I was introduced to holograms by Desi Arnaz, Jr in 1983. Arnaz played Walter Nebicher, a nerdy police officer/computer whiz who craved more responsibility within the police department. In his spare time, Nebicher developed a powerful crime-fighting, helicopter-piloting, Tron-like-hologram hero he dubbed “Automan.” Unfortunately, Automan was canceled after only 12 episodes and I pretty much forgot about holograms until those marvels of dimensionality began to be incorporated into baseball card sets in the late 1980s.
On the other hand, lenticular cards had been a hobby staple since the 1970s. These plasticky “3-D” oddball issues were first introduced as a Topps test issue in 1968. Collectors most likely became aware of the 3-D technology, however when they found baseball cards in their Kellogg’s cereal boxes or discs on the bottom of 7-11 Slurpee cups. The Sportflics issue in 1986 introduced the lenticular card on a much grander scale, incorporating a headshot and a pair of action poses for individual players and cards featuring up to 12 different player photos. Regardless, the 3-D card has largely remained a novelty.
Whether a baseball card featured a holographic or lenticular element, the creator of that card was endeavoring to capture the action and movement of the game into a static format—what else could a collector ask for in a two-dimensional card? Many of these cards are downright magical.
Famous for its Grand Slam breakfast, Denny’s began producing a branded baseball card set with Upper Deck in 1991. That set featured a full bleed holographic image on the front and narrative statistical information on the reverse, along with—cleverly—the player’s career grand slam tally. One card was issued for each of the 26 Major League teams at the time. Denny’s followed a similar format in 1992 and 1993, the latter set growing to 28 cards with the addition of players from the Rockies and Marlins. These cards were given to patrons who ordered a Grand Slam breakfast.
In 1994, Denny’s and Upper Deck changed the format a bit and for the first time, the set included pitchers. The player’s grand slam tally was discontinued, perhaps because none of Jim Abbott, Kevin Appier and Cal Eldred had never hit a home run, let alone a grand slam. This year, the issue also included a special Reggie Jackson card that was reportedly distributed one to a location and was to be given away as a prize. This remains the rarest of any Denny’s issue.
The 1995 Denny’s set was the last for Upper Deck, the restaurant chain having partnered with Pinnacle for 1996. While the 1991-95 Upper Deck holographic issues simply added some shimmer and dimension to the card fronts, the 1996 set really brought home the bacon. Touted as “Full Motion Holograms,” these cards—when pivoted at just the right angle—actually depicted fluid action of a batter’s swing or pitcher’s windup. This issue also added a randomly inserted ten-card Grand Slam subset, with a parallel ten-card Grand Slam Artist’s Proof subset. The holographic image on the Grand Slam subset card was just a generic Grand Slam breakfast advertisement, ironically making the chase cards much less desirable than those in the base set.
Then, in 1997, the 24-hour diner chain turned the collecting world on its collective head. Not unlike the resplendent union of eggs and toast, a concept was hatched in which a single regulation-sized baseball card would include both lenticular and holographic elements. This intrepid design produced the most technologically ambitious baseball card ever—with roughly 71%* of the card’s real estate covered by special effects. The front of the card was oriented horizontally and featured crisp effects in front of or behind each subject. The back of the card contained biographical and career highlight information, along with a large holographic image of the player’s face. These cards were wrapped individually and were available for 59 cents to anyone who purchased an entrée and non-alcoholic beverage.
The set was comprised of 29 cards, one for each of the 28 Major League teams of the day, along with a special Jackie Robinson card in honor of 1997 having been the 50th anniversary of his having broken baseball’s color barrier. The Robinson card was based on Ernie Sisto’s depicting Robinson being tagged out at plate by the Pirates’ Clyde McCullough at Ebbets Field on May 2, 1951.
Oddly, Denny’s also produced a separately distributed card of Larry Doby, numbered “1 of 1.”** The Doby card was given out at the All-Star Game Fan Fest and National Sports Collectors Convention, both of which were held in Cleveland that year. [Additionally, there is anecdotal evidence that the Doby card was also available at Cleveland-area Denny’s locations, but this has not necessarily been substantiated.] As you may know, Doby broke the color barrier in the AL, playing his initial game for the Indians on July 5, 1947.
The 1997 Denny’s cards are fun to handle not only because of the movement and special effects on both sides, but also because a good number include other identifiable individuals. For example, John Jaha appears to be holding Wade Boggs on at first. The Sammy Sosa card has Jose Hernandez positioned oddly as Sosa appears to be mid home run trot. It appears that Jeff Bagwell is depicted on Tim Salmon’s card, Hal Morris appears on Derek Jeter’s card, Kirt Manwaring is seen on Andruw Jones’s card, and Jim Thome makes a baserunning appearance on Bagwell’s card, the only dual Hall of Famer entry in the lot.
Interestingly, Cubs catcher Scott Servais appears on two cards, those of Ray Lankford and Gary Sheffield. The Sheffield card is particularly interesting because the visible Wrigley Field bunting probably dates that photograph as having been taken during the Cubs opening series against the Marlins in 1997, not long before the set would have been finalized for manufacture.
The card fronts are also interesting to study for the differing ways in which motion was added and whether the perspective of that motion was in the foreground, background, or both. The majority of the cards depict the main subject as a solid, two-dimensional figure. Several cards, however, animate a portion of the player’s body, such as Mo Vaughn’s glove, Mike Piazza’s arm, and Frank Thomas’s left hand gripping a baseball to autograph.
Unfortunately, all this technology came at a price. While information regarding the cost to produce each of these cards has eluded the author, these cards could not have been inexpensive to produce and Denny’s ambition may have been the reason for the demise of their baseball card promotions. Alas, the 1997 set was the last that Denny’s would distribute.
Even now, Denny’s sets and singles are readily available and relatively inexpensive. The ambitious 1997 set is the pinnacle of baseball card fun, even more so than Automan ever was.
*I say that “roughly 71%” because the hologram features a slight rounded contour of a baseball, not a straight line. I am not going to do any math that requires me to calculate the area of an arc section.
**Denny’s having chosen to celebrate Jackie Robinson and Larry Doby may have been an effort to help rehabilitate their corporation reputation on the heels of paying $54.4 million to settle a class-action racial discrimination lawsuit.
Jeff Leeds, “Denny’s Restaurants Settle Bias Suits for $54 Million: Civil rights: Blacks complained of discrimination at the chain. Case marks new push for Justice Department,” Los Angeles Times, May 25, 1994.
Dwight Chapin, Greg Smith, “Highland Mint strikes gold in memorabilia market,” The Marion Star (Marion, Ohio), August 31, 1997.
I’d been sitting on the idea of this article for a while, and I finally decided to “check it off” when I saw an exchange between fellow SABR Baseball Cards blogger Matt Prigge and prewar savant Anson Whaley (with a guest appearance by Jeff Smith) on the first numbered baseball cards.
Interesting question. The N48 cards are generally cited as being from 1886. These featured women as baseball players and since those are some of the earliest baseball card sets in general, I’m thinking those could be it. No guarantees. Just a guess. https://t.co/5uO0MlW67B
Today the idea of numbered cards goes hand in hand with that of a (contemporaneously published) checklist. However, that was not always the case. While numerous examples abound, one famous numbered set with no checklist was 1933 Goudey. Likewise, we will encounter sets that had checklists but no numbered cards. This article will not be exhaustive, so don’t use it as a checklist. Rather, it will just highlight some of the variety attached to what in my collecting heyday was considered the most boring card in the pack.
Had I written this article a year ago, I might have assumed erroneously that on-card checklists were a hobby dinosaur. After all, why waste a card in the set when it’s easy enough to post a checklist online? However, the lone pack of 2019 Topps update I bought last fall included a surprise on the back of my Albert Pujols highlights card.
Though I have to imagine the past three decades of baseball cards have more of a story to tell, I’m going to quickly jump all the way back to what otherwise was the last time I remember pulling a checklist from a pack.
The very last packs of cards I bought before entering my long “real life took over” hiatus were in 1992. I don’t recall buying any mainstream sets that year, but I liked the Conlons and their close cousins, the Megacards Babe Ruth set, of which I somehow still have the box and three unopened packs.
The Ruth set had no checklist, but the Conlon issue had several, much in the style of the Topps cards of my youth, right down to the checkboxes.
While there’s something to be said for the familiar, I was an even bigger fan of the checklists I pulled from packs of 1990 Leaf.
Checklists adorned with superstar players was new to my own pack opening experience. However, as with most “innovations” in the Hobby, it wasn’t truly new, as we’ll soon see.
This was my absolute pack-buying heyday, and it was a great time to be a checklist collector, assuming there is such a thing. Yes, we had the standard checklist cards each of those years…
…but we also got team checklists, either on the backs of manager cards…
…or on the back of team cards.
As a quick aside, I’ll note that EVERY collector I knew in 1978 sorted his cards by team and used the team card to mark progress, making the set checklists (e.g., 1-121) completely superfluous.
Though I’m skipping most years, I’ll make a quick stop at 1974 to highlight two features in particular. In addition to the standard checklists AND team photo cards without checklists, the 1974 Topps set used unnumbered team signature cards as team checklists. (Aside: Though unnumbered cards had a mile-long history in the Hobby and are hardly extinct today, I rarely ran across them as a kid apart from the 1981 Donruss checklists or the 1981 Fleer “Triple Threat” error card.)
A final note on these team checklists: they did not include late additions from the Traded set (e.g., Santo on White Sox), so a separate “Trades Checklist” was provided also.
If I had to declare a G.O.A.T. checklist it would come from 1967-69 Topps, all possible inspirations for the 1990 Leaf card I showed earlier. (In fairness, 1984 Fleer might have played a role.)
At first glance I mistakenly thought these checklists brought more than just a bonus superstar to the mix. Take a look at entry 582 on the back of card below.
Could it be? Were we looking at the pinnacle of 1960s artificial intelligence technology: checklists with the self-awareness to check themselves off? Sadly, no. We were just looking at an abbreviation for “Checklist – 7th Series.” After all, this “smart checklist” was card 504 in the set and the ostensibly checked off card was a completely different card.
While our friends at Topps were having a ho-hum year, checklist-wise, as if there’s any other kind of year to have, checklist-wise, I do want to provide recognition to the efforts at Fleer. Haters of the Keith Shore #Project 2020 designs will probably not be fans, but I’m a sucker for this cartoony, colorful approach to checklists.
Even the title, “Player Roster,” is a nice twist, don’t you think?
The first appearance of numbered checklist-only cards from Topps came in 1961. Each checklist featured a baseball action scene on both the front and back of the card, and collectors can have fun trying to identify the players. (Side note: I believe these are the first ever game-action photos ever used by Topps.)
While the image on the back persisted across the set, the images on the front differed with each card. For example, here is Mr. Cub on the front of the second checklist. (Banks also appears prominently on the fifth checklist!)
Meanwhile in Philadelphia, Fleer introduced its first ever checklist cards.
The series one checklist featured Home Run Baker, Ty Cobb, and Zach Wheat well past their playing days, while series two did the same for George Sisler and Pie Traynor.
Incidentally, a similar approach was used 15 years later by Mike Aronstein in the 1976 SSPC set.
While Fleer had baseball sets in 1959 and 1960 as well, neither used checklist cards. However, this was not because the concept had not yet dawned on them. On the contrary, here’s a card from one of their more notable non-sport issues way back in 1959!
Note that the card pictured is #63. Cards 16 and 64 in the set are also known to have “checklist back” variations. However, the much more common versions of these same cards simply feature humorous descriptions or jokes.
I referred to the 1961 Topps cards as checklist-only because there were in fact numbered checklist cards issued in the 1960 set. The 1960 cards were the perfect (or anti-perfect) hybrid of set checklists and team cards, perhaps offering a glimpse of the “why not both!” direction Topps would ultimately adopt.
Shown below is the Braves team card, but the back is not a Braves checklist. Rather, it’s the checklist for the set’s entire fifth series!
But wait, how does that even work? The set only had seven series but there were 16 teams, right? Yes, somewhat inelegantly Topps repeated checklists on the back of multiple team cards. For example, the A’s and Pirates each had sixth series backs.
Ditto 1959 Topps…
We have to go all the way back to 1957 to see checklist-only cards. Aside from being unnumbered and landscape oriented, these cards check off all the boxes of the staid checklist cards I grew up with.
The 1956 set did the same but with an unusual turn, and not just the 90-degree reorientation. While the 1957 card shown includes the first and second series, the 1956 cards included non-adjacent series. The card below is for the first and third series, while a second card has series two and four.
The 1956 checklists also featured the first (that I could find) appearance of checkboxes. As such, it wouldn’t be wrong to regard (or disregard!) all predecessors as mere lists, unworthy of the checklist title.
The crumbiest card in the set?
It may have looked like Topps was blazing new trails with their checklist cards in 1956 and 1957, but take a close look at the second card in this uncut strip from the Johnston’s Cookies set, series one.
You may need to be the judge as to whether this qualifies as an actual card in the set vs a non-card that just happens to be the same size as the other cards.
On one hand, why not? On the other, how many collectors would consider the “How to Order Trading Cards” end panel a card?
When is a checklist not a checklist?
In 1950, Chicago-based publisher B.E. Callahan released a box set featuring all 60 Hall of Famers. The set was updated annually and included 80 Hall of Famers by 1956, the last year it was issued. At the very end of the set was what appeared to be a checklist for the set, but was it?
As it turns out, the card back wasn’t so much a checklist as it was a listing of all Hall of Famers. Were it intended as a checklist, it presumably would have also listed this Hall of Fame Exterior card and perhaps even itself!
Simple logic might also suggest that a checklist would have been particularly superfluous for cards already sold as an intact set; then again, stranger things have happened.
No checklist but the next best thing?
Prior to 1956 Topps a common way to assist set collectors, though a far cry from an actual checklist, was by indicating the total number cards in the set right on the cards, as with this 1949 Bowman card. Note the top line on the card’s reverse indicates “No. 24 of a Series of 240.”
Though this was the only Bowman set to cue size, Gum, Inc., took the same approach with its Play Ball set a decade earlier. The advertised number of cards in the set proved incorrect, however, as the set was limited to 161 cards rather than 250.
Goudey too overestimated the size of its own set the year before. The first series of 24 cards seemed to suggest 288 cards total…
…while the second series indicated 312!
Add them up and you have a set of 48 cards evidently advertised as having more than six times that number. In fact, some collectors have speculated, based among other things on the similarity of card backs, that the 1938 issue was a continuation of the 1933 (!) issue. Add the new 48 to the 240 from 1933 and you get 288. Perhaps, though the number 312 remains mysterious either way.
Tobacco card collectors are no stranger to the advertised set size being way off. Consider the 1911 T205 Gold Borders set for starters. “Base Ball Series 400 Designs” implies a set nearly twice the size of the 208 cards known to collectors and perhaps hints at original plans to include Joe Jackson, Honus Wagner, and many other stars excluded from the set.
As for its even more famous cousin, the 1909-11 T206 set. How many cards are there? 150 subjects? 350 subjects? 350-460?
The return of set checklists
While I’ve just highlighted several non-examples of checklists, there are several, probably dozens, of sets pre-1956 Topps that include checklists. The most common variety involved printing the entire set’s checklist on the back of every card in the set, as with the 1933 George C. Miller card of Mel Ott shown here.
As evidenced not only by Ott’s name but also brief biographical information unique to Master Melvin, the Miller set provided a unique card back per player in the set. As we travel further back in time to examine earlier checklisting, you’ll see that a far more common approach involved applying the same card back to multiple players in the set, often by team, by series, or across the set’s entirety.
The return of team checklists
It’s been a while since we’ve seen team checklists, but some great early examples come our way from the 240-card 1922 American Caramel set.
As the small print indicates, the set included 15 players apiece from each of the 16 teams, leading to an even 240 cards. As the Ruth back suggests, all Yankees in the set had identical backs, as was the case for all team subsets within the set. Rival caramel maker Oxford Confectionary produced a much smaller set (E253) the year before and was able to fit the set’s entire 20-card roster on the back of each card.
The golden age of checklists
Though neither the T205 nor T206 sets included checklist cards, many other sets of the era did. A fun one, checklist or no checklist, is the 1912 Boston Garters set. Note the back side (of the card, not the player!) lists the 16 cards in the set. (These are VERY expensive cards by the way. For example, the card shown is easily the priciest Mathewson among his various cards without pants.)
Another such set was the 1911 Turkey Red set where, as with the 1922 American Caramel cards, every card was a checklist card (subject to back variations). Low numbered cards had a checklist for cards 1-75 or 1-76, and high numbered cards had a checklist for cards 51-126.
The 1910 Tip Top Bread set provided collectors a much kneaded set checklist and team checklist for their hard-earned dough. Of course, this was by default since all the subjects in the set were all on the same team. While the checklist suggests numbered cards, individual cards have do not include a card number as part of the design.
The 1908-1910 American Caramel E91 cards similarly provided a checklist for each year’s set and the three teams that comprised it. For example the 1910 set (E91-C) listed Pittsburg, Washington, and Boston players.
And just to show these sets weren’t flukes, there are the 1909 Philadelphia Caramel (E95), 1909 E102, 1909-1910 C.A. Briggs (E97), 1910 Standard Caramel (E93), 1910 E98, 1911 George Close Candy (E94), and 1913 Voskamp’s Coffee Pittsburgh Pirates, and various minor league issues of the era.
Size isn’t everything
Another early approach to checklists is illustrated by the 1909-1913 Sporting News supplements.
The picture backs were blank, but sales ads provided collectors with the full list of players available.
By the way, the highlighting of “SENT IN A TUBE” provides a hint that collectors even more than a century ago cared at least a little bit about condition.
Obak took this approach a step further in 1913 by including a complete checklist in every cigarette box.
Though not technically a card, one could make some argument that this Obak insert represents the very first standalone checklist packaged with cards.
I don’t know enough about this 1889 (!) checklist of Old Judge cabinet photo premiums to say whether it was inserted with the cigarettes and cards as was the Obak or lived somewhere else entirely as did the Sporting News ad.
Either way, it won’t be our oldest example of a checklist.
Where it all began…almost
There aren’t many baseball card sets older than the 1888 Goodwin Champions and 1887 Allen & Ginter World Champions issues. Ditto 1887 W.S. Kimball Champions (not pictured). Take a look at the card backs, and it becomes evident that checklists are almost as old as baseball cards themselves.
And while most of the card backs I’ve seen from these issues are rather dull, here is one specimen that makes me smile.
It’s not the easiest thing to see, but I do believe the collector crossed Kelly off the checklist…
…before running out of money, running out of ink, or just moving on like any good player collector.
As my examples demonstrate, baseball card checklists have taken on many forms, and the question of which baseball card checklist was first is one that depends on your definition of a checklist and perhaps even your definition of a baseball card.
Though it’s risky to infer motives from men long since dead, it seems reasonable that the creation and publication of baseball card checklists indicates a recognition that the cards themselves were not simply throwaway novelties but items to be collected and saved. What’s more, this was evidently the case as far back as 1887!
Note also that these checklists weren’t simply offered as courtesies. They reflected the at least an implicit assumption that set checklists were more valuable (to the seller!) than other forms of advertising that would otherwise occupy the same real estate whether the product was bread, tobacco, or candy. A standard Hobby 101 education teaches us that cards were long used to help sell the products they were packaged with. What we see here is that the allure wasn’t simply a baseball player or his likeness on cardboard but also the set of such likenesses that kept the pennies and nickels coming.
I started this article with a question. Are checklist cards the most boring cards in the set? By and large, yes, I think they are. However, that’s only true most of the time.
For with every checklist, at least those put to purpose, there is that one moment of glory, of sweetness, and of triumph when the checklist—formerly mocked and yawned at—informs collectors young and old that their springs and summers were not spent in vain but rather in pursuit of the heroic, the noble, and the—holy smokes, it’s about damn time!—DONE!
I just finished a book called “Ballpark: Baseball in the American City” by Paul Goldberger, which is just wonderful. The pictures alone make me stop for a minute to take in all the magic, but there’s more! There’s backstory on the ballparks – why the locations were chosen, who the architects were and why the parks were built at that particular time, just to name a few aspects of the book. I have been taken on a journey of the evolution of ballparks, and I love it.
This isn’t a book review. I want to talk about ballparks. Maybe I just really want to be AT a ballpark right now, but I can’t. Whatever the reason, let’s discuss 1988 Fleer logo stickers. The fronts feature either:
a team logo inside of a baseball sitting on a trophy stand OR
two small logos with team names printed in all caps. The team names printed in all caps are dreadful. It’s not even in a team wordmark.
When I originally opened packs of 1988 Fleer, I wanted the cards! I’d hang on to the stickers because they come in handy for various projects, but I’d just stash them away in a pile in my closet or somewhere I could forget about them. But lately, going through a box of old cards I found a stash of Fleer stickers and I found myself locked in on the wonderful ballparks featured on the backs of those logo stickers. All of a sudden I was shuffling through wondering if I had a complete 26-ballpark set (no Marlins, Rockies, Diamondbacks or Rays just yet). I did!
Each card has a black & white photo of a ballpark with red stripe across the top & bottom, and a blue stripe right above the bottom red stripe, which noted the capacity, first game & dimensions.
Of the 26 ballparks:
6 are still standing and in use as MLB ballparks – Fenway Park. Wrigley Field, Dodger Stadium, Angel Stadium (“Anaheim Stadium”), Oakland-Alameda County Stadium & Kauffman Stadium (“Royals Stadium”)
3 others are still standing and NOT in use as MLB ballparks – Astrodome, Olympic Stadium & SDCCU Stadium (“Jack Murphy Stadium”)
I’ve seen a game at 13 of the 26 – the six current parks, Olympic Stadium, Comiskey Park, Metrodome, Yankee Stadium, Busch Stadium, Shea Stadium & Milwaukee County Stadium (which I don’t remember at all, but my parents insist they took me there).
One thing that would definitely stand out to fans today are the names.
Five are named after the team: Yankee Stadium, Dodger Stadium, Tiger Stadium, Royals Stadium & The Astrodome.
Three are named after an owner: Busch Stadium, Wrigley Field & Comiskey Park – kind of. Today, Anheuser-Busch pays for naming rights in St. Louis. As a matter of fact, Gussie Busch wanted to name Sportsman’s Park (which was the original Busch Stadium; this card is the second incarnation) Budweiser Stadium, but rules at the time prohibited him from naming a park after an alcoholic beverage, so he named it after himself and then created a beer named Busch. Take that, Major League Baseball!
Three are named after other people – William A. Shea Municipal Stadium was named after the lawyer who helped bring National League baseball back to New York. Jack Murphy Stadium was named after a popular sportswriter for the San Diego Union. The Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome was named after a former Vice President.
Two – the two in Canada – are named after a function – Exhibition Stadium in Toronto was on the Canadian National Exhibition Grounds and was a multi-purpose venue used for many different things. Olympic Stadium was built for the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal.
Three named after the city – Anaheim Stadium, Arlington Stadium & Cleveland Stadium
Four named after the county – Oakland-Alameda County Stadium, Milwaukee County Stadium, Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium & The Kingdome (King County, Washington).
Four names inspired by the area – Fenway Park (in an area called The Fens), Riverfront Stadium (self-explanatory), Candlestick Park (built at a location called Candlestick Point) & Three Rivers Stadium (by the confluence of the Allegheny, Monongahela & Ohio rivers).
The final two ballparks had honorary names – Veterans Stadium & Memorial Stadium.
It’s quite a difference from today, where ballparks names are determined by whoever offers the most money in naming rights.
Each card has the “first game” played at the park – except for one. The Kingdome card says “christened March 1976” and I’ll assume that’s because while the Mariners didn’t play there until April 6, 1977, the actual first event there was a grand opening ceremony which took place on March 27, 1976. And besides, the first sporting event there was a NASL (North American Soccer League) exhibition between Pele and the New York Cosmos and the Seattle Sounders on April 9, 1976. The Seattle Seahawks played there later that season.
HOWEVER, why not just print the date of the first Mariners game at the Kingdome? That’s what they did in the case of Wrigley Field. On the Wrigley Field card, the date of the first game is listed as 4/20/16. That’s the first Cubs game there, however the first game was 4/23/14 for the Chicago Federals. Also, the San Diego Chargers & San Diego State Aztecs both played at Jack Murphy Stadium prior to 4/5/1968. Anyway, the Mariners “christening” seems odd.
Two additional cards don’t have a specific date, but the month of the first game instead. Anaheim Stadium (first game: 4/66) & Oakland-Alameda County Stadium (first game: 4/68). In the case of the Angels, they moved over from Dodger Stadium for 1966 and Fleer could’ve easily just pulled up baseball-reference and found that the first game was 4/19/1966 (I kid). As for the A’s, they had just moved to Oakland from Kansas City for 1968 and their first regular season contest at the Coliseum was 4/17/1968.
The oldest date printed on these cards is 4/25/01 for Tiger Stadium. And that’s incorrect. While the Tigers played at the same location continuously from their first game in 1901 through 1999, and while Bennett Park opened in 1896 on the same site, Tiger Stadium opened in 1912 and the first game should be listed as 4/20/12 – the same date as Fenway Park’s first contest. The most recently opened park of these cards is the Metrodome, which is already demolished; its first game was 4/6/82.
The capacities range from 33,583 (Fenway Park) to 74,208 (The Mistake by the Lake in Cleveland). The top of Cleveland Stadium looks like a toilet seat, no offense to fans of the Tribe who cherish memories of that building.
Four of the fields are not visible – because they’re domes – the Astrodome, Metrodome, Kingdome & Olympic Stadium (that card is a bit of a disappointment because the tower is cut off in the picture).
On two of the cards, you can see another venue, or at least a part of it – Royals Stadium (Arrowhead Stadium) & Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum (Oracle Arena).
A few more random observations:
After looking at some of these cards, I feel like rolling out cookie dough and cutting cookies for some reason. Or eating donuts.
The Shea Stadium picture isn’t close enough to make out the 300 auto part shops lined up next to each other.
I miss Comiskey Park. I still can’t watch footage or see pictures of the demolition because it makes me cry. I’m serious.
There appears to be a game going on in 10 of the 26 cards, but it’s tough to tell in some of them.
Exhibition Stadium looks like an awful place to watch a game.
The Wrigley Field shot looks like it was taken a really long time ago. The little bits of rooftops visible seem empty.
Arlington Stadium looks like it’s in the center of a crop circle.
I’m extremely glad I hung onto these. They didn’t mean much to me when I was growing up, but today I feel that the ballparks are every bit as worthy of having their own cards as the players who competed in them.
One of my favorite oddballs from my childhood was Action Packed. The 3D embossed effect was pretty cool but even as a kid I was impressed at the way they were made. As I’ve been looking for card-related patents I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for Action Packed.
This has been somewhat frustrating because Action Packed actually mentions patent number 315364 on the cards themselves but every time I searched that number I couldn’t find anything. A couple weeks ago though I got a tip from Paul Lesko that the Action Packed patent was in fact a design patent and should be listed as D315364.
Compared to the more-common utility/mechanical patents which describe how a product works, design patents are strictly about how the product looks. In the case of Action Packed, its design patent covers the different profile levels.
This is cool to see but also ultimately disappointing since design patents are literally just about how the product looks. I’m not a patent attorney but even though Action Packed put this patent number on all its cards—not just the ones that have this border design—I can’t help but think that this patent only applies to the specific profile of the original design.
Original design is on the left. It’s clearly the same design as the one in the design patent. I’m not sure if there was ever a proper baseball release in that design since all the baseball cards I’ve see are the design on the right.
Flipping the cards overs shows how they were made. There’s a seam that goes the length of the card (above the card number on Cunningham and above the stats on Jenkins) which shows how they’re printed on only one side of the paper and subsequently glued together. This is pretty clever since it hides the back of the embossing is on the card fronts.
It’s worth noting the prototype baseball cards which date to when the design patent was filed in 1988 use the design in the patent and are assembled differently. Instead of folding each side over and putting a seam on the back, this is just folded in half.
Anyway I’m still hoping to find more details about the production of these but I did notice that the patent is now assigned to Pinnacle Brands. So I decided to click on that name and see what else they owned.
There wasn’t as much interesting stuff in there as I was hoping for but this patent jumped out a me. Fellow early-90s collectors like myself will recognize it immediately, everyone else will be pretty confused.
The patent title itself gives it away. This is an anti-counterfeiting device. Where Upper Deck used holograms on its cards, Pinnacle decided to leverage its Sportflics brand and use lenticular printing.
That little slug under the player portrait on the back of every Pinnacle card? It’s basically what a Sportflics or Kelloggs card looks like before the plastic lens layer is added on top of the printing. It definitely confused me as a kid so it’s cool to see how it’s actually supposed to work.
The Topps “Bunt 20” smartphone app for digital/electronic baseball cards is here, replacing “Bunt 19.”
I am a latecomer to Bunt. Even though it has been around since 2012, I didn’t even know of the app’s existence until December 2019, when I read a posting about it by Nick Vossbrink here on the SABR Baseball Cards Blog (and a write-up by Jenny Miller that Nick linked to).
Once I joined in December 2019, though, I became a regular user. I initially was going on daily, as one received gold coins—the free currency for acquiring cards—every day, plus bonus amounts for activity every seven consecutive days. Once my gold-coin total started exceeding 100,000 and my card collection approached 2,000, however, I cut back to going on every two or three days.
Like Jenny, I have not spent any of my own money on Bunt, relying on gold coins. Diamonds, which can be exchanged for apparently more ritzy products, carry a fee. I have simple tastes, enjoying the sharp photograph quality of Bunt cards and the process of collecting by team. Other than trying a couple of trades (which failed), I have not gotten into any of the more elaborate aspects of Bunt, such as its fantasy-type games.
Anyway, I started wondering recently when (and how) the transition from Bunt 19 to Bunt 20 would occur. Last Friday, March 13, it happened. When I tapped the Bunt 19 app on my phone, it said the Bunt 20 reader was ready for download.
Bunt 20 features some changes compared to Bunt 19. Users can claim gold coins not only immediately upon entering the app, but also after waiting periods (e.g., 10 minutes or 1 hour). One can also claim a “Mystery Box” upon entering, which basically just seems to be a small number of cards. I’m sure there are additional differences between Bunt 20 and 19, which I’ll notice after additional use.
One thing that took me a while to get used to when I first started using Bunt is the probabilistic nature of some of the special deals in the “store.” You’ll see a feature advertised, such as cards with photos from Players’ Weekend or historical greats, but when you buy a packet, there may be one or none of the thematic cards.
My least favorite aspect of Bunt is the large amount of duplicate cards you get. They clutter up your team-by-team collections (if you choose to organize your digital cards that way) and, unless you want to use them for trading, they serve no useful purpose. I am not aware of any way to delete duplicate cards.
Ultimately, for its cost—which is nothing, unless one wants to purchase diamonds and fancier cards—Bunt is definitely a fun way to fill some down time.
You may recall from an earlier post that I’m now collecting the 1961 Fleer “Baseball Greats” set. At the time I wrote the article I had maybe 30-40 of the 154 cards in the set. Now, just a month later, I am now at 140/154, just 14 cards short of the set. Awesome, right?
Ah, but did I mention I have over 100 doubles?! Here’s the thing. Rather than just buy the set (boring, and too big a hit all at once to the pocketbook) or buy only the singles I need, I’ve to this point focused almost entirely on “lots,” as in listings of 10-40 “random” cards at at time. (And just to avoid confusion with other meanings of the word, I’ll capitalize “Lot” from here on out.)
Early on that was a great way to go. For this particular set, I might find a Lot of 30 cards in VG-EX and pick it up at right around a dollar a card, i.e., even less than what collectors pay today for many of today’s brand new 2019 and 2020 offerings.
When my Lots arrived, good times ensued-
It was fun to thumb through the cards and see who I got. (Yes, I tried hard NOT to look at the listing details specifically so I could be surprised later.)
It was REALLY FUN to find cards I needed for my set, and early on this was most of the Lot.
It was REALLY FUN to occasionally come across a “high end” player (e.g., Lou Gehrig) I didn’t expect to see thrown into a Lot. (In today’s jargon, this would be known as a “hit,” and I would be expected to post a pic to social media with the caption “DiD I dO gOoD?”)
All told, buying Lots brought back all the fun of buying packs, which, sometimes we forget, is about the funnest thing in the world you can do with baseball cards. (No kidding, I have a group of guys I get together with each month (COVID-19 Update: on hold!), and we have a blast opening packs of junk wax, even packs we don’t care about at all. Most of the time we don’t even take the cards home.)
Of course, all pack openers know what happens when you get closer and closer to completing your set. Doubles galore! Now back in the day, that meant spending 30 cents and ending up with 15 doubles. At the high-stakes poker table that is 1961 Fleer, it may mean spending $20 for 15 doubles and only a single common I need for my set. (By the way, the notion of a common Baseball Great is one of my favorite oxymorons, even if it fits this particular set to a tee.)
I’ll add here that the situation with ordinary packs or Lots is amplified with a set like 1961 Fleer that has a decidedly more scarce high number series. Unless you’re buying a specifically advertised “high number Lot” you almost certainly end up with somewhere between 95-100% low numbers. Still, I was determined not to give in and complete my set “the boring way,” which I’ll define here as any method that’s fast, cheap, or efficient. I was in this one for the fun of it, and any extra I was paying would simply be the “cost of fun.”
Fortunately, two things happened to me that helped me a lot (lowercase, ordinary meaning) with my set.
A collector got in touch with me and made a big trade.
In each case, there were no doubles involved, and in the case of the Ruth I got one of the cards that would never come my way buying low-cost Lots. I was now breaking my own rules right and left, but I was okay with it since trading and making deals with “real people” (vs. anonymous eBay sellers) is almost as fun as opening packs. Finally, with a Want List that’s now exclusively megastars and high numbers, buying more and more Lots seems like an exercise in total futility.
Most collectors I meet feel an internal tug of war between wanting to build their collections on a budget while also wanting to enjoy the chase. Giving in to the former generally means buying the set all at once (BORING!), while giving in to the latter generally means Lots and singles (EXPENSIVE!). (And singles get particularly expensive when each $3 card adds $3 in shipping.)
Ultimately, how you collect comes down to what your budget is and what value you put on the fun. For every collector the answer will be as unique as their fingerprints, but in general I would encourage all collectors to at least consider fun in the equation.
Too often as collectors, we forget about the fun side of the Hobby, worrying instead about whether or not we got a good deal or found the lowest price. In reality though, not knowing who you’re gonna get, getting one of the cards you really wanted, creating your Want List, making up dumb games with your doubles, having a Want List when someone asks you if you have a Want List, trading, checking things off, completing a sheet of nine in your binder, having a set you’re working on…often (and if we’re honest with ourselves…ALWAYS!) these things are more satisfying than actually having the set.
As such, if you pay a little extra to take the fun route, it’s maybe not so dumb after all; it might even be really smart. At the very, very worst, we’ll say it’s a fun dumb, which maybe–just maybe–is the best an adult blowing hard-earned cash on little cardboard baseball men can ever hope for. God knows I’ll take it!
Back to those hundred or so doubles. It’s not normally my thing, but I did manage to sell a small stack of them. More germane to this post, however, is that I found a way to turn them into tons of fun.
A fellow Chicago chapter member is having a baby soon, and he’d told me once he might get into this set. (I didn’t break it to him that he’d soon have zero time for hobbies, sleep, or anything else.) Well, boy did I have a blast printing fake wrappers off the internet and creating 1961 Fleer “repacks” as a dad-to-be gift for him.
Of course, now he’s the guy with almost all low numbers, hardly any big stars, and a bunch of doubles, but guess what…
He’s also the King of Fun when it comes to opening packs. Click here to see who he got in his first pack, and I bet you’ll learn something new about every single player!
These are strange times indeed. As we all withdraw from social interaction, at least in the near term, and find ourselves at home more often (though I’m home a lot!), there is some solace for those who have stuff – books, movies, and, for all of us present, cards.
For all we talk about cards in this space – what to collect, what we need, what we regret, what we envy – the true nature of this collecting business is the chords it strikes within us. There’s a nostalgia, for sure, a somewhat false recapturing of a youth that from today’s vantage point seems unblemished by trouble (though it really wasn’t at the time). There’s also the joy of having, and looking, at these totems that, at the very core, are created to make us happy.
I was once told that “things don’t love you back,” and, while that’s true, it also isn’t. The things we love reflect a kind of love back to us. There’s an emotion that is tangibly true when we look at cards. It’s real and not to be dismissed.
There’ll be times in the coming weeks that’ll result in many of us feeling lonesome. I saw a Doctor on TV last night warning that there’s a cost to isolation and we should all make sure to stay in touch, somehow.
Take some comfort in your cards. That’s what they’re there for.
A couple years ago now, someone was running a Twitter sale and posted a batch of 1955 Bowmans. I hadn’t quite made the jump into pursuing Giants Bowman cards at the time but I looked at the batch anyway and one card jumped out at me that I had to have. So I responded to the tweet and the following conversation ensued.
“I’ll take the Bowman.”
“Which one? They’re all Bowmans.”
“The Bowman Bowman.”
The card that jumped out at me and the first 1955 Bowman I ever purchased was Roger Bowman’s Rookie Card. I knew nothing about him as a player* but the silliness of having a Bowman Bowman card was irresistible.
*I would discover that he was a former Giant but by the time his Rookie Card was printed his career was basically over.
And so a collection theme was born. I don’t have all of the cards in this post but they’re on my radar. Sometimes we collect our favorite teams. Sometimes we collect our favorite players. And sometimes we collect cards where the player name describes the card itself.
On the theme of the Bowman Bowman we’ll start with a pair of Johnson Johnstons. As a Giants fan the Johnston Cookies issues aren’t exactly relevant to my interests. But getting an Ernie or Ben Johnson card of those? That’s something I can feel completely fine about adding to my searchlist.
Sadly there aren’t a lot of guys whose names match the card manufacturers. Hank Gowdy, despite playing through the 1930s, never appears on a Goudey card. Score never made a Herb Score card.
Thankfully the Ted Williams company produced Ted Williams cards in its early 1990s sets and the Conlon Collection included a Jocko Conlan card as well. And to bring us back to where we started, Matthew Bowman gives us the modern version of the Bowman Bowman card.
But it’s not just card manufacturers where this checklist is relevant. Player names can match team names whether it’s Dave Philley as a Phillie or Johnny Podres on the Padres. Jose Cardenal almost got aced out since his time with the Cardinals corresponds to when Topps calls them the “Cards”* but his Kellogg’s card, with no team name on the front but Cardinals on the back, doesn’t do this.
*Cards cards are an honorary member of this collection.
Unfortunately guys like Daryl Boston and Reggie Cleveland never played for Boston or Cleveland respectively.
First names can also match in this department. Like we’ve got Angel the Angel who sadly never pitched when the club called itself The Los Angeles Angels. There are plenty of other players named Angel on Baseball Reference but none appeared for the Angels.
Sticking with first names and moving to more thematic cards. We’ve got a Chase chase card and a Rookie Rookie Card. I went with Chase the batdog whose card is a short print in 2013 Topps Heritage Minors but there are also a few Chase Field cards that are numbered to various small numbers. Sadly, images of those are hard to come by.
The Rookie Rookie though I enjoy a lot. I usually hate the RC badge but in this case it really makes the card.
There are also a couple more thematic near misses. Cookie Lavagetto left the Oakland Oaks the year before Mothers Cookies started making its PCL sets in the 1950s and Cookie Rojas, despite managing for the Angels in the 1980s, was on the only West Coast team that did not get Mothers Cookies cards.
And finally, much to my dismay, the 1968 Topps Game Matty Alou Error Card does not contain an error. Although I do keep that card around as one of my favorite Error cards.
Any more suggestions? Please leave them in the comments!
A couple cards that came up in the comments the week after this posted.
First a Wally Post Post card which Tom Bowen suggested in the comments. Thanks Tom! And second a green tint* Pumpsie Green that I knew of an completely spaced on when I wrote this.
I’ve never been much of a believer in signs or fate. Sometimes, though, happy coincidences can lead to a feeling of slight disbelief and a raised eyebrow.
Over the past month, there have been a couple of events here in Pittsburgh that I was fortunate enough to attend, They commemorated the centennial of the founding of the Negro National League (NNL). It’s altogether fitting that institutions in the region mark the anniversary, as this area was home to two famous franchises in black (or any color) baseball history; the Pittsburgh Crawfords and Homestead Grays.
A few weeks ago, the mayor and some other folks gave short speeches at the City-County Building at the opening of a temporary Negro League display located there. Then, on Thursday, February 13th (100 years to the day that the NNL was founded), a panel including former Pittsburgh Pirates star Al Oliver and Josh Gibson’s great grandson Sean, spoke at the Heinz History Center about the leagues in general. The discussion was pretty free-form, covering the impact and influence on baseball that the players and owners had, as well as a wide range of other topics. It was here where the card collecting angle comes in to play.
One member of the panel, noted Black Baseball historian Rob Ruck, made mention of 1988, when the Pirates organization officially apologized for their role in baseball segregation. While I’d be loathe to truly praise them for this action (first of all, segregation, secondly, it took 40 years!), the club was one of the earliest, if not the first, to own up to the injustice.
That night’s ballgame included a pennant raising in honor of the 40th anniversary of the Homestead Grays’ 1948 Negro World Series victory. Ruck mentioned that, also that season (may have been the same night), the Pirates held a card set giveaway. The cards were printed in sheet form and showcased a number of images of famous Negro League characters. Professor Ruck had played a role in the set creation back then, providing info for the backs in the age long before Wikipedia and Ancestry.com were a few clicks or taps away.
Professor Ruck’s mention of the card set reminded me that I was at the giveaway game with my family, because, as I immediately mentioned to my buddy sitting next to me, I fondly remembered having that set. They were somewhere in the mix with my junk wax collection, conciously purged around the time when my parents moved a dozen or so years ago.
So, two days after the panel event, I visited my parents’ (current) place. No sooner did I walk into the house than my mom mentions, “I was cleaning and found some old cards for you.” As some of you may have foreseen in the amount of time since I finished the first sentence of this paragraph, laid out on the guest room dresser were three sets of 1988, Pirates team issued Negro League cards, uncut and neatly folded.
Somehow, they weren’t cast out along with my collection. Likely because they were stored elsewhere. My memory is limited, but I’m willing to guess that these belonged to my parents and sister, landing outside of my eight year old reach. Mine were probably systematically separated and made into standard card form. I’m not 100% positive, but they probably disappeared with those thousands of other cardboard sports ephemera of my youth years ago.
Having these appear again is both neat, and a little spooky. It’s as if a passing mention of the set caused the cards to materialize out of thin air. I’m excited to be able to add these into my collection (haven’t checked with the others in my family, but confident they’re not interested). It’s an ‘oddball’ collection of true historical interest, and a great group of early card examples of many of the biggest names that never had the chance to play in the majors.
Also, if anyone is looking for a set…you now know who has two duplicates.
When novice collectors hear the phrase “Venezuelan baseball cards,” they may picture something like this.
More seasoned collectors are more likely to identify Venezuelans as those hard to find, harder to afford, condition-sensitive cards that keep their player collections from the upper echelons of the PSA registries.
Other collectors, like this author, simply ignore such gaps in their collection based on most Venezuelan cards being so similar to their U.S. counterparts that there is not enough “there” there to pay through the roof for something you (mostly) already have.
In this post we will look very quickly at the years from 1959-1968 when the Venezuelan cards were nearly identical to their North American brethren and then spend my traditional very long time on the single year when they most certainly weren’t.
My understanding is that Topps was selling cards in Latin America as far back as 1952. From 1952-1958, the cards were produced in the United States and then shipped to other countries to be sold. It was not until 1959 that Topps was not just selling but actually producing cards in Latin America.
The 1959 U.S. and Venezuelan cards appear nearly identical, though in hand you would quickly detect two differences: a flimsier card stock and a less glossy finish. The backs of some of the cards would also replace the standard copyright line along the right edge with “IMPRESO EN VENEZUELA POR BENCO C.A.,” roughly translated as “Printed in Venezuela by Benco, Inc.”
As for the checklist itself, the 198-card Venezuelan issue simply followed the first 198 cards on the 1959 Topps U.S. checklist.
There was even less differentiation in 1960. Again, the 198-card Venezuelan set mimicked the first 198 cards on the U.S. checklist, but this time there was not even a different copyright line. From a design perspective there was no difference between the North American (top) and South American (bottom) cards. From a production perspective, there is still a flimsier feel to the Venezuelan cards.
More significant changes came to Caracas in 1962. The first is easy enough to spot: multiple elements of the card back are now in Spanish!
The second is one perhaps best known to collectors of a certain Latin American infielder. While the Venezuelan and U.S. checklists mirror each other for the first 196 cards, the Venezuelan issue skips U.S. cards 197 (Daryl Spencer) and 198 (Johnny Keane) and instead jumps to cards 199 and 200.
However, the Venezuelan issue didn’t simply jump to U.S. cards 199 and 200, both of which we recognize today as among the key cards in the U.S. set.
Rather, Venezuelan card 199 went to Venezuela-born second baseman Elio Chacon of the Mets, who would not be seen until card 256 in the U.S. set. (Side note: Frank Robinson sighting!)
Finally, card 200 went to an even more prominent Venezuelan infielder, whose card was number 325 in the U.S. set.
As a final note, the 1962 Topps U.S. set is famous for its variations. For example, all five (!) of these cards are number 139 in the U.S. set.
From what I can tell, “Babe on dirt” is the only one of the five variations present in the Venezuelan set, though (as in the U.S.) “Reniff portrait” can be found at slot 159 on the Venezuelan checklist.
Okay, I lied. I’ll say one last thing about the set. It involves a feature that would become commonplace across many Venezuelan and Canadian (O-Pee-Chee) sets during the decade.
As it came straight over from the much larger U.S. set, Venezuelan “3rd Series” checklist must have disappointed or at least baffled young collectors such as the one who this card belonged to. More than half the cards it listed were not in the set!
“¿Dónde está Daryl Spencer (197)? ¿Dónde está M. Mantle (200)? ¿Cuántos paquetes tengo que comprar?”
We know about sets with “chase cards,” but (counting the back of the checklist too) here was a set with 68 of them!
Following the more significant changes of 1962, the 1964 release represented a return to the original formula, only with more cards. The set included 370 cards that mimicked the first 370 cards on the U.S. checklist. Moreover, the card backs reverted to English once again.
From a design standpoint, the most evident difference across continents was the black background color used on the Venezuelan backs as compared to a salmon color used on the U.S. card backs. (I am also speculating that the trivia answers came already revealed rather than requiring scratch-off, but I would love it if a reader can provide definitive information.)
The next release was an awful lot like the one before it but with even less variation. The 370-card Venezuelan offering again matched cards 1-370 on the U.S. checklist and featured English-only card backs.
Flimsier stock and some subtle color differences provide the main means of recognizing these cards, and I have encountered quite a few tales of collectors thinking they bought a stack of ordinary Topps cards only to discover some number were Venezuelans.
We’ll skip this one for now as it’s actually the main focus of the article!
We have now reached the final year that Topps produced a parallel set for the Venezuelan market. The formula followed that of 1964 and 1966, a 370-card set matching up card for card with the first 370 cards of the U.S. issue. From a design perspective, about the only distinguishing feature was the nearly invisible (at my age) minuscule white lettering at the bottom of the card backs that read, “Hecho en Venezuela – C.A. Litoven.”
Hobby consensus, if not established fact, on every one of the sets from 1959-1968 is that Topps produced the cards expressly for the Venezuelan market to take advantage of baseball’s popularity and hopefully make a few extra bucks. As has been shown, the cards were essentially flimsier versions of the U.S. issues with the only interesting differences coming in 1962.
All this stood in stark contrast with what the kids of Caracas lined their pockets (or more likely their albums) with in 1967. Rather than a low-grade imitation of some early portion of the U.S. checklist, one could argue that Venezuelan collectors ended up with a better set of cards than their North American neighbors. Let’s take a closer look at the set, and you can decide for yourself!
While numbered consecutively from 1-338, there are three very distinct groupings of cards. In fact, the Standard Catalog lists them as three different sets, though most collectors I’ve talked to think of them as a single set in three parts.
Cards 1-138 feature the players and managers of the six-team Venezuelan Winter League. This averages to 23 cards per team, which means this was less a “best of” and more an “almost everyone” sort of checklist.
Though they present at least some visual similarity to the 1967 Topps set, the Venezuelan Winter League cards are immediately identified as distinct by their distinctly non-U.S. team identifiers and their lack of facsimile signatures. (Or you can just flip the card over and see what number it is!)
Two particularly notable cards in this subset are those of nine-time National League all-star Dave Concepcion and Hall of Fame manager (then third baseman) Bobby Cox, whose Venezuelan cards beat their U.S. rookie cards by four and two years respectively.
Cards 139-188 featured retired (“retirado” in Spanish) greats of the game. Believe it or not, at 50 cards, this was actually one of the larger sets of retired greats produced to this point. While most of the players would have been at home in a U.S. issue, this subset also included a number of Latin American legends such as Alex Carrasquel, Alfonso Carrasquel (more on these two later), and Connie Marrero. There is also one of the more unusual Ted Kluszewski cards you’ll ever see!
ACTIVE MLB PLAYERS
Cards 189-338, a block of 150 cards comprising almost half the set, feature near replicas of 1967 Topps (U.S.) cards, at least as far as the fronts of the cards go, but these cards for once do not simply mirror the first 150 cards of the U.S. set. If that were the case, the top stars would have been limited to the following players:
In fact, the 150-card subset included every one of these players except Ford (more on him later) AND also included Carl Yastrzemski, Harmon Killebrew, Brooks Robinson, Willie Mays, Eddie Mathews, Bob Gibson, Pete Rose, Ernie Banks, Roberto Clemente, Hank Aaron, Juan Marichal, Willie McCovey, Lou Brock, Billy Williams, and many, many other top stars of the day.
To my eyes, the player selection represents a hand-picked “best of” that not only fully encompassed every major star from the Topps set but sprinkled in a disproportionate number of Latin American players to boot. (It’s important to note here that I’m placing us back in 1967 where Seaver, Carew, and the like were not yet established superstars.)
A quick aside to quantify the “best of” nature of this subset a bit more. In at least an approximate manner we can associate the best players in the original Topps set as the ones with “hero numbering,” card numbers that ended in 0 or 5. I’ve highlighted in green the “hero numbers” from the Topps set that have cards in the Venezuelan MLB subset. Cells in red (e.g., Whitey Ford, #5) reflect cards not selected for the subset.
The chart shows at least three interesting things about the MLB subset–
A very high proportion (89/121, or 74%) of hero numbers were selected vs the 20% that either random selection or any consecutive block of 150 cards would have yielded.
All multiples of 50, generally associated with the superstars in a set, were selected.
And finally, it shows that more than half the cards in the MLB subset (89/150, or 59%) were chosen from the Topps hero numbers.
“How very unlike Topps to build a set around the players kids actually want!” you say. And don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon enough. For now, just recognize that the full Venezuelan set now includes just about the entire Venezuelan Professional Baseball League, a huge selection of all-time greats, and all the best active players from MLB. How do you beat that!
1967 Card Backs
Diverging from the other years we examined, the 1967 card backs look nothing like Topps. This Mathews card is typical for the entire set, with the note that its blue background is (almost always) red for the Winter Leaguers and green for the Retirado subset.
What are these anyway?
For a variety of reasons including the similarity of the final 150 cards to the U.S. issue, the full 1967 release has frequently been referred to as “1967 Topps Venezuelan” or “1967 Venezuela Topps,” the name suggesting (as truly was the case in 1959, 1960, 1962, 1964, 1966, and 1968) that Topps was the company behind the set’s issue.
However, conventional Hobby wisdom seems to be that the 1967 Venezuelan set (or sets if you prefer) were produced completely apart from and without the blessing of Topps. The cards were bootlegs, “pirates of the Caribbean” if you will.
More than likely the cards were produced by Sport Grafico, essentially the Venezuelan equivalent of Sports Illustrated or Sport magazines in terms of content and equal to Life or Ebony in terms of size.
Before proceeding I’ll offer that the pirated nature of these cards is great news for all the collectors out there who avoid anything unlicensed. That said, I’d have a hard time imagining too many collectors who couldn’t find even one spot in their binders for beauties like these. (And feel free to click here for the most amazing 1967 Venezuelan collection I’m aware of, online or otherwise. Or click here for another amazing collection covering even more years.)
One of the best pages for learning more about the 1967 Venezuelan cards is here, though you will either need to remember your high school Spanish or use a translation feature on your browser. Among the fantastic information shared on that site is the actual album designed to hold all 338 cards. If you go to the site you can even see what the pages inside looked like.
Among other things, the album seems to all but confirm that the cards were produced by Sport Grafico. After all, their logo is prominent in the upper left corner. Though one might be tempted to regard the cartoon parrot as a nod to the pirated nature of the set, each cartoon character actually represents one of the six teams in the league:
Leones del Caracas (lions)
Tigres de Aragua (tigers)
Cardenales de Lara (cardinal)
Tiburones de la Guaira (shark)
Navegantes del Magallanes (sailors/mariner)
Pericos de Valencia (parrot parakeet)
Most online sources on the Venezuelan league refer to the name of the Valencia team as “Industriales” or the Industrialists! Fortunately, we have baseball cards to set the record straight.
You can even make out the parakeet logo on the Luis Rodriguez card!
When did the 1967 set come out?
On one hand this probably reads like the joke about who’s buried in Grant’s tomb. On the other hand, the Hobby has more than a few sets that came out later than their name would seem to suggest (e.g., “1948” Leaf).
Looking at the album cover again, we see the years 1967-1968 in the bottom right corner. This is no surprise given that the typical Venezuelan Winter League schedule ran from mid-October through early January. This alone makes me think a designation like 1967-1968 would make more sense for the cards than simply 1967. (Collectors of basketball and hockey are already quite used to this convention for dating their sets.)
One card that quickly tells us the Venezuelan cards could not have come out until (at best) very late in 1967 is the Brooks Robinson (pictured earlier) from the MLB portion of the set. In the U.S. set, this was card 600, part of the seventh and final series (cards 534-609), presumably released around September 1967. (This same series also produced 11 other players for the MLB portion of the Venezuelan set.)
I don’t claim to know all the steps and turnaround times involved to go from a stack of Topps cards to a full-fledged Venezuelan set (or even just the final third of one), but I would imagine at least the following things would all need to occur:
Select the players
Capture images from the Topps card fronts
Write bios and other info for the backs
Print, cut, and pack the cards
Get the cards to the stores
I’m sure I’m leaving out some important steps, but I’ll still say all of the above feels like at least two months of work. I’d be surprised if at least this final third of the Venezuelan set was out in time for Winter League Opening Day, and it definitely wouldn’t shock me to learn this final subset might not have hit the shelves until early 1968.
“Okay, but that’s the final portion of the set,” you say. Might the other portions have come out much earlier?
I’ll start with the Winter Leaguers since at least their numbering suggests they would have been the first out the door. We can gather some clues about timing from some of the players who made their Venezuelan Winter League debut during the 1967-68 campaign. One example is Paul Schaal, shown here with the Leones del Caracas team.
As 1967-68 was Schaal’s first year playing in Venezuela (also noted by the last line of his card bio), it stands to reason that the photo on the card could not have been taken before October 1967. Ditto for Jim Campanis (yes, the son of Al), who also made his Venezuelan debut in the 1967-68 campaign but is already shown in his Cardenales de Lara cap.
As these two players were still with their Major League teams (the Angels and Dodgers respectively) through the end of September, their cards would be a good month or so behind Brooks Robinson in how soon they could hit the shelves. I don’t want to underestimate the production team at Sport Grafico, but Christmas actually feels optimistic to me here.
Another interesting example here is Jose Tartabull, who remained stateside with the Red Sox all the way through the seventh game (October 12) of the 1967 World Series. However, as a returning player to the Leones del Caracas, it’s certainly possible his photo could have been a holdover from an earlier year.
We have now looked at cards in both the MLB and Winter League portions of the Venezuelan set that suggest either an extremely fast production process or at best a very late 1967 (e.g., December) release. What you probably wouldn’t expect is that even a card in the Retirado subset tells us something about the release window. His card also puts a bow on a minor mystery you might be hanging onto from a previous section.
Recall that Whitey Ford was the one big star from the 1967 Topps set not present in the MLB portion of the Venezuelan set. Given Ford’s retirement on May 30, 1967, it actually makes perfect sense that he would A) be excluded from the set of active MLB stars and B) find himself included in the set of retired greats. Perhaps the only thing that doesn’t make sense is why he’s posing with what I assume is Joe Pepitone’s jersey! (UPDATE: A reader provided an excellent explanation in the comments section.)
Ford’s retirement was early enough in 1967 that it wouldn’t have exerted any real pressure on releasing the Retirado cards by the opening of Winter League. Nonetheless, it takes the one subset that at least theoretically could have come out the soonest and probably pushes it back to August/September at the earliest.
Yes, one certainly could argue that the team at Sport Grafico simply had a feeling in advance that Ford would retire. However, the back of the card shows that he had in fact already retired.
Translated into English the last sentence of the card reads, “The lefthander’s career was shortened by muscular pains and although he underwent surgery he could not recover his effectiveness, so he voluntarily retired in 1967.”
Ultimately, the question of when these cards came out, if not established by the distinct memories of contemporary collectors, might be settled by a thorough enough review of Sport Grafico magazines from late 1967 and early 1968. Assuming the cards genuinely were the work of the magazine, then perhaps there would be an ad dedicated to their release.
That said, the bulk of the ads in the issues I have (early 1970s) are primarily targeted to adults who would not have been the target market for cards, at least not back then! Still, I’d enjoy the search if I ever found the right issues, and depending on what I found I might annoy my fellow collectors by referring to the set as 1968 Sport Grafico rather than any of the various names it goes by today.
Everything I’ve offered thus far is simply a curation (but with less accuracy or authority) than what you’d find on the Web if you spent a dozen or so hours trying to learn everything you could about these sets. Of course the reason I’m the highest paid blogger at SABR Baseball Cards (okay, fine, tied for highest with all the other guys making $0.00) is because I try to bring something new to the table whenever I can.
In this case I’m talking about my trademark needlessly detailed analysis of the set’s checklist. Since we’re talking about a VENEZUELAN issue, it stands to reason that I will be employing VEN diagrams. (And yes, I know I spelled it wrong. Work with me, please, work with me.)
This first VEN diagram looks at the 338 subjects in the set, organized by which group(s) they appear in. The main thing to notice is that five of the subjects have cards in multiple groups.
Since the numbers are small, I’ll show each of the cards that land in the overlapping sections of the VEN diagram.
First here are the three players represented in both the Winter League (1-138) and the MLB (189-338) portions of the checklist. Probably not coincidentally, the three players are all Venezuelan-born and were assigned to the first three cards in the MLB subset (i.e., 189-191).
Next up are an uncle and nephew who are both Winter Leaguers (coaches, anyways) and retired greats.
Collectors in Peoria, Illinois, may wonder how either Carrasquel managed to join the hallowed list of retired greats otherwise populated by the likes of Babe Ruth and Satchel Paige. In fact, Alejandro was the first Venezuelan to play MLB, and Alfonso was the first Venezuelan MLB all-star.
Now that we’ve made it through the VEN diagram of the full Venezuelan set, we can now compare each part of that set to the (real) 1967 Topps set. The first VEN diagram I’ll look at compares the Retirado portion of the Venezuelan issue with the full U.S. set.
If you were paying attention just a few minutes ago, you already know the player in the overlap is Whitey Ford, so I won’t rehash any old explanations. I’ll just note that another good candidate would have been Gil Hodges, who had a manager card in the 1967 Topps set and at least in my book would have fit every definition of a retired great.
The next VEN diagram compares the Winter League portion of the Venezuelan issue with the full U.S. set. From previous work, we already expect to see Davalillo, Tovar, and Aparicio within the overlap, but these three players represent just one-seventh of the total number.
Here is a complete list of all 21 overlappers. As you can see, nearly half were confined to multi-player rookie cards in the Topps set but now had solo cards they could show off to their families and friends.
And while the money wasn’t as good in Winter Ball, at least you got to wear your hat on your baseball card and have your uniform match your team!
The final Venezuelan subset to compare against the 1967 Topps (U.S.) set is the collection of 150 pirated Topps cards at the very end. A VEN diagram here would be dull since all 150 of the cards are drawn from the U.S. set. Therefore, what I’ll do instead is show how the U.S. versions of these 150 cards match up with the U.S. checklist.
As the barely readable plot shows, the 150 cards came from all areas of the Topps checklist, including the dozen already noted from the final series.
Postscript: North of the border
As a guy who gets paid by the word, even if my rate is $0.00 per word, I’ll do anything to make my articles longer. (Editor’s note: Even adding superfluous editor’s notes when he’s not even the editor!) In this case that means the one last comparison nobody would have presumed relevant (and probably still won’t even once I’ve presented it).
While Topps most likely had no hand at all in the 1967 Venezuelan set, aside from having their images ripped off, it’s not like Topps was ignoring the rest of the world. As had been the tradition for the previous two years, Topps once again issued an O-Pee-Chee set up in Canada.
Much in line with how the (true) Topps Venezuelan sets went, this 196-card set simply mimicked cards 1-196 from the U.S. set and would be indistinguishable (at least to me) from their American neighbors if not for the “Printed in Canada” line at the bottom of each card’s reverse.
What this means is that multiple players had cards from not one or two but THREE different countries in 1967, even if for most players the variation from card to card to card was fairly uninteresting. (And yes, this was true in 1966 and 1968 as well, bu my focus here is on 1967.)
To support your internationally diverse collecting interests I now bring you my final VEN diagram, one that will allow you to triple up on the cards of some of your favorite players. Among the 49 three-country sensations are these star players.
Aparicio collectors, it should be noted, can score the four-point play by adding his Winter League card to their binders also. (Ditto, Vic Davalillo.) And of course Ford collectors just miss the cut but can still rep all three countries by “settling for” his Retirado card as the Venezuelan piece of the trio.
Of course I know some of you will not be satisfied even with a three-country collection and are demanding four! Well, good news! I’ve also crosswalked the 1967 U.S., Venezuelan, and Canadian sets with the 1967 Kabaya-Leaf cards out of Japan, and I did manage to find a single hit…as long as you’re okay with the “Japanese Mickey Mantle!”