I asked people to send me their “junk wax” faves at the end of this post on Fleer Classic Miniatures and I got a lot of solid suggestions. The 1985 Fun Foods set was one, and I took it to heart. I am now the proud owner of a complete 133 button set.
I was not unaware of the Fun Foods set; I’ve always had a soft spot for it. I’ve had the Seaver button, and only the Seaver button, for decades.
The beauty of this little item was not lost on me, but I never went for the whole set. Not a cost issue, the set should run $20 tops, more of a storage issue. Where would I put 133 buttons – in a box? In sheets? I really couldn’t figure it out, so I passed.
When I started pursuing the 1964 and 1971 Topps coins sets, I ended up with some coin sheets whose pockets were too small. Too small for the coins, but perfect for the buttons! (Never throw anything out!). Here’s how they display:
It’s a super attractive set – the colors are vibrant, the photos are sharp, the checklist is terrifically 1984/1985.
They’re thick enough that my binder won’t close now, but I’m not worried. It’s a binder full of metal discs, not cardboard. No bent corners here!
I won’t claim to doing much looking into this issue: they were sold as complete sets and in packs of three, though I never saw those packs in the wild. As to Fun Foods, I have no idea what they did, or made, or how much fun their product may or may not have been. Maybe all they made were the buttons, maybe the buttons were meant to be eaten. I have no idea (though don’t do that.)
Whatever business Fun Foods was in is of no matter to me. They made cool buttons, I now have them all, and that’s enough for me.
With SABR 49 about to unfold in beautiful San Diego, I offer
a look at Padres’ cards from the Pacific Coast League era, which ends with the formation
of the Major League Padres in 1969.
The original Hollywood Stars moved to San Diego in 1936. The
city fathers constructed a wooden ballpark, Lane Field, near the train station
on the water front. From there, the team
would move into the Mission Valley in 1958 to play at Westgate Park and,
finally, San Diego Stadium in 1968.
According to PCL historian, collector and dealer Mark MacRae,
the first set of Padres collectibles were team issued photos in 1947. However, this set does not show up in the Standard
Catalog of Vintage Baseball Cards. This
publicity photo of manager “Ripper” Collins from 1947 may be an example, but
I’m by no means certain.
Two years later, Bowman issues a PCL set in the same format
as their MLB cards. The small, square
cards were issued in packs with a total of 32 in the set. The five Padres players are Xavier Rescigno
(pictured), John Jensen, Pete Coscavart, Lee Handley and Tom Seats. The cards were issued as reprint set in 1987
by the Card Collectors Company. The
reprints are distinguished by wider, white borders.
Bowman wasn’t the only company to issue PCL cards in 1949. The Hage’s Dairy company begins a three- year run with a 107-card set-with at least 26 different Padres. This initial set and the subsequent issues are filled with variation cards. Some players have up to four different poses. They were distributed in boxes of popcorn at Lane Field. Cards were added or removed when the rosters changed. The 1951 cards come in four different tones: sepia, blue, green and black-and-white. This set includes Luke Easter, manager Bucky Harris and John Ritchey, who broke the PCL color barrier in 1948.
Incidentally, the Bowman cards used many of the same photographs as Hage’s. For example, Bowman simply cropped this photo of John Jensen.
Hage’s comes back in 1950 with a 122-card set that has at
least 28 Padres. This time, all the cards are black-and-white. Also, Hage’s ice
cream is advertised on the back. This
set has manager Jimmy Reese as well as two variations of Orestes “Minnie”
Minoso. Among other recognizable names
are: Al Smith (famous for having beer poured on his head by fan in ’59 World
Series), Harry “Suitcase” Simpson, and Tom Tresh’s dad, Mike.
In 1951, Hage’s produces a much reduced 54-card set, with
all but 12 of them being Padres. The other cards are comprised of seven
Cleveland Indians and five Hollywood Stars. They were printed in the following
tints: blue, green, burgundy, gold, gray and sepia. Harry Malmberg is an example of the many photo
variations. The two cards above are both
from 1951. Some familiar names in this
set are Ray Boone, Luke Easter and “Sad” Sam Jones.
Like an ice cream bar left in the warm California sun,
Hage’s Dairy cards melted away in 1952, leaving Globe Printing as the card
producer for the Padres. This 18-card,
black-and-white set features manager Lefty O’Doul, coach Jimmy Reese, Memo Luna
and Herb Gorman. I’m not sure how the
cards were distributed.
1952 is a big PCL card year-due to the introduction of the fabulous Mother’s Cookies set. The 64-card set was distributed in packages of cookies on the West Coast. Padres’ manager, Lefty O’Doul, has on a beautiful satin jacket in his photo. Some of the recognizable players include Memo Luna, “Whitey” Wietlemann and “Red” Embree.
Mother’s Cookies returns with a 63-card set in 1954. Of the seven Padres in the set, the most interesting is Tom Alston. He would integrate the St. Louis Cardinals in 1954 after being purchased for $100,000. Unfortunately, mental illness ended his promising career in 1957. Also, Lefty O’Doul is back, and former MLB player Earl Rapp has a card.
I was unable to locate any evidence of Padres cards from 1953-60, but in 1961 the fantastic Union Oil set showed up at West Coast 76 stations. The sepia tone cards measure 3”X 4” and featured 12 Padres. Among the players available are: Herb Score, Harry “Suitcase” Simpson, Mike Hershberger and Dick Lines.
The Major League Padres arrive in 1969, but cards from the PCL era would emerge in retrospective sets. In 1974, PCL historian and fan, Ed Broder, self-produced a 253-card set, modeled after the Seattle Rainiers popcorn cards. He used players from 1957-58. There are 31 Padres cards in the set, including future Seattle Pilot, Gary “Ding Dong” Bell, Bob Dipietro, and Jim “Mudcat” Grant.
Another retro set was produced by TCMA in 1975. The 18-card set has PCL players from the mid-1950s,
one of which is Padre Cal McLish. The cards are “tallboy” size-like early 1970s
In recent years, the late Carl Aldana self-produced several
Padres cards in the Mother’s Cookies format.
The players he chose are: Ted Williams, Luke Easter, Max West, Al Smith
and Jack Graham.
Please let me know if there are other years that PCL Padres
cards were produced or if you have a 1947 team issued photo.
SABR convention goers will assemble at glitzy Petco Park for
a Padres game against the Cardinals. Not too far away, a humbler structure once
stood, Lane Field. Though small and
termite infested, it was “big time” to fans in a simpler era with limited entertainment
At the game, I plan to buy a box of popcorn to see if a Hage’s Dairy Memo Luna card was magically inserted amongst the kernels.
Mickey Mantle was the quintessential “baby boomer” icon in
post-war America. His good looks,
athleticism and strength personified the American concept of
exceptionalism. “The Mick” was the
ultimate hero for the white American male, who controlled all the levers of
power. It is not a stretch to state that
Don Drysdale was the pitcher who complemented the slugger.
To commemorate the SABR Baseball Committee’s 400th blog post, members were tasked with coming up with a post that tied in the number 400. In 1969, Topps assigned Drysdale card number 400 in the set. Many of you know that Topps gave superstar players the “hundred” numbers. The card turned out to be Don’s last regular issue card. This post celebrates our blog’s milestone by examining the Big D’s cardboard legacy.
Most of you remember that 1968 was a record-breaking year for Don-while 1969 had a tragic ending. 1968 saw him set the record for consecutive scoreless innings with 58-2/3 (since broken by Orel Hershiser with 59 in 1988). Unfortunately, starting 35 or more games for nine straight seasons finally caught up to Drysdale. Ongoing shoulder issues culminated with a diagnosis of a torn rotator cuff. After 12 starts in 1969, Don was forced to retire.
Standing 6’3’ and weighing 190, Don was a prime physical specimen and the epitome of the sun-splashed, California athlete. Being handsome, well-spoken and playing in Los Angeles resulted in advertisement opportunities and TV appearances. People of a certain age remember the Big D as a guest on “The Donna Reed Show,” “Leave it to Beaver,” “Beverly Hillbillies” and the “Brady Bunch.” The alliteration of the double D’s in his name contributed his recognition in and out of baseball.
My favorite Drysdale card was issued in 1967. The posed, follow through shot at Shea
Stadium exudes confidence and command.
Don had mid-century America by the horns, and he knew it.
The early cards depict a young man still developing into a prime athlete. Drysdale’s first Topps card in 1957 shows him with the Brooklyn “B” in the “Bums” last season in Ebbets Field. The shift to LA in 1958 results in an airbrushed “LA” on the cap. The Hires Root Beer card from that year makes him look rather cherubic.
1959 and 1960 are great, mostly due to the backdrop of the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. The massive football stadium-turned ballpark is certainly distinctive.
Drysdale shows up on specialty cards as well. In 1959, Don joins teammates Johnny Podres and Clem Labine on a cool, multi-player card captioned: “Hitters Foes.” Podres is back in 1963, but this time Drysdale’s fellow superstar teammate, Sandy Koufax, joins him on the card titled: “Dodgers Big Three.” Additionally, Drysdale has 1960 and 1962 All-Star cards and is on numerous league leaders.
Fleer attempted to break the Topps monopoly in 1963. Topps successfully sued to stop future production, but Fleer managed to put out at least a portion of its set. Don plays in “both ends of a double dip,” showing up in both sets.
Topps chose Don to represent the Dodgers in the 1967 poster
insert and the 1968 large posters, which were sold individually, one per
pack. Both are excellent photos and the
designs are superb in their simplicity.
As one of baseball’s top stars, Don is featured in every Topps insert or test issue set. He shows up on Bazooka boxes, Post Cereal, Salada coins and many other oddball sets.
Receiving a “hundred” number in a Topps series in 1960s was to be recognized as a true icon. Don is a man certainly worthy of our 400th post. I’ll leave you with a photo of my Drysdale shrine in my memorabilia room.
To learn all there is to know about Don Drysdale, I highly recommend Joseph Wancho’s BioProject entry.
At a recent card show, I purchased three Mother’s Cookies
team sets from the ‘80s. As far as “give-away” cards go, Mother’s Cookies are
near the top of the quality list. The
sharp photos on glossy stock combined with a simple design, featuring rounded
corners, produces a very attractive card.
The company produced team sets for the West Coast and Texas clubs during the ’80s and ’90s. The 28-card team sets were primarily composed of players from the year of issue. Sets, packed in envelopes, were given away at the stadium as promotions. Fans received approximately 90% of a set. Each envelope contained several duplicates to trade with other fans to secure the missing two or three cards. Additionally, an individual card from the local team was inserted into retail bags of cookies.
Mother’s Cookies used a different criterion for two of the
sets I picked up at the show. Both the
’86 Astros and the ’87 Athletics are All-Time, All-Star sets. One card was produced for the All-Star
representatives over the years. In
Houston’s case, it starts in ’62 with Dick “Turk” Farrell of the expansion Colt
.45’s. Oakland kicks off with Bert Campaneris in 1968-the year they moved from
The Astros cards are unique and quite striking in
appearance. Each card is a colorfully
painted portrait with stylized depictions. However, the artist* does an
excellent job of making the players recognizable. This is a great choice, since “photo realism”
would have made the whole exercise superfluous.
(*Richard-with a last name beginning with W-is the artist
signature. I was unable to identify
Houston’s colorful uniform history adds to the visual appeal. Starting with the wonderful Colt .45’s uniform, you see a progression to the “starburst” Astros, the primary color switch to orange, and finally the famous “Tequila Sunrise.”
Although the A’s didn’t use painted portraits, their colorful uniform history is on full display. Plus, the set has most of the principal players from the ’71-’75 dynasty era. The vest style uniforms give way to the polyester pullover jerseys and beltless pants in bold Kelly Green, California Gold and Wedding Gown White combinations.
The A’s set is from just before the “Bash Brothers” era, but
Jose Canseco shows up twice. Also, there
are cards from the lean years of the late ‘70s and the resurrection during the
“Billy Ball” era.
At five dollars per set, I couldn’t go wrong even if the
cards were less than stellar. So, I am very pleased with this purchase. By the way, the third set I bought is the ’84
Padres. This set is very colorful as
well with the NL champion Padres sporting the “chili dog” accent colors on the
I am sufficiently inspired to collect more of these
relatively inexpensive gems. Of course,
I have the complete Mariners run.
For those of us whose minds tend to gravitate toward the obscure and trivial, baseball cards can serve as a stimulate for this brain disorder. For example, the magic mushroom that sent me falling down the rabbit hole recently was a 1961 Seattle Rainiers’ popcorn card of Ted Schreiber.
I’ve had the card for several years, but recently purchased an off grade 8×10 glossy of the same photo as appears on the card. Curious to know more about Mr. Schreiber, I sought out online information on the infielder. Of course, it didn’t take the “men from to chessboard to tell me where to go.”
Since I couldn’t “go ask Alice,” The SABR Bioproject was my destination. Bioproject is an invaluable resource. The forgotten and obscure players are given the same scholarly treatment as the all-time greats. Mr. Rory Costello’s biography of Schreiber is well written and provides some surprising information. After reading it, I felt like I was “given the call” to tell you about Mr. Schreiber, aided by a look at his few, but wonderful, cards. By the way, Topps never issued a card for him.
Though no “Red Queen” ever tried to “off” Schreiber’s head, he did make “off” from his Brooklyn home in the late 1950’s destined for Queens-where he donned the “red” of the St.John’s Redmen. Ted played basketball for legendary coach Joe Lapchick and baseball for long-time coach, Jack Kaiser. Since my son graduated from St. John’s, I’ve developed an interest in the school’s sports history. This connection heightened my interest in Schreiber’s story.
Mr. Costello’s biography provided a great piece of trivia. Ted hit two home runs at Ebbets Field in 1959. Turns out, St. John’s played three home games there against Manhattan College.
Schrieber’s exploits on the diamond for the Redmen drew the attention of scout Frank “Bots” Nakola. If your “mind is moving low” and this name doesn’t ring a bell, he is the Red Sox scout who signed Yaz, Rico Petrocelli and Chuck Schilling out of the New York area. After a workout at Fenway Park, Ted signed with Boston.
In 1961 and 1962, Ted played in Seattle-the Red Sox AAA affiliate in the Pacific Coast League. From 1954 to 1968, the Rainiers/Angels issued smallish, glossy cards in boxes of popcorn. For reasons unknown, there are two variations of Schreiber cards in both 1961 and 1962. The 1961 “action” card misspelled Ted’s name. If you want to know more about popcorn cards, here are links to my previous posts
During the off season, the Mets selected Schreiber in the Rule 5 draft. Since his route to Boston was blocked by second sacker, Chuck Schilling, this was a good break for Ted. However, Ron Hunt won the starting job at second base for the Mets. As a bench player Schreiber appeared in only 39 games, but he did take center stage in a piece of Mets history.
On September 26, 1963, Ted pinch hit for his old St. John’s teammate, Larry Bearnath. He promptly hit into a game ending double play, thus making the last out in the history of the Polo Grounds. Though Topps never produced a card for Schreiber, there is a team issued photo from 1963.
Returning to the minors in 1964, Schreiber would never make back to the “show.” His one year in the “bigs” secured a card in Larry Fritsch’s 1983 “One Year Wonders” set. Also, Ted shows up in the 1966 Elder Postcards, 1976 SSPC set commemorating the ’63 Mets and in the 1971 “Wiz” Mets set.
Since “logic and proportion has fallen sloppy dead,” and you would rather hear “the White Knight talking backwards” than continue with me chasing rabbits, I will stop. But remember what the Bobby “Doerr-mouse” said: “Feed your head” with Bioproject.
A few months ago I attended the Frederick Ivor-Campbell 19th Century Conference at the Baseball Hall of Fame. The Fred is my favorite of all of the SABR conferences because of the intimacy, the subject, the location and the camaraderie. One of the presentations that weekend was entitled “The Birth of Baseball Cards.” The panel was moderated by MLB historian John Thorn and featured the SABR Baseball Card blog’s very own Jeff Katz, Hall of Fame curator Tom Shieber and author Peter Devereuax. Devereaux’s book, Game Faces, is an inside look at many of the early baseball cards that constitute the Benjamin K. Edwards Collection at the Library of Congress and served as a jumping off point for the panel. Game Faces should be on the reading list of everyone in this group.
Over the course of the panel the question was brought up of just what it is that defines a “card.” It is a question that is often addressed in the hobby; has, in fact, been addressed in this blog by Mr. Katz. It is also a question with no definitive answers, although Shieber, who was one of the driving forces behind the Hall’s new permanent baseball card exhibit entitled “Shoebox Treasures,” listed a few personal criteria. To be clear, Tom does not espouse to be the final voice on this subject, but much of what he said rang true to me. To him, the item in question should be: intended as a collectible, part of a set, directly related to baseball, and there should be a “cardyness” about it. That last one is admittedly vague, though for most of the folks reading this, the idea is likely akin to the old adage coined by Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart about pornography. We know it when we see it.
This panel was the highlight of the weekend for me, not just
because it was dedicated to one of my favorite subjects, but more so because I
have wrestled recently with this very question. As I mentioned in my last post,
in my quest to complete a collection of the rookie cards of every Cuban who has
appeared in a major league game, I have had to stretch certain
standardly-accepted definitions, beginning with the idea of a what constitutes a
“rookie card.” In the interest of finding at least one card for every player, I
have had to not only step outside of some of the accepted definitions within
the hobby, but I have been confronted numerous times with the issue of whether
or not an item I am looking at even counts as a “card.”
Such is the case with the 1943 set issued by the Havana-based, cracker, candy and chocolate manufacturer, La Ambrosia. As with major league baseball, the arrival of World War II created a vacuum of talent in the Cuban professional league. The league had already been struggling financially since the political upheaval of the overthrow of President Gerardo Machado, in the early 1930s. When the war began, it stemmed the flow of top-tier American talent, the quality of play suffered, and the league found itself at a low point. The silver lining of this nadir was the maturation of the Cuban amateur leagues.
With no minor league system in place, Cuban clubs would find
their promising young talent on the sugarmill teams that dotted the countryside.
Similar to the American company teams that would produce exciting local
baseball that filled the void before the advent of radio and television broadcasts,
the sugarmill teams were a loose collection of business-based semi-pro clubs.
One of those clubs was sponsored by La Ambrosia, and would feature the likes of
such luminaries as future Cuban batting champ Claro Duany and Orestes “Minnie”
The candy giant capitalized on their sponsorship of the club by publishing a set of 240 images that were released as “stamps.” Collectors were encouraged to get all of the stamps and then stick them inside an album, similar to the more ubiquitous Cuban release issued by Caramelo Deportivo during the 1945/46 and 1946/47 seasons. Printed on thin paper that most closely resembles magazine stock, the La Ambrosia stamps featured the largest single published collection of Cuban amateurs that I have found.
Unlike the Deportivos, in which the images are black and white and often grainy, the La Ambrosias are in color. They have the distinctive look of the tones being both vibrant and muted, as though the photos had been tinted with watercolors. The images look especially bright when mounted on the yellowed pages of their original album. It is those albums which resulted in the Deportivos and the La Ambrosias sharing another unfortunate trait. There are few remaining of either issue that do not have serious flaws, including backs that were damaged by adhesives.
For many, including the auction houses that sell these sets, the descriptions of these issues have evolved from “stamps” to “cards.” They certainly fit with Shieber’s first three criteria. But what about “cardyness?” They are not published on what we think of as a card stock. But does that matter? What is that quintessential piece that makes a card a card? Does an item need ALL of Shieber’s (self-proclaimed arbitrary) criteria? Are three sufficient? What about two? Or one?
The “cards” I have included in the collection for the Aragóns, Ángel and his son Jack, are a perfect example of this latter question. Their short major league careers, as well as the fact that they played during war years (Ángel appeared in 32 games with the Yankees during World War I and Jack’s lone major league appearance was in 1941), led to neither of them having what would be thought of, traditionally, as a card. I have not even had any luck by expanding my search to include cards that portray them in foreign leagues, although Jack’s extensive minor league career gives me hope that I may discover him in an obscure set someday. At the moment, though, they just don’t seem to exist.
However, while trolling through ebay, I came across a seller
who was offering images of both Ángel and Jack. He had come into possession of
a number of old periodicals, including a 1914 Spalding Guide and a 1949
publication called, “Historia del Base Ball Profesional de Cuba,” written by
Raul Diez Muro. The seller, scissors in hand, cut up both periodicals into a series
of head shots for the players that appeared in the two collections. The Spalding
Guide offered a number of publicity photos of minor league players, including Ángel.
Jack appeared in the book by Muro.
I have decided to include these hand cut bits of newsprint in lieu of “cards” because there aren’t any other options for these players and they do have the advantage of originally being printed concurrent with the player’s career. They pass virtually none of Shieber’s criteria. While the publications themselves could be considered collectible, they certainly became less desirable after the scissors were taken to them. The subjects are definitely baseball related, but they are not part of an intended set, nor do they feel very “cardy” to me. I have blurred the line considerably in the interest of completing my checklist.
I am now at the point where I need to decide if, since I have expanded my definitions for the Aragóns, do I do the same with the remaining Cubans who were never issued a card? Are pictures cut from newspapers enough to check that box, especially if I hold true to the criteria of the images being published during their careers? I know it’s my set, and I can do with it as I damn well please, but I’m not a fan of cheating. I suppose the best answer would be for me to wait to make a similar discovery of a player who is cardless, and decide when I see the actual item. Because, like Stewart’s porn, I believe I’ll know it when I see it.
Author’s note: I thought some of you might be interested in seeing the collection as it develops. I have created a flickr album that you can access here. The cards appear in the album not by the year in which they were issued, but rather in the order in which the player made their major league debut. Thus, even though the card for Esteban Bellán wasn’t produced until 2014, he is the first one in the set.
When I first traveled to Cuba in 2015, I had hoped to bring home some cards of the stars I would be seeing while I was on my baseball tour. Still naive about the differences between Cuban baseball and the major leagues, I believed that there would be such a thing. I knew the stadium amenities weren’t going to be luxurious (they weren’t) and the food at the park was bound to be lousy (it often was, though the pulled pork sliders I bought outside of Estadio 26 de Julio in Aretmisa remain vividly delicious in my memory). Still, surely an enterprising soul, or the government, had managed to publish a few sets of baseball cards. I was quickly corrected by none other than fellow traveler and Cuban baseball expert Peter Bjarkman. He informed me there were no modern cards in Cuba. There was one set published in 1994 which included pre-MLB cards for the Hernández brothers, Liván and Orlando. The one before that was sold in the 1950s.
I had never given much thought of what it would be like to be a youthful fan
who could not regularly experience baseball cards. I loved the cards long
before I truly loved the game. In the days before the internet and daily
airings on team-owned networks, they were my most direct connection. I thrilled
with each new pack and the treasures I found inside.
That same passion, this time on the faces of a gaggle of Cuban children, was on display whenever a member of our group pulled out a pack of Topps at one of the five Serie Nacional contests I attended. They would swarm, a collective that would consume any gleaming picture of a hero-in-action they could get their hands on. Bonus points if it was Yasiel Puig or Aroldis Chapman. At one point I pulled out a business card to give to a local sportswriter and a child’s eager hands immediately reached out to me. Just the image of a baseball on my card was enough to ignite their imaginations.
All of this got me thinking about the Cuban stars of the past, and whether they had baseball cards. I had learned that generations of Serie Nacional heroes have never had one. But, what about the hundreds of Cubans who played in the major leagues? Surely many of them must have cards. I first considered starting a collection of all of the cards featuring Cuban-born players. I quickly realized that a complete collection of Cubans was going to necessitate far too much energy and money pursuing just José Canseco. There are roughly 3000 distinct cards of the tainted slugger. I decided that maybe the best way to approach this new whim would be to just get the rookie cards. The set would become relatively finite and definitely more achievable.
Many of them have rookie cards, but certainly not all. Some never had a card issued at all, at least none that my current research has revealed. Others have cards, but not ones that modern collectors consider “rookies.” Cards from a player’s minor league days do not qualify. Neither do cards from foreign leagues, such as the pre-revolution Cuban Winter League.
Such is the case of the Acosta brothers, José and Merito. The two appeared
on Clark Griffith’s Cuban-laden Washington Senators of the 1910s and 20s.
However, neither made enough of a mark to appear on a card during World War I
and the lean years of the hobby that followed. Cards were produced in smaller
sets, thus players like Merito, who appeared in 180 games in the outfield over
five seasons, and José, who pitched in 55 games over three years, often fell
through the cracks.
However, while playing for the 1923/24 Marianao squad of the Cuban League, they both appeared in a set that was issued in their homeland by Billiken. Like their American counterpart, these cards could be found in packs of cigarettes. In addition to Cubans, they also featured American Negro League legends like Oscar Charleston and Andy Cooper. Per the definitions set by modern collectors, these do not qualify as “rookie cards.” I decided that because so many of the pre-revolution members of the fraternity fell into this category, I was expanding my criteria to include first-known cards, as well.
As of this writing, there have been 208 Cuban-born men who have played or managed in the majors. So far, and research is ongoing, there appear to be 194 cards in the set I have designed. I had four at the outset, just by culling from my own collection: a 1990 issue of Tony Fossas, a 1989 Orestes Destrade, a 1987 Rafael Palmeiro and, from a pack bought in the interest of the project, a 2015 Jorge Soler. All of them happened to be Topps. There are numerous other publishers in this set, including Bowman, Upper Deck and Fleer. Going back before World War II, there are Zeenuts, T207s, an E135, and multiple cards from the candy manufacturer Caramelo Deportivo.
The day after I finished the first draft of the checklist for the set, I
paid a visit to a comic book store in New Paltz, New York. My ex-wife and I
meet there sometimes when we exchange our daughter. B is a fan of comics and I
like to encourage my kid to become a nerd, just like her old man. While not a
large shop, the collection is extensive and a fan of the genre is certain to
What it does not have, however, is very many baseball cards for sale. The
two collectibles will often appear together at small retail shops like this,
though such stores usually lean more heavily in one direction. No one would
ever think of this place as a local card shop. But, it does sell packs of the
current sets and that day had about 50 individual cards up for grabs. Of those
singles, the inventory was split between medium value cards of current players,
a sprinkling of stars from 1970s, 80s and 90s, and a few lesser known players
from the 60s.
One of those latter cards was from the Topps 1965 set, number 201. Minnesota Twins rookie stars César Tovar and Sandy Valdespino share the honors. Tovar, a native of Venezuela, had a fine twelve-year career with the Twins, Phillies, Rangers, A’s and Yankees. He finished in the top twenty-five in MVP voting every year from 1967-1971 and led the league in doubles and triples in 1970. The Trading Card Database has identified 56 unique cards manufactured for Tovar.
Hilario “Sandy” Valdespino lasted for seven seasons with the Twins, Braves, Astros, Pilots, Brewers and Royals. He did not share the same success as his card-mate, though he did get eleven at bats in the 1965 World Series, contributing a double and a run. Valdespino was born in San Jose de las Lajas in Mayabeque and became the 106th Cuban to appear in the majors when he made his debut on April 12, 1965. Number 201 is his official rookie card, one of only nineteen different identified cards of the outfielder ever produced.
The odds of finding that card, in that place, just days
after I decided to pursue this quest, cannot be calculated. It was a divine
intervention, a gift sent by the baseball gods in the form of a fifty-year-old
piece of cardboard.
Today I have 115 of the cards from the set. The latest pickup, a W514 of Dolf Luque, is a real beauty. The corners are a little rounded and there are some minor markings on the surface, but it is crease free and remarkably sturdy for something that was printed a century ago. Luque, the first Cuban superstar, is an underappreciated name from yesteryear and a personal favorite. Finally acquiring his card inspired me to tell this story.
As always, the final cards of this set are the most
challenging and, of course, the most expensive. It is also a set that is always
expanding. Despite the recent short-sighted pronouncements of the current
presidential administration, Cubans will continue to find a way to travel those
ninety miles to American shores to play the game. Last year, six more made
their major league debut. Three of them have rookie cards, so far, and the
recent call up by the Yankees of Nestor Cortes, Jr., who had a
less-than-impressive debut with Baltimore last March, increases the chances of
him getting one at some point this season. When he does, I’ll be there.