For most of baseball card history there have been two basic types of card designs. Either the photo is placed in a box* or the player is silhouetted onto a background.** Both of these designs are pretty straightforward with their image requirements in that designers only have to think about what is and isn’t shown in the photos.
*Straightforward but none more pure of an example than 1953 Bowman.
**1914 Cracker Jacks, 1949 Bowman, 1958 Topps, and many of the inserts from the 1980s to today.
There’s a third design though which took over cards in the 1990s and has made photo cropping difficult ever since. Rather than putting photos in boxes the trend toward full-bleed cards has created design after design that layers text and other graphic elements on top of the photo itself.
While it’s true that this design took over in the 1990s and was made extremely easy to do by foil stamping, it’s important to realize that its ancestry has been in cards for decades and in fact tended to surface every decade. So let’s go back to one of the first such designs.
Yup. 1957. I sometimes jokingly refer to this as proto-Stadium Club except that the photos themselves are pretty standard Topps photos that you’d expect to see until about 1991 or so. Posed shots showing a player’s upper body, headshots, and a few full-body “action” (at this point still posed) images.
The first thing to point out here is that Topps likes to put the players’ heads as high in the frame that it can. The next thing to look at—specifically in the Kluszewski and Thompson cards—is how Topps deals with the text overlapping the image. Topps likes to crop at players’ waists and at their necklines. In 1957 this is frequently where the top of the text starts but there’s another half inch of image visible under the text.
On the upper-body portraits this extra half inch can give us a little more information about the location of the photo and allow us to see the field and stadiums.
Photographically, these photos were also composed somewhat loose since the image area of the film is huge* and the photographer knew things would be cropped later. This is why in the Gomez card there’s so much grass in the foreground.
*at least 2 and a quarter inches square and quite likely more like 4 inches by 5 inches.
Now we flash forward a decade. On a lot of other sets* before this the image frame is knocking off a corner of the photo. This isn’t the same kind of design/photography issue since most of the photos are somewhat centered so there’s rarely something of import in the corners.
*eg. 1962, 1963, and 1965. Plus in 1966 there’s a layering effect in the corner.
1967 though is exactly like 1957 only there’s text at both the top and the bottom of the card now. Topps is doing the same thing as it did in 1957 too except that the players’ heads are now a little lower in the frame so that the names and positions can fit. The waist and neckline croppings though are pretty close to the 1957 croppings.
The net result here is that we get to see a lot more stadium details in many of the cards—giving the set a photographic character which differs from the other 1960s Topps offerings.
The Fuentes card though shows the dangers of this kind of design. Unlike the 1957 Gomez, Fuentes’s feet—and even his glove—are covered by the team name. This isn’t a big problem with a posed “action” photo but becomes much more of an issue when we move into the age of action photography.
I’ll jump to Japan for the 1970s since the Calbee sets of that decade deserve a mention. It’s obviously doing something very similar with extending the photo under the text. At the same time the simplicity of the text almost makes it an absence of design. In a good way.
It might be because I can’t read the text but the way it’s handled encourages me to not see it. Not because it’s not readable. Quite the opposite in fact. The way the text changes from black to white on the Sadaharu Oh card is handled masterfully in how my brain barely notices it. It’s there as information but manages to not take anything away from the photos.
It is worth noting though that the cropping on Oh and Davey Johnson is pretty similar to Topps’s standard cropping. And that third card of Hisao Niura tying his shoes has enough foreground space to give the text plenty of room to be legible.
Toppswise I skipped 1969 since it’s such a photographic nightmare that I don’t feel like it’s a fair to look at the photos. (Offhand though it’s interesting to note that it tends to crop the photos tighter at the bottom than 1967’s or 1957’s designs do.) 1980 is close, super close, to being included but it still feels like more of a corner-based design. Which brings us to 1988.
Not much to note with 1988 except for the layering of the player on top of the team name which is on top of the background. This is a wonderfully subtle bit of design that allows the photos to feel like they’re cropped similarly to the rest of Topps’s cards. Instead of getting more image area the layering doesn’t affect the image too much.
1991 brought us Stadium Club and the beginning of the full-bleed era of cards. Looking at this first set shows both that Topps was being pretty considerate with its cropping and how things would start to break.
Where earlier sets had the benefit of posed photos which could be cropped, as action photography began to be the priority for card companies the room for cropping started to decrease. For every card like Kent Anderson where there’s enough room for the graphics there’s a card like Damon Berryhill where the graphic is starting to intrude into the image.
1992 Stadium Club shows an alternative to just slapping a graphic on the bottom of the card. That Topps moves the graphic depending on where it best fits the photo is fantastic.
It’s also a lot of work since it requires each card to be designed individually. Instead of positioning an image into a template, this design requires the image and graphic to be adjusted until they work together. Find the best cropping, then adjust the graphic. This extra amount of work is probably why this approach hasn’t really been revisited since 1992.
By 1993 the standard operating procedure had been set. This design captures the way most sets ever since have been designed. A basic template, drop the picture in. Don’t worry if the graphic obscures an important part of the photo.
One of my pet peeves in the full-bleed era is when there’s a photo of a play at a base and the graphic obscures the actual play. The Bip Roberts is a textbook example of this. Great play at the plate except the focus of the play is obscured by the Stadium Club logo.
This is a shame since in 1993 Upper Deck showed how to do it right. The layering effect like 1988 Topps at the top allows the image to be cropped nice and tight at the top of the frame. Upper Deck though selected photos and cropped them to have empty space at the bottom.
You wouldn’t crop photos in general this way but as a background for the graphics it works perfectly. It forces the photos to be zoomed out enough that you can see the entire player and get a sense of what he’s doing within the game.
Most of the 1990s and 2000s however look like these. I could’ve pulled a bunch more sets—especially from Pacific and Upper Deck—here but they’re all kind of the same. Big foil graphics that cover up important parts of the photo. Some sort of foil stamping or transparency effect that cuts off the players’ feet.
Instead of cropping loosely like 1993 Upper Deck most of the cards in these decades feel like the photos were cropped before being placed in the graphics.
It’s easy to blame the card companies here but this is also a photography thing. Portrait photographers often find the crop after they take the photo. They use larger-format film and understand that the publication might need to crop to fit a yet-to-be-determined layout. Action photographers though get in tight and capture the best moment. This is great for the photos but not so great with baseball cards.
Baseball is a horizontal sport and there’s no reason to include dead foreground space. The only reason to include that space if you know that you’re shooting for a baseball card design that’s going to need it.
We’ll make a brief stop at 2008 though. This isn’t a transparency or overlay design but it’s doing something similar. Rather than the usual cropping at a corner of the image box, Topps placed its logo in a uvula at the top of the image box. Right where it would normally place the players’ heads.
The result? Very similar to 1967’s effect where the photos get zoomed out a little and you see more background. The problem? These photos are already somewhat small and the change to mostly-action means that in most of them you’re just seeing more blurry crowds.
Fred Lewis is emblematic of the standard cropping. Small player image with lots of wasted space in the upper corners. That the posed photos like the Matt Cain are often bare skies at spring training locations instead of in Major League stadiums makes the added “information” there generally uninteresting.
All of this is a shame since the Tim Lincecum shows that when a selected photo is not impacted by the uvula, not only is the photo area not that small but the design can actually look pretty nice.
Okay. To contemporary cards and Topps’s recent dalliance with full bleed designs in flagship. I’m looking at 2017 here since it’s kind of the worst but 2016 to 2018 all do this. The transparency at the bottom of the cards is huge now. Yes it gets blurred out a bit but the photo information still needs to be there and as a result the cropping has to be even tighter.
As much as Topps was drifting toward in-your-face all-action shots, the actual designs of these cards sot of prevents any other kind of action. They also prioritize action that focuses in the top half of the frame. Any plays at a base gate stomped on by the design and even photos like the Chase Headley which don’t focus low in the frame are pretty much ruined too.
It’s easy to blame the TV graphics in Flagship but even Stadium Club—a set I love—has this same problem. On action photos the name/type often gets in the way of the image (compare Tim Anderson to the 1993 Upper Deck Lou Whitaker) but it’s the otherwise-wonderful wide-angle photos which fare the worst.
As the angle gets wider and the players get smaller, the odds that the text becomes intrusive increase tremendously. On Dexter Fowler’s card he’s the same size as the text and, as great as the photo is, the design of the card ruins it. Same goes with the Jose Berrios where the text is covering the entire mound and the ground fog Topps adds for contrast covers the whole playing field.
Which brings us to 2020 and a design that gets a lot of flak because it features sideways names.* What isn’t mentioned very frequently is how moving the transparency effect to the side of the card results in tremendously better photos and photo cropping.
*I don’t mind the sideways names except that I think they should’ve been rotated 180° so that when paged the horizontal cards don’t end up upside down.
All of a sudden we can see players’ feet again. Images aren’t all as in-your-face. We can have action images at second base where you can actually figure out what’s going on. Instead of cropping out the bottom of an image which a photographer has already framed, this design uses the space the photographers already provide for players to “move into.”*
*In action photography you’re generally trying to give the subject some room to move into the frame.
More importantly, it opens up the possibility for great photos that would never have worked in the previous full-bleed designs. For example, Omar Narvaez’s image is impossible to use in any design that puts transparency at the bottom of the card. Even Stadium Club. But 2020 Topps is flexible enough that it can use a wider variety of images.
I hope Topps learns some lessons from 2020 and that if we’re to see further full-bleed designs that they’ll be done in such a way so as to not get in the way of the images or to take advantage of the Transparency to give us more interesting photos.
20 thoughts on “On cropping and layers”
Fascinating look, as always. Makes me rethink the 2020s.
The 1988 Topps and 1993 Upper Deck layering over the team name has the effect of allowing the player to seemingly break free from the confines of his cardboard prison. I have always loved this effect.
I shouldn’t dwell on this but sometimes I just wonder what card companies are thinking when they clutter their photographic compositions with all manner of junk graphics. All should take their cues from the 1953 Bowman and 1957 Topps sets which minimized or eliminated graphics to popular acclaim. Even with minimal graphics we all know who made the sets without the company logo being hammered onto our eyeballs.
I suppose the general rule should be ‘less is more’.
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I like designs. 1965 and 1972 are favorites of mine and neither of those is remotely “less is more.” But yes at the same time more-modern designs have demonstrated a certain lack of restraint. At a certain point in the design process you’ve got to step back and think about if there’s anything superfluous. If I were looking at 2020’s design for example I’d delete the top part of the border on the vertical cards.
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“… delete the top part of the border on the vertical cards.”
Absolutely. Would then be consistent with the horizontal cards as well.
I suppose I should clarify, I love a great design, including the ’65s and ’72s. Also fond of the ’71s which are now back with us on Heritage. But ‘restraint’ is certainly a keyword. Candidly, I think the 2020s are a mess. Sideways or even the occasional upside names are fine. The Fleer ’93s did sideways names, teams, and positions on a bar and even snuck a discreet Fleer logo into the corner without unduly cluttering the photo. The new Topps look like the player is performing inside some kind of vault. The border is too wide and the design they used to contain the name, position and team is indescribably bad. Talking about restraint, why do we need a team name AND a space-hogging team logo right next to each other, one horizontal, the other vertical? And for goodness sake what’s with the angled divot in the upper part of the photo? Too bad because I really like the photography but it pains me to contemplate what might have been with these great shots.
As for the Heritage, I am fond of the design but, like last year, all the spring training locations are boring and hurt the set.
Sorry about the rant. Loved the post.
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The angled divot is only on the vertical cards and like I said I’d delete the rest of the border to turn the design into more of a corner-based design. Full agreement on team name xor logo instead of both. Not sure why Topps has done that for years now.
I don’t actually mind the graphic itself though I do find it a bit too grey. Would much rather see it be in whatever team color contrasts best with the logo (the black parallel Giants cards for example look much better than the base ones) but that would probably screw up Topps’s colored parallel business.
So yeah delete the top border on the vertical cards. Delete the team name. Flip the text 180°. Change the grey to be a contrasting team color. Same basic design but a couple tweaks that look better to my mind’s eye.
Outstanding article! You’ve made me take another look at the ‘67 set as it is a very clean design. Agree with the ‘93 UD thoughts as well, shame there’s a blue million several times over of these out there as the designs are what help sets stay in the minds of collectors. I’ve always thought the 1988 Topps looked like mini Rolling Stone magazine covers from that era.
100% never even thought about this before but super interesting to overlap this new knowledge onto the cards I have.
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This is a pretty concise description of why I write about what I write about.
Another excellent piece that makes you look cards from a totally different perspective. I must mention that 1969 will always be a fantastic set based on the Pilots cards alone.😀
Learned a lot from this very informative post. I have always liked the simple design and the photography of the 1957 Topps set.
Oh, nice to see some 1970s Calbee cards! The text on the Oh card says something like “Attack! Middle of the Fight Series”, while the Niura and Johnson cards say “Giants VI Series” in the upper line, with their names, positions and team in the lower lines.
Note though that while those specific cards are great, Calbee made some truly bizarre cropping choices with some cards over the years. Highlights include:
Insane close up shots like you’ve never seen before:
Players with the top half of their heads cut off:
Cards where its so unclear where the featured player is in the picture they have to write “Third guy from the right” on the front of the card:
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LOL given the sheer size of those sets I’m not surprised to see some stinkers in the mix. What I haven’t mentioned on this post is the need for bleeds to facilitate trimming. The Calbees and early Stadium Club would’ve been printed with the photo bleeding off the edge (standard in the US is .125″ on each side, standard in Japan is probably 5mm). This allows for a bit of miscutting before things look awful. It however requires a lot more trimming than the usual approach of common cuts.
If a photo subject is too close to the edge of the image that can result in odd trims where that bleed is completely cut off. This can be mitigated by the printer when laying out the cards (some early Stadium Club press sheets show individual cards with .0625″ bleeds on one edge) but that requires extra communication.
Modern card printing doesn’t run with bleeds and is, usually, precise enough to get away with this. But you occasionally see cards today which are miscut and show the photo of the card next to it on the sheet.
I kind of suspected that about the extra bleeding beyond the edge. I have handled thousands of Calbee cards from the 70s-80s and never seen a single one with part of another card showing, despite some with obvious miscuts. This contrasts with their rival in the 70s, Yamakatsu, which issued a set with a similar borderless design in 1978. Miscut cards from that set are easy to spot since a bit of the next card is always visible.
My issue with recent years is the size of the design elements. I don’t deny that their placement helps the photography, but I can’t understand why they can’t find a way to reduce the size of the three standard elements (name, team, position) in 1/3 of the space. If you look at Trout, for example. the size of the text is fairly small but they still manage to waste 20% of the card with whatever-the-hell that thing on the left is. Why not write “Mike Trout OF” on the far left edge starting in the lower left and going up the card? Leave the logo and its still a much better card IMO.
You have one job (get name/pos/team on the front), but Topps designers continue to land grab the card space.
This covers a lot of my usual observations and complaints, although you have the technical expertise to give “the reasons why.”
The mid-to-late ’90s sets that you mention with those giant graphics that obscure story-telling components of the picture bother me the most. Pinnacle gets a lot of praise from people who grew up with those cards, but to me those giant gold triangles and other geometric shapes ruin the photo and the card.
2020, I suppose, is going in the right direction, but I don’t think graphic elements on the side is quite it. In short, I’ll always prefer a border.
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Agreed on the border (though I’d love to see a borderless set pull a 93 Upper Deck). Until then though, and as much as I love Stadium Club, I much prefer 2020’s approach on the side instead of covering up whatever’s going on on the ground.