louis W. “Jumbo” Schoeneck

“Jumbo” Schoeneck was a giant for the time. At 6 foot 2, 223 pounds, he towered over most of the players in his day. Schoeneck was a 22 year old rookie first baseman in 1884. He started the season with the Chicago Unions, where he was one of the league’s strongest hitters, hitting .317/.332/.404 in 90 games. The Chicago club moved to Pittsburgh in late August and then folded on September 19. Reports in the Baltimore papers suggested that both Baltimore and Pittsburgh were under the same management (as mentioned before the Henderson brothers headed up the two clubs). When the Pittsburgh club disbanded, Baltimore signed eight players from the club including Schoeneck. In 16 games with Baltimore, Schoeneck struggled, hitting just .250. He bounced around the minor leagues for the next couple of years, before getting a couple of stints with the Indianapolis Hoosiers in 1888 and 1889. His National League career consisted of 64 games in which hit .237/.283/.260. Nonetheless, he appears in four different poses (with at least 15 known variations) from his time with the Hoosiers and the Western Association’s Chicago Maroons in 1888. He died in his native Chicago in 1930.

Schoeneck demonstrating his bocce form:

 

 

4. Gid Gardner

In a lot of ways, Franklin Washington “Gid” Gardner is the stereotypical uncouth ballplayer of the 1880’s. Amidst various suspensions for drunkenness, fights, and arrests for assaulting women and frequenting brothels, Gardner managed to forge a 12 year professional career, split among 8 different major league squads and at least 11 minor league clubs. Despite his tumultuous personal life, he was a versatile player, who appeared at six different positions in his career. His 1884 season is typical, as he began the season with the American Association’s Baltimore Orioles. After assaulting a prostitute at a brothel in St. Louis, he was put in jail and then suspended by Orioles’ manager Billy Barnie. He jumped to the Chicago Unions. When the Unions folded and merged with the Baltimore Unions, Gardner was not among the players signed. Nonetheless, Gardner found his way into one game with the Unions on September 23. Gardner was back with the Orioles in 1885 and was with Indianapolis in 1887. He was traded to Washington for baseball’s first triple crown winner Paul Hines, where he appeared in 1 game and then was traded to Philadelphia for Cupid Childs, where he appeared in another game. Amazingly, he is pictured in 3 different poses in the 1888 Old Judge set with both Washington and Philadelphia. Gardner’s pro career ended in 1891 and he bounced around local Boston semi-pro teams, never finding stable employment or transitioning to civilian life. He died in 1914. Check out Charlie Bevis’ nice SABR bio for more on Gardner’s “exploits.”

Gardner and Miah Murray in a beautifully framed horizontal card:

 

 

5. Dick Phelan

Goodwin & Company
James Dickson “Dick” Phelan, 2nd Base, Des Moines Prohibitionists, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1889
American,
Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1801)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/404484

A native of Towanda, Pennsylvania, James Dickson “Dick” Phelan would enjoy a to a long professional career that lasted from 1883 to 1899. In 1884, Phelan was the rookie second baseman for the Baltimore Unions. He was a light hitter and his defensive statistics show him to be somewhat average. In 101 games, he hit .246/.268/.316 and put up -1.4 WAR. Phelan moved on to play a handful of games with the Buffalo Bisons and the St. Louis Maroons in 1885 and then became a minor league staple in multiple leagues. At age 44, he was still plugging away with Dallas/Montgomery in the Southern Association. He settled in the south and passed away in San Antonio in 1931.

He is featured with Des Moines in 1889 in four different poses in Old Judge.

Phelan pictured as the dapperest hipster alive:

Goodwin & Company
James Dickson “Dick” Phelan, 2nd Base, Des Moines Prohibitionists, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1889
American,
Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1800)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/404483
Goodwin & Company
James Dickson “Dick” Phelan, 2nd Base, Des Moines Prohibitionists, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1889
American,
Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1802)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/404485
Goodwin & Company
James Dickson “Dick” Phelan, 2nd Base, Des Moines Prohibitionists, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes, 1888–89
American,
Albumen photograph; sheet: 2 11/16 x 1 3/8 in. (6.9 x 3.5 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick (63.350.215.172.1817)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/404487

 

Altoona, 1884

For six weeks in 1884, the Altoona Unions/Mountain Citys/Altoonas were the most unlikely major league team in baseball history. With an 1880 population of 19,710, Altoona, Pennsylvania is the smallest city to field a major league squad. Altoona was the last club to join the ranks of the Union Association (UA), gaining official membership in the 8-team league on February 20, 1884. This gave them just under two months to form a major league club. It is little wonder that the club opened the the Union Association season with 11 straight losses (including 8 straight to the eventual UA pennant-winning St. Louis Maroons).

With middling crowds, except for a couple of Sunday games that drew upwards of 3000 fans (big gates for the time), the Altoonas were in financial trouble. By the end of May, the Altoonas were a dismal 6-17, despite playing their last 18 games at home.

Union Association commissioner and Maroons owner, Henry V. Lucas, was the benefactor/propper up of many struggling UA clubs, but he saw the writing on the wall for the Altoonas. Rather than paying more money to help the struggling club keep going, Lucas had sought out investors in Kansas City, Missouri to replace Altoona. Four Altoona players, Taylor Shafer, Joe Connors, Cleary Cross, and Charlie Berry were enlisted to join the Kansas City Cowboys as they compiled a ramshackle squad that was scheduled to begin play on June 7.

Altoona’s stint as a major league city ended with a whimper, as the Altoona’s lost 5-3 to the Baltimore Unions on May 31.

The club lasted only 6 weeks and only 18 men (including the recently discovered Frank Schiffhauer) can proudly claim to be Altoona Unions. But despite this, there is still a former Altoona player represented in the N172 Old Judge set.

That man would be lifelong Altoona resident George J. “Germany” Smith. In 1884, Smith was a 25 year old rookie shortstop. He would be the only man to play in all 25 Altoona games, and established himself as the club’s best player and one of only two players to post positive WAR for the ill-fated club. He hit .315/.321/.407 with a 142 OPS+. When the Altoona Unions folded, Smith was one of the first players to find work elsewhere, joining the National League Cleveland Blues.

Smith would enjoy a 15-year career, best known as a light-hitting defensive wizard for the pennant-winning Brooklyn Bridegrooms in 1889-90. While 19th-century defensive WAR should be taken with a grain of salt, Smith led the league in defensive WAR four times and assists five times. His 22.8 dWAR is still good for 29th all time (and it is the highest total of any player who played solely in the 19th century). To put it his defensive prowess in perspective, he hit just .191 with a 43 OPS+ and -0.6 offensive WAR for the pennant-winning Bridegrooms in 1890, yet he put up 2.0 defensive WAR and kept his starting job. 

Smith’s major league career ended at the age of 39 after hitting just .159 for the 1898 St. Louis Browns. He died at age 64 in Altoona, his legacy as the Altoona Unions greatest player still intact.

Germany Smith about to make rare contact circa 1887 with the Brooklyn Bridegrooms. Smith has five poses in the Old Judge set, all dated 1887.

 

BRJ 46-2: Andres Galarraga Blast – Topps vs Upper Deck

The latest issue of the Baseball Research Journal has an interesting (and….complex) article concerning on a May 31 1997 Grand Slam hit by Andres Galarraga during an 8-4 Rockies victory over the Florida Marlins .

Left: 1998 UD Tape Measure Titans #2 Andres Galarraga

Right: 2015 Topps Update Tape Measure Blasts #TMB2 Andres Galarraga

The Home Run was initially estimated to be 529 feet by the Florida Marlins. However, later Greg Rybarczyk of ESPN’s Home Run Tracker posted an updated estimated distance of “only” 468 feet.

In the BRJ article a panel of authors (Jose L Lopez PhD, Oscar A Lopez PhD, Elizabeth Raven, and Adrian Lopez) set out to determine which of these estimates was correct. They put together a thorough analysis which of course included significant math and physics, and less expectedly factors such as weather, wind and humidity. The Lopez Lopez Raven Lopez team concluded Galarraga’s Home Run travelled approximately 524 feet. The article is a SIGNIFICANTLY more involved – Go Read It!!

Topps vs UD

The length of the blast makes the Home Run one of the longest in MLB history and I have found the event was captured on cardboard at least twice.

UD Tape Measure Titans

The first time was in the 30 card 1998 Upper Deck Tape Measure Titans insert set which included sluggers McGwire, Bonds, Bagwell, Frank Thomas, Sosa, Junior, Manny, Thome, Piazza, A-Rod, Chipper and others.

Upper Deck went with a retro feel for this subset. I like the Tape Measure graphic at the bottom of the screen. UD went with the 529 foot calculation provided by the Marlins and we can see the gauge dropped at the proper point.

Now on to my dislikes, Andres Galarraga hit this Home Run as a member of the Colorado Rockies, during the following off-season he went to Atlanta via free agency. Unfortunately that leaves us with a player in a uni that does not represent the accomplishment. UD Also elected, on a hitting related card, to use a fielding pose.  However for me the most egregious violation is that the “Upper Deck” logo absolutely dwarfs Galarraga’s name.

Topps Tape Measure Blasts

Tape Measure Blasts was a 15 card insert set in 2015 Topps update. Notables in this set include Reggie, Clemente, Ted Williams, Josh Gibson, David Ortiz, Albert Pujols, Mike Trout, Giancarlo, and a Ryan Howard card that should really be in my collection.

The Topps card has the benefit of being produced 17 years after the UD original. By 2015 Galarraga was a retired player. At this point Topps could put the Big Cat in whatever threads they wanted and fortunately he is with the Rockies here. Topps gets bonus points for getting the Marlins stadium of the era, Pro Player, on the card.

Of course the big difference in the cards is that Topps went with ESPN’s figure for the distance.

Flip

The Retro theme carries through to the back of the Upper Deck card (Top) and they did a nice job. This is as solid as some Heritage designs.

The text on the Topps card gives us some good copy on the Home Run including name dropping Hall of Very Good pitcher Kevin Brown.

Phungo Verdict

Despite the Topps card using the discredited distance I prefer their card. Too many things annoy me with the Tape Measure Titans – and I didn’t even mention that I really don’t like that name.

Sources & Links

SABR Baseball Research Journal Fall 2017

Bob Lemke – Standard Catalog of Baseball Cards

Game Dated Cards Index

Baseball-Ref

eBay

MLB

What’s good about grading and slabbing

From the posts I’ve read (and I read ’em all. It’s great being retired), more than a few members of this group don’t think much of card slabbing. I have plenty of ungraded cards, but I admit that I have my favorite sets encased in plastic by PSA (Professional Sports Authenticator, as I imagine most of you know). I don’t especially like how PSA dominates the grading market, but I do appreciate, as self-serving for PSA as it is, the set registry. You can list your cards, even your ungraded cards, by the way, on the registry for free, even if you are not one of the PSA “Collectors Club,” members.

The basic advantages, from my standpoint, of slabbing is preservation of condition,  a record of ownership (each card has a certification number) and, to a lesser degree, an assurance of quality — this applies mainly when you are buying a card. If you’re buying a card online, you’re trusting the seller’s description, no matter how good the scan looks. And I don’t find having the card in a plastic slab a distraction or detraction.

Is it worth it? That depends. If you submit cards directly, rather than through a dealer, you generally have to fork over $6 or more to get PSA to grade a card, and that’s if you use the changing offers of the Collectors Club ($100 or more year but with a few free gradings and a monthly magazine), often having to send in at least 25 cards at a time. And the return shipping charge starts at a minimum of $18. But I get most of my PSA cards on ebay or from dealers, which keeps me from going bankrupt.

When I submit cards to PSA, I’m often disappointed at the grades, although I have become better at knowing what will drag a grade level down. Honestly, it’s still hard for me to tell the difference between a PSA 8 and a PSA 10. I assume most of us here would consider an “EX 5”  to be a pretty nice card, too. I have a bunch of ’64 Topps that are 5s, and I’m perfectly happy with them. On the other hand, my 1984 Topps set, which ranks no. 2 on the registry, has only 9s and 10s. Once you get out of the ’70s, you probably would not want a slabbed card with a grade less than 9, although you should be able to get those lower grades for next to nothing.

I suppose there are people who view graded cards as an investment. (I’m not one of them.) Certainly, graded cards command higher prices than their ungraded equivalents.

I’m not trying to convince anybody to have his or her cards graded, but it’s good to keep an open mind about it. Collectors like me are glad there are collectors like everyone else with SABR who still loves baseball cards — slabbed or not.

An ode to El Tiante

1974

As August 1972 dawned, Red Sox reliever/spot-starter/afterthought Luis Tiant sported a 4-4 record with a 3.18 ERA. This was actually a positive and surprising turn of events — Tiant had been discarded a year earlier and his making the Red Sox in April was more a reflection of their sad pitching staff than it was Tiant’s spring mound work.  No matter what manager Eddie Kasko might have said.

On August 1 the Red Sox were 47-46, fourth place in the six-team AL East, a mediocre team on the way to a mediocre finish.  No one was blaming Tiant — he’d been given an unimportant role, and he had performed it with aplomb.

I was with my father and grandfather in the third base grandstand for his July 22 start against the A’s, his fifth start of the season. I generally attended one or two games a year, and this was the one.  The pitching matchup was Tiant against Catfish Hunter, which seemed hardly fair though both pitchers departed a 3-3 game eventually won by Oakland.  What are you gonna do?

Luis Tiant, as I well knew, had had some excellent seasons (especially 1968) with the Indians, had been traded to the Twins (1969), had badly hurt his throwing arm (1970), was released (1971), and finally was picked up by the Red Sox and sent to the minors. I loved Tiant in his pre-Red Sox days.  I liked his name, and I especially liked the way he looked on his baseball cards. Handsome as hell, and he looked like he came to win.

1968   1971

But this was not my first rodeo. I was plenty old enough (10) to know that injured and discarded pitchers did not suddenly become uninjured.  I figured I’d never hear his name again.

The Red Sox called Tiant up in June, and he was in and out of the rotation for two months. By early August he was 0-6 with a 6.44 ERA, and Kasko was mocked in the local papers. Tiant didn’t start again, thankfully, but he stuck around in the bullpen the rest of the season and pitched better.  The Red Sox gave him an invitation to spring training the next year, but he had no shot to make the team.

None.

Topps didn’t even put him on a 1972 baseball card. Understand: Topps gave everyone a baseball card, which is one of the things I loved about baseball cards.  Bobby Pfeil, who the Red Sox acquired a week before the season started but immediately sent to the minor leagues, never to return to the majors, got a baseball card as a member of the 1972 Red Sox.

1972-topps-681-bobby-pfeil-36652

Luis Tiant did not get a card because Topps figured Tiant was finished.

On March 22 the Red Sox traded Sparky Lyle to the Yankees, an infamous deal that came with the side effect of saving Tiant’s job.  Give Eddie Kasko credit: he believed. Luis survived as a bullpen option who could also spot start.  Four months later his utility role had not changed.

He saved a game against the Yankees on August 2, then pitched two complete game wins over the Orioles on the 5th and 12th.  He pitched another game in relief (still not in the rotation!) before starting on the 19th at Chicago’s Comiskey Park.  The result was a 2-hit shutout, the first hit coming on a Carlos May double in the 7th. After the game, Kasko finally announced the obvious: Tiant would remain in the rotation. The team was suddenly just 3.5 games out of first.

Over the next four weeks I fell in love with Luis Tiant, and I have never really fallen back out.  It wasn’t the love I had for Agent 99, but it was love just the same.  I loved the look, the accent, the cigars in the shower. I loved the way he walked to the mound, stood on the mound, stared in to get the sign from Carlton Fisk, the 20 different windups, the 10 pitches thrown from several different angles and speeds.  And the fact that he got everyone out, that was also nice.

His next start was another shutout, and then another, and then another.  Four in a row, before he settled for a 4-2 win over the Yankees on September 8. After a shocking 3-2 loss in Yankee Stadium on the 12th, he shut out the Indians four days later.

This is about the time we all finally noticed, “Hey, wait a minute, Tiant doesn’t have a baseball card this year?  WTF was Topps thinking?” Thereby using both absurd revisionism and 21st century twitter jargon.

I was therefore doubly thrilled when this issue of the Sporting News showed up, with its “Boston’s Surprising Ace” headline.  If you ever want to see this issue, you can find it hanging in my office to this very day.

 

On September 20, when Tiant walked to the mound to face the Orioles, a sold-out Fenway Park crowd rose to its feet and cheered his entrance (his teammates joining in) and began chanting “Loo-EEE, Loo-EEE,” a refrain that would become a common Fenway sound over the next few years.

This went on for the rest of the night, growing especially loud when Tiant batted in the eighth, grounded to the pitcher, exchanged batting helmet for glove, and strode back to the hill. He finished his shutout, his sixth in his last eight starts, to total bedlam. Carl Yastrzemski, who knew a thing or two about starring in a pennant race, said that he had never witnessed such devotion.

Tiant pitched two more complete games wins before losing  a 3-1 heartbreaker in Tiger Stadium on October 3, a game that decided the division. Let’s not dwell on that.

For the season, the washed up spot-starter had finished 15-6, 1.91, capturing the league’s ERA title and various comeback awards.  This was just the beginning, of course. He would have many heroic moments in the coming years in Boston in pennant races and post seasons. (His September-October record for the Red Sox was 31-12.) But it started in August 1972.

1973

The most anticipated baseball card in New England in 1973 is right here.  Finally, our nightmare was over. Interesting — the photo was almost certainly taken in the spring of 1972, right about the time Topps moved heaven and earth to get Bobby Pfeil on a card.

The next time I saw Tiant pitch in person was June 24, 1974, against the Brewers.  No longer a spot-starter, Luis was instead one of the biggest stars in the game. I was thrilled that it was Tiant’s turn, and even more thrilled at the 9-0 shutout.

I sent Tiant a letter around this time, and received a signed copy of this card.  He had grown his trademark Fu Manchu, which he still sports.

1974Yearbook

Many years later, when I finally got up the nerve to submit an article to SABR for publication, it was the life story of Luis Tiant, which appeared in the Baseball Research Journal about 20 years ago.  I have updated it a few times, and it is on the web.  When I was fortunate enough to meet Tiant at the 2002 SABR convention in Boston (thanks to Anthony Salazar!), he gave me a cigar.

Once again, Luis Tiant’s candidacy for the Hall of Fame is up for debate.  Am I biased?  Of course I am biased.  Vote for him, please. It would be the capper to my 45-year love affair.

loutiant_1978_tbb1_345_black

 

 

The Bono View of Cards

I feel I’ve been gone a long time since the last post. I’ve been buried under boxes of cards, in the midst of a full search and seizure of sellable doubles and triples (or how about five extra 1975 Topps Pete Maravich cards in NM condition?) in my collection.

1975 Maravich front043

Before I dove into that colossal project, I ordered my 2017 Topps set. I always get my factory set at the end of the year. I used to not be able to wait that long and, in the 1980’s and 1990’s, I ordered all the sets – Donruss, Fleer, Score, Upper Deck, Topps – as early as they were released.

Two Wednesdays ago I put my factory set in numerical order (it drives me crazy that they are not already that way, but it does give me a couple of hours to go through each one, the longest time I’m ever likely to spend with any recent set). At the same time, well, not exactly at the same time but on the same day, I put away some new 1968’s and 1969’s, and a 1960 Don Zimmer, in sheets. The contrast between new new and old new was striking.

The differences, and what I like and dislike are not really in the designs. The 2017 Topps is nice enough and I’ve always found the 1969 set atrociously boring. The differences are in the times we live in, how we all process information and what we require in stimulation.

The 1960 cards confidently deliver simplicity – a portrait, a posed action shot, some stats, long or short, and a cartoon. The mix of colors and varied detail, like the L.A. Coliseum behind Zim’s giant noggin, give an OK set a lot of character. If 1960 is simple, 1969 is atavistic. It is beyond basic, and that would be OK if the pictures weren’t so mind-numbingly uninteresting. How many 33-year-olds who look 70 do we really need?

1969 Clay Dalrymple (f2)

The 2017 cards are a bombardment of foreground and background, bright constantly changing colors and a flurry of things to take in. They represent their time as much as some capless ancient did almost 50 years ago. This card gives me a headache, and many others left me feeling seasick.

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There are nice cards for sure, like this Puig,

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and I’m glad to have the set to keep my consecutive year streak alive. Still, I was left feeling that there is a happy middle out there for Topps, photo-wise. What makes the 1971-1990’s set so fulfilling is the mix of still life and action. Now you have to buy two different sets to capture the blend that was standard back then.

I don’t have any real conclusion to make. As I march toward completing the 1969 set I’m not overly enthused by the cards, though happy about getting close to the finish line. And now that my 2017 set is filed away, it’s unlikely I’ll refer back to it much. I buy out of obligation. I still haven’t found what I’m looking for in a contemporary card set. Maybe that’s why I’m having so much fun going through stacks of doubles from 40+ years ago. Beyond the nostalgia, those cards bring a more interesting and enjoyable viewing experience.