Anna and the 1961 Yaz Card

1961 Yaz

I didn’t make Anna out for a baseball fan.  Not in a million years.  But, the more we talked about life and our lives, the more interesting she became.  Then she said she loved baseball.  Uh, what, as I did a double-take.

Turns out, she grew up near up not too far from Shea Stadium, and of course was a Mets fan.  She had been to tons of games early in her life and fondly recalled getting home from school one afternoon in October and her mother running out to tell her that the Mets had just beat the Baltimore Orioles to claim the 1969 World Series title.  It was the best moment of her baseball life, she said with a gleam in her eye.

She was never so beautiful as she was at that moment, telling me this story.  From then on, all we talked was baseball.  She was several years older than me, and married.  As a young and single guy, I was amused.  Still, we could talk about the Mets, and her favorite players, and growing up in the Queens neighborhood of Jamaica.

Despite all the interesting players filling the Mets rosters over the years, that included Seaver Koosman, Kranepool and Grote, Anna threw me a curveball when she said with emphasis that her all-time favorite player was Carl Yastrzemski.  Yeah, Yaz.  The Hall of Fame MVP, Triple Crown winner, 18-time All-Star, 7-time Gold Glove left fielder for the Boston Red Sox!  When I asked why him, she said that he was Polish (her ethnic background), and with a gush, she continued, “he was so handsome!”  Alright then, Yaz was her guy.  Cool!

I pondered our conversation that evening, and the day after, thinking about Yaz and the 1969 Mets, and the 1973 Mets, and the 1986 Mets.  I wanted to give Anna something special, something unique, something that I know she didn’t have.  Maybe a baseball card from my collection.  But, nothing would be as special as a 1961 Yaz card, the one with the rookie star, which I did not have.  As it so happened, there was a trading card shop several blocks from my house.  Armed with a binder of good stuff and the best of intentions, I ventured out into the night after work to do a little horse trading.

This was summer 1995, and the card guy wanted something like 30 bucks for that 1961 Topps #287 card.  It might have been $25.  Regardless, I didn’t have cash, and was prepared to haggle.  He looked through the pages of my binders with some mild interest, knowing that he had me over a barrel after I foolishly indicated the card was for a girl.  He would leaf through a couple of pages and stop, and continue turning pages, stopping again, and turning some more.  I had been in his shop on a number of occasions to peer with envy at the cards on the glass shelves, or sift through the commons in the boxes in neatly arranged stacks.  The glass shelf cards were always out of my price range, but it was harmless to covet.

Yaz_No Deal

I had an idea of what he might find interesting, and tried to steer him towards a few of my cards from the early to mid-1970s, hoping to entice him with my 1971 Steve Garvey rookie card (#341) or my 1973 Rod Carew (#330).  Heck, I thought my 1974 Reggie Jackson (#130) looked pretty good, too.  Unfortunately, he had those, and wasn’t interested.  He flipped through the pages one more time before settling on my 1974 Tom Seaver (#80), 1975 Dave Winfield (#61) AND my 1976 Johnny Bench (#300).  Really?  All three?  He went to his cabinet and pulled out that ’61 Yaz, and seemed to wave it in my face.  Taunting me.  Or least that’s what it felt like.  I looked at Tom and Dave and Johnny, wondering if they knew what I was about to do.

Yaz_Traded

The 1974 Tom Seaver card was one of several Topps cards that year featuring the player in a landscape position.  The photo featured a great action shot of Tom Terrific pitching off the mound at Shea.  The ’75 Winfield card featured the third-year player at home in San Diego taking a few cuts, perhaps before the start of the game.  I always liked the Bench card from the 1976 collection.  He’s featured as a “NL ALL STAR” lettered within a star shape that also indicated his position.  The photo shows him standing in what appears to be moments after a close play at the plate because there’s still a cloud of dust enveloping him, as he stands with there in his catcher’s gear sans the mask.  I always liked those catchers’ cards.  Topps always seemed to do a good job at capturing the catcher working his tail off behind the plate.  Bench, in this card, seems to be ready to fight, ready to defend his plate.

I looked down again at those three cards and closed my eyes and made the deal.  The guy took my cards away and presented me with the ’61 Yaz tucked inside a hard plastic sleeve.  It wasn’t the best of deals, but it was the best that I could do.  I had hoped that someday I might get them back.  Right now, they were gone, and that was that.  But, now I had something special for someone special.  That thought lightened the short walk back to my apartment.

At lunch the next day, I surprised Anna with the card.  She was overjoyed.  She laughed and smiled, and held the card to her heart.  Suddenly, the trade didn’t seem so bad.  It was a great trade, in fact.  We talked about Yaz and the 1967 World Series, and the fortunes of the Boston Red Sox, and the fortunes of the Seattle Mariners, who were catching fire that summer.  I was pleased that Anna liked the card so much.

The next day, she presented me with a curious thing: a Cleveland Indians button with an attached talisman from the 1940s.  It was her grandfather’s, she said.  She wanted me to have it.  I never knew if she had any other baseball things, but I got the impression this object meant a great deal to her.  I took it from her with great care and appreciation, and promised to take good care of it.  For nearly 25 years, I’ve kept that Cleveland Indians button with attached talisman in a box in a little plastic bag.  Every so often I come across that thing and think of Anna and the 1961 Carl Yastrzemski card.

Augmented Reality and the Baseball Card

T-Mobile AR package

On a recent visit to the newly-christened T-Mobile Park, home of the Seattle Mariners, game-day hosts passed out packs of baseball cards.  Only, these cards were unlike anything that we may have seen before.  T-Mobile, flexing their technology muscle, has worked to create augmented reality (AR) baseball cards.  The packaging text tells you to download the T-Mobile Tech Experience app, then you are to scan the cards (there are three in the pack) with the app and see the card come to life through this augmented reality technology.

Moose

The first card is the Mariner Moose, the hometown nine’s venerable mascot.  The card depicts the Moose with one hoof (!) in the air, and the other facing the camera.  Under the AR scan, the Moose is dancing around in what appears to be a several second video, akin to something out of the Harry Potter world.  The reverse side features a rather nice biography of the Moose, describing his origins.

TMP

The second card depicts a night time scene of T-Mobile Park overlooking Edgar Martinez Drive facing north, with the roof open.  Under the AR scan, we are treated to a several second fireworks display, with the phrase, “WELCOME TO T-MOBILE PARK” superimposed on the fireworks display.  The reverse side of the card gives you a bit of information on the ballpark, but mainly indicates some to the T-Mobile features fans will experience.

Truck.jpg

The third and final card shows what must be a T-Mobile fan truck, where according to the back of the card, you are supposed to visit and use a barcode and scan yourself a chance to win a prize.  The Mariners beat the Boston Red Sox that day, so that was prize enough for me!

Anyway, I got a chance to see AR technology at an art museum last year, which was featured as part of the art exhibition and found it an interesting use of technology.  In doing some initial research on AR, I found a simply-put definition from HowStuffWorks.com: “Augmented reality is the blending of interactive digital elements – like dazzling visual overlays, buzzy haptic feedback, or other sensory projections – into our real-world environments.”

So, that is, when using this app (or AR glasses) you can scan something that is coded with AR to see an interactivity come to life.  It’s pretty cool stuff, especially when you start thinking about its applicability to real baseball cards.  Imagine using AR on your next set of Topps cards and see the images of the ballplayers come to life taking a swing, or throwing a pitch or catching a ball!   The possibilities for such use may be boundless.

The Great Wax Pack Derby: A New Participation Project

wax pack derby

Based on the success of the Conlon Collection Project, we are embarking on a new – and hopefully interesting – project.  We’re calling this The Great Wax Pack Derby!  It’s a group writing collective, like Conlon project.

The idea is to get donations of somewhere between 50 to 100 wax packs of baseball cards that might include Topps, Bowman, Fleer, Upper Deck, etc., ensuring that they are in fact, wax packs

Once we have gathered up a critical mass of wax packs, we will send out a solicitation to SABR Baseball Card Committee members who may be interested in receiving a wax pack.  The idea, again, like the Conlon Project, is that those members who receive a wax pack are then obligated to select one card from that pack to write about.

Once we have gathered large groups of stories, we will post them – at least five stories a week – to the SABR Baseball Card committee blog.  It would be ideal to have this project completed by the end of Spring (in time for the SABR Convention in San Diego)!

So, if you are interested in donating a few wax packs from your collection to this project, we would be very grateful for your contribution.

Again, this is a group writing collective that benefits our SABR Baseball Card Committee.  Send me an email, and let me know if you are willing to donate a few wax packs from your collection.  I’m at salazar8017@yahoo.com

 

Thank you!

Anthony Salazar

The Tallest Mexican: Remembering Hank Aguirre

aguirre collection

A more than a decade ago, I found an intriguing book at the Seattle Library Book Sale that caught my eye for several reasons.  It was called, “The Tall Mexican: The Life of Hank Aguirre, All-Star Pitcher, Businessman and Humanitarian.”  The cover art featured a beautiful painting of a brown pitcher in a Detroit Tigers uniform.  As a Chicano baseball historian, the appeal is pretty obvious.  What’s cool is that I had never heard of Hank Aguirre and was not aware of his work on the diamond, or life after baseball.

The book breaks down into two parts, the first covering his life in baseball, and the second part addresses his life in the business world.  Both sections paint an incredible image of a great guy, to which I found great pride.  It’s not that often that Mexican-American ballplayers craft such successful careers for themselves that galvanize many communities over one lifetime.

With that pride buoying my heart, I went in search of more info on Hank Aguirre, and surprisingly found very little.  Aside from the book, and an obituary, there was not much on Hank.   The basics were this: over the course of a 16-year pitching career with the Cleveland Indians, Detroit Tigers, Los Angeles Dodgers and Chicago Cubs, Aguirre went 75-72 with an ERA of 3.25 in over 1,375 innings pitched over 447 games and two All-Star Game appearances.  The bulk of his career, of course, was with the Tigers.

At some point, I’ll write a SABR BioProject article on Hank, but in the meantime, I satisfied myself with obtaining every one of his Topps baseball cards, beginning with his 1957 Cleveland Indians card (#96).  I have 14 cards, indicating that his first two season with the Tribe, where he played a total of 10 games did not warrant a baseball card.

I had never amassed the total collection of any one player before.  But Hank seemed to resonate with me.  He was a southern California Mexican-American like me, and a tall, brown dude, like me.  Though Hank has a couple of inches on me, his 6-4 to my 6-2.  Regardless, over the years I have sifted through the 14 cards looking at the styles of cards over the years, looking at his poses, and how he had aged over the years.  His 1957 card (#96) has a similar pose to his 1961 card (#324).  His 1969 card (#94) pretty matches up with the 1968 card (#553), both indicating his affiliation with the Dodgers, while obviously sporting his Tigers uniform.  Topps recycled numerous photographs from the 1968 series, and cropped the photos differently for use in the 1969 set.  Though, Hank is sporting a blacked out ballcap in his 1969 shot.  It’s unfortunate that the Southern Californian never had a card in his Dodgers uniform.  That would have been pretty cool!  In the book, though, there is a great shot of him in a 1969 Dodgers uniform posing next to Willie Mays.

The majority of his cards depict a smiling Hank.  The smile is infectious, and you think, wow, he looks like a nice guy.  In other years, he is pictured in a serious, albeit thoughtful demeanor.  Flipping though the cards also provided me the opportunity to refresh my knowledge and instant recall of the card style of the vintage era.

Hank’s last card is with the 1970 Chicago Cubs (#699), though he makes a cameo appearance on the 1973 Topps Whitey Lockman card (#88).  Lockman was the Cubs manager that year, and Hank was the pitching coach, and was pictured along with other Cubs coaches including Ernie Banks and Pete Reiser.

For now, Hank’s cards will stay tucked in their plastic pocket pouch until I decide what to do with them next.  Maybe matte them in a single collage or something along with his photo.  To me, he will always be the tallest Mexican!

 

Cha-Cha and the Circle K

Cepeda_1985 Circle K

You know how it goes.  For me it was several years ago — I think it was at the Long Beach SABR event — when I came across a baseball card bearing the image of Orlando Cepeda, one of my favorite players.  The card was not your typical Topps product, but I didn’t care.  I thought it looked interesting, so I bought it for a few of bucks.  I tucked it away in a book that I had just bought as well, and promptly forgot about it.  It happens!

Not too long ago, I was sorting through a few baseball books and came across the Cepeda card.  “Oh yeah,” I said to myself, renewing my interest, now with a little more clarity and frame of mind.  I wondered a bit more about the card.  Here’s what I got:

The Cepeda card is #24 of a 33-card Topps set distributed in 1985 exclusively by Circle K, the convenience store chain.  The set reminded me of the Woolworth set I wrote about last year.  This series featured all-time home run hitters, with Hank Aaron occupying the top spot, of course.  Other players include Willie Mays (#3), Billy Williams (#18), Mike Schmidt (#19), and Norm Cash (#25).  Interestingly, because Topps could not come to an agreement with Joe DiMaggio, who was 31st on the all-time home run list in 1985, his card was omitted from the set.  Consequently, the series list skips #31, going from #30 to #32.

Aside from his photo, the card indicates Cepeda’s name and nothing else.  No position, no cute graphic.  Just a serious, albeit young-looking, Cepeda photo, probably in the early stages of his career with the San Francisco Giants.  The reverse side of the card in blue and red ink, features a run down of his MLB career with a highlight noting his Rookie of the Year Award in 1958, and 1967 NL MVP Award.  The Circle K logo is featured prominently in the upper left side, with the Topps logo and card number to the upper right.

I don’t have a lot of specialty cards such as this, so I’ll just keep this one displayed somewhere on a shelf.  It will remind me of when Cha-Cha ruled the City by the Bay. And maybe if something else catches my eye at a SABR conference, I won’t forget about it for years at a time!

 

It doesn’t make you any less of a man; or One picture is worth at least 500 words

Once every so often I flip through the vintage Topps cards I was gifted last year (greedily wishing for more – is that bad?!?), just looking at the cards and appreciating the artwork and the style, perhaps feel a bit nostalgic.  There’s a 1957 Luis Aparacio, 1965 Zoilo Versailles, 1959 Hector Lopez, among others, and then there’s the 1963 Mike Fornieles.

 

In all my readings and various research projects, I must admit I had

Mike Fornieles_1963 correctnever heard of Mike Fornieles.  Even as I had flipped through these cards at least a few times over the past year, he was such an anonymous player to me that I had failed to notice one bizarre feature of this 1963 “treasure” until the

other day.  I was working on my annual SABR Hispanic Heritage Month Celebration posts looking for ideas, and thinking about recent discussion on the SABR Baseball Cards page about whether or not people liked the idea of Topps “recycling” their vintage designs when applying them to modern players.  I wrote that I hoped the idea encourages others to appreciate the vintage style as I do, and I’m sure as many of you do, as well.

 

So, flipping through the cards I come across the Fornieles card (#28) and realize of the first time that somFornieles incorrect 1ething is amiss.  You might recall that the 1963 Topps series was a 576-card set featuring a large player photo with a smaller photo in the lower right size, about the size of a postage stamp.  Well, my card features half the guy’s body missing in that lower right section.  Take a look at the photo.  There’s some kind of pencil marking, I think, that separates the larger photo and the player identification section.  Further, while the card has a gloss or sheen to its face, the section where Fornieles’ smaller photo would be, is more of a matte finish than glossy, like someone took an eraser and rubbed out the poor guy’s face.  It’s a mystery as to how the card wound up this way.  The card is otherwise in impeccable shape.  Nice corners, no creases, excellent condition, I’d say.

 

As for the player Mike Fornieles, the Cuban-born pitcher broke in with the Washington Senators as a 20 year-old in 1952, throwing in only 4 games going 2-2 towards the end of that season.  Over the next 11 years he spent time on the mound for the Chicago White Sox, Baltimore Orioles, Boston Red Sox, and was traded to the Minnesota Twins to close out his career in 1963.  Over his 12 year-career, he went 63-64 with a 3.96 ERA in 432 games with over 1156.2 innings pitched.

 

I don’t know if this 1963 Mike Fornieles #28 Topps card is worth anything in this condition, but it does make for an interesting story.  Once again, I was pleasantly surprised to find yet another treasure in the gift that keeps on giving.  Fornieles’ story is an interesting one.  I would certainly encourage you to read his SABR biography by Thomas Ayers: https://sabr.org/bioproj/person/5889829b

 

The ’87 cards at 69¢ a pop

1987 Topps box

The summer’s treasure trove of baseball cards continues:  Among the shoeboxes I was gifted, there was a baseball card pack box full of over 750 loose cards.  When I saw the box, I had a bit of fantasy that inside I would find wax packs.  There’s something special about opening a pack of cards, especially an old pack.  Would I find 17-card packs with sticks of gum?  Alas, the box was full of loose cards.  Oh well.  A boy could dream.

Pile by pile, I picked up each stack and quickly flipped through the familiar names making note of the card design as well.  The 1987 Topps set (792 cards) was touted as a “blast from the past” giving collectors memories of the 1962 Topps set with its use of a border with its simulated wood-grain finish.  The card features a large player photo with the team logo at the upper left corner and the players name in bold font inside a colored box next to the Topps logo at the bottom of the card.  The player’s position, however, is not indicated, which is the first time since 1972 that Topps did not include this detail.

1987 Topps inside.jpg

As I flipped through the cards, I thought about the 1962 counterpart and about what I didn’t like about this card design.  The wood border is fine, yeah, another flashback that Topps has done before.  What bothered me was the missing player position, and the team logo.  I like the uniformity of other card sets depicting the team name in the same font.  To me, the logo sort of throws the uniformity of the card off.  I believe this set is the first time since 1965 that a logo has been added to the card, though in that set, the logo was incorporated with the team name in the same font imposed on a pennant.

I knew that noted “rookies” of interest in this set included Ruben Sierra (#261), Mike Greenwell (#259), Wally Joyner (#80), Barry Bonds (#320) and Mark McGwire (#366), who had first appeared on a card in a 1984 U.S. Olympics Topps subset issued in 1985.  Among this box, I found a Greenwell, couple of Joyners and a McGwire.  These cards, like the rest of box, are in tip-top shape.  Sharp corners, no wear, vivid pictures, like the previous owner never played with them at all.  It’s amazing to me that of all the thousands of cards that were gifted to me in this summer collection, they are almost all in pristine condition, save for the dozen vintage cards I wrote about earlier.

I realized too, in thinking about the 1987 year, that I didn’t spend time at all collecting baseball cards during most of the 1980s because I was in college spending my extra funds on girls and beer.  Some 20 years or so later, I was able to go back and start collecting those years I had missed.  This 1987 set isn’t my favorite, but I did enjoy seeing all the familiar names and certainly appreciate opening the box and making yet another great discovery.