Baseball cards are touchstones; evoking childhood memories and pleasurable collecting experiences. A favorite player’s exploits or a key acquisition to complete a set can be conjured up with just a glance. Also certain cards can take you to a specific time and place. The 1949 Leaf Johnny Lindell is such a card.
The Lindell card transports me back to the early ‘70s. My best friend at school told me a story about exploring an abandoned house. The old man who lived there had recently died. Of course he made it sound as the gentleman had died in the house, resulting in the certainty of it being haunted. I subsequently learned that the man died in a nursing home.
The friend stated that the contents left in the dwelling were strewn about-probably by him-with most of the stuff dumped on the floor. There, in a cardboard box, he found, amongst other things, the Johnny Lindell card. Applying the “finders keepers” rule, my buddy laid claim to the card.
It goes without saying that my “collector’s gene” kicked in immediately. I negotiated a trade giving the friend some current cards in exchange. The card was nowhere near mint condition, but it was by far my oldest card. From that day forward, I’ve often pondered why it was in the house.
“Kids living in the house” is the most logical explanation for the card ending up on the shack’s floor. This ramshackle place undoubtedly saw many migrant families come-and-go. Central Washington has experienced waves of immigrants and emigrants trying to escape poverty by taking advantage of plentiful agriculture jobs. My parents and grandparents were part of the “Ozark Diaspora” in the ‘40s and ‘50s. The child collector theory is plausible, but the card was at least 22 years old at the time and apparently no other cards were present in the house.
It is possible that the old man had a special affinity for Johnny Lindell. After all he was a hero of the 1947 World Series in which he batted .500. Maybe the man remembered Johnny as a “war era” star since his deferment kept him playing through ’44 against weak competition.
How a ’49 Leaf Johnny Lindell ending up in crumbling house in Selah, Washington will always remain a mystery. However, it serves as a great example of the memories a single card can evoke. The accompanying photo is the actual card.
The ’49 Leaf cards measure 2 3/8 x 2 7/8 with 98 in the set. The background features bright colors with a colorized photo. This colorization process is primitive with a limited blue and red uniform pallet. The player’s face is painted with flesh tones.
The vast majority of my collection consists of either (a) complete sets, or (b) sets I am working on. I completed 1968 through 1971 in the 1980s, and in the past 30 years I have managed to push it all the way back to … 1964.
I do not work on one set a time — I work (slowly and randomly) on a bunch of things, which gives me more flexibility when I see an affordable lot. I might go months without buying anything, and then see some 1954 Topps commons that look great. I have no timetable. I would be content not finishing another set. We shall see.
Here is where I stand at the moment on my 1952-63 Topps sets.
I have 23 1952 cards, and I have 543 1963 cards.
Logically, 1963 seems like the next set that I should finish — look how close I am! But it’s just not gonna happen.
One of the cards I need is #537.
I have nothing against Pete Rose. Or, for that matter, Ken McMullen, Al Weis, and Pedro Gonzalez. Heck, I liked Pete Rose as a player, and I wish we had a player like him around today. He gambled a bit? Zzzzz.
But I consider this a rather ordinary card, perhaps even a bit ugly. I like the 1963 base design quite a bit, but I gotta be blunt here: the rookies and leaders subsets, both of which employ the “floating heads” technique, are pretty lame. (Do people disagree? Anyone?)
If I am patient enough, and compromise a bit on condition, I might be able to find this card for $500. We all have our budgets, but I just can’t see myself spending $500 for this. Its probably worth $5-10 to me as a card, and perhaps as much as $50 as a “I must complete this set!” card.
But if I have $500 laying around (spoiler: I really don’t), I could instead buy all of these 1955 cards (also “needed”) in the same condition.
Oh, and I’d have about $250 left over. Not really a difficult call for me.
I first heard of the concept of the “rookie card” almost 40 years ago, when a dealer explained to me why some of his cards seemed to be oddly priced. I thought, and still think, the whole thing is contrived. There was no increased demand for a Rose rookie card until dealers jacked the price up.
Dealers: “This card is scarce and desirable.”
Collectors: “OK, I must buy this card.”
Dealers: “Cool, its now actually a bit scarce.”
Its a not a card anyone would otherwise care about.
But even if there is additional demand for the first Pete Rose card, wouldn’t this be a better choice? For my money, this is actually Pete Rose’s first real card. Isn’t this, objectively, 10 times the card of the 1963 … thing? This is one heck of nice card, to be honest. And it is less than 20% of the price.
I like the multi-person rookie cards that came along later in the decade. They are a fun subset, like the World Series cards or the league leaders cards. But the “demand” for them is way overblown and makes set collecting unnecessarily expensive.
The Nolan Ryan rookie card is a cute little addition to the 1968 set. But the Bob Gibson (the best player in baseball at the time) is absolute magic.
There are many players in baseball history who shared the same name. Not quite as common are identically named men being active at the same time. Here is look at some of the “same name” players who, for at least one year, had cards in the same set.
Perhaps the most famous example are the two Bob Millers who played for the original ’62 Mets. Bob L. Miller (on the left) was the Mets #1 expansion draft pick from St. Louis. He would play for 10 different teams in a career that stretched into the ‘70s. Bob G. Miller was on the way out when he joined the first year Mets. His stint at the Polo Grounds would mark the end of his mediocre career. Using Retrosheet I was able to find at least three instances where they both pitched in the same game. Incidentally, Bob G. came over from the Reds in a May ‘62 deal for Don Zimmer. This resulted in Don Zimmer’s ’62 card having him pictured as a Met but on the Reds.
The oldest two-name examples I found were ’22 Exhibit Supply Co. cards for the two George Burns. Both Georges were excellent players in the early 20th Century. First baseman George H. Burns had a stellar 16 year career highlighted by winning the 1926 AL MVP for Cleveland. I found out after reading Joseph Wancho’s SABR BioProject piece that his post-baseball career was sheriff’s deputy for King Country, Washington where I live. George J. Burns played outfield for John McGraw’s Giants from ’11-’16 before being traded to the Reds after the ’22 season. His solid 15 year career included leading the NL in runs scored five times and stolen bases twice. R. J. Lesch’s BioProject entry is very informative. As far as I can determine, neither man had a wife named Gracie Allen.
The fact that both Hal Smiths played catcher undoubtedly led to some confusion. Hal W. Smith played for five teams in a career lasting 10 years. His home run in the 8th inning of the 1960 Worlds Series put the Pirates ahead, only to see the Yankees tie it in the top of the ninth. Hal could have been the hero instead of Mazeroski. Hal R. Smith was mainstay with the Cardinals from ’56-’61. He resurfaced for a few games with the Giants in ’65.
If that pair of Smiths wasn’t confusing enough, there were two pitchers named Bob Smith in the late ‘50s. Bob G. had a six year career with five teams. Bob W. Smith played for three clubs in the span of his two years in the “bigs.” Coincidently, both broke in with the Red Sox.
1971 saw cards for two Frank Bakers. Outfielder Frank Baker Jr. played for Cleveland in total of 125 games in ’69 and ’71. Infielder Frank W. Baker came up with the Yankees in ’70 and finished up with Baltimore in ’74 having played a total of 146 games.
In ‘72 the Padres selected Dave W. Roberts, from the University of Oregon, #1 overall in the amateur draft. He replaced Dave A. Roberts who they traded to Houston after the ’71 season. Dave W. never came close to living up to his lofty draft position. He never developed into a major league catcher and struggled to find a position with three teams. Dave A. Roberts was a decent pitcher for eight teams from ’69-’81. His best year was ‘73 when he won 17 games as an Astro.
Kevin D Brown Kevin J. Brown
These two 1991 Donruss cards proves the existence of another pitcher named Kevin Brown. Kevin D. Brown pitched for three teams from ’90-92 racking up three victories. Kevin J. Brown was one of the most prominent pitchers of the ‘90s totaling 211 career wins. He was a key part of the ’97 Florida Marlins championship and helped San Diego reach the World Series in ’98.
Greg A. Harris and Greg W. Harris are pictured here in ’90. Greg A. had a 15 year stint in the majors with eight teams winning 74 games. Greg W. pitched for eight years primarily with San Diego notching 45 victories.
Mike G. Brown was part of a trade deadline deal in 1986 between Seattle and Boston which sent Dave Henderson east. Red Sox fans fondly remember “Hendu’s” post-season heroics that year. Mike G. didn’t fare so well in Seattle closing out his career in ’87 with a total of 12 MLB wins. Outfielder Mike C. Brown had a similarly lackluster career with the Pirates and Angels form ’83-’86.
The two Pat Kelly’s had cards in 1980. Outfielder Pat Kelly had a 15 year career and was an original KC Royal in ‘69. His speed on the base paths made him a valuable asset to the White Sox and Orioles as well. He is the brother of ‘60s-‘70s Cleveland Browns running back Leroy Kelly. Dale Patrick “Pat” Kelly had a “cup of coffee” with the Blue Jays in 1980. He appeared in only three games before becoming a long tenured, minor league manager.
Personally, the two most confusing “same name” players are the Brian Hunters. Both players’ careers spanned roughly the same era and each had a stint the Mariners, my home team, in the ‘90s. Brian R. started with the Braves in ’91 and then bounced around for the better part of a decade playing outfield and first base for six different teams. Brian L. was a speedy outfielder for seven teams between ’94 and ’03.
The great Pirates catcher Tony Pena’s son Tony F. Pena Jr. was a shortstop for Boston and KC from ’06-’09. He was the Royals starter in ’07 but didn’t see sustained success. Breaking in the same years was Ramon Antonio Pena a pitcher. This Tony started with Arizona and “hung them up” after the’11 season with the White Sox.
Darrell David “Dave” Carpenter and Dave L. Carpenter experienced mediocre pitching careers. David L. achieved one win in 4 seasons from ’12-’15 while Darrell “Dave” won 11 times from ’11-‘15.
A basketball player at Princeton, 6’10’ Chris R. Young chose baseball and has put together a 12 year career with five teams. He won 12 games twice and has total of 79 from ’04-’16. Chris B. Young has played for five teams as well from ’06-’16. As a starter for Arizona in ‘10, he had 91 RBI. According to Baseball Reference, the two have never faced each other.
Bobby J. Jones was a serviceable pitcher from ’93-’02 amassing 97 wins. Bobby M. Jones played from ’97-’05 with middling results.
To say the career of Pedro (Aquino) Martinez’s career was over-shadowed is a gross understatement. He toiled for 4 teams from ’93-’97 accruing seven wins. Hall-of-Famer Pedro Martinez finished with 219 wins.
Alex Gonzalez Marlins Alex S. Gon
Playing primarily with the Marlins, shortstop Alex Gonzales was a solid performer for 16 seasons from ’98-’14. He was an All-Star in ’99 and finished with lifetime average of .290. His contemporary, Alex S. Gonzalez played from ’94-’06 with six teams.
I will conclude with players with the same pronunciation of their names but different spellings. Scott Servais and Scott Service played concurrently as did Lee May and Lee Maye.
If you know of other cards, please let us know in the comments or on Twitter.
I was a late talker, but somewhere between two- and three-years old, I got it. My Great Aunt used to tell me that I would howl about Beatles’ cards from my crib (Are two-year olds still in cribs?). The love of cards was strong with this one from early on.
Yes, this is a baseball card blog and, partially, this is a baseball card post, but it’s clear from what I gather of my own personal history that my love of cards began with Topps’ Fab Four, not ’64 baseball, cards.
Baseball cards are absolutely the vast majority of my cards. The sets are bigger, I’ve been buying them longer and continuously and, when I became the recipient of the card collections of friends, their shoeboxes were always dominated by baseball cards.
So what came first, the baseball or the card? That I’ve always bought lots of cards, of all sports and some non-sports, means that, for me, it’s always been the cards first, the baseball second. Cards are talismans, direct memories of the past, but they can also be indirectly evocative. When Munsters’ cards came out in 1996 and 1998, I bought them. When Twilight Zone cards came out from 1999-2002, I bought those sets too. Same for the 2001 Planet of the Apes cards. Though not the original issues ( the 1964 Leaf Munsters and the 1967 Topps Planet of the Apes cards are a tad pricey), the recent sets were good fun, brought back great TV and movie memories, not so much from the time like a 1972 Gary Gentry would, but looking backward. They were definitely as much fun as those year’s baseball cards. The ’96 Grandpa Munster cards were as good, if not better, than the ’96 Derek Jeters.
Is this off topic? Kinda, but I’d like to know what is at the core of the card collector. How many readers of this blog only collect baseball cards? How many collect other sports? How many collect non-sports? I want to know who’s harboring a secret Partridge Family set.
These days I am fully immersed in baseball cards, but that doesn’t mean I’m averse to picking up the occasional 1959 Fleer Three Stooges card, if the price is right.
When the Milwaukee Braves moved to the midwest from Boston for the 1953 season, the local populace was ecstatic. From 1947 through 1952, thanks to the Milwaukee Brewers serving as the Triple-A affiliate for the Braves, the locals had already had the opportunity to learn the names of many of the Braves prior to their promotion to Boston. The move was an immediate financial success for the club — attendance went from 281,278 in Boston in 1952 to 1,826,397 in Milwaukee in 1953. It didn’t hurt that the Braves went from doormat to a second place finish.
As that attendance jump shows, the Braves captured the hearts of Milwaukee immediately that initial season. As detailed in the September 16, 1953 issue of The Sporting News, the players themselves received outpourings of monetary support from the fans. Wisconsin native Andy Pafko, for example, was quoted saying:
We never knew a player could have it so good. You know, the only thing we have to buy in the way of food is meat. The rest we get free–milk, cheese, butter, eggs, frozen vegetables, cookies and even bread.
These people just can’t do enough for you. The other day the fellow at the parking lot where I leave my car overnight came over and said: ‘I understand you’re Andy Pafko of the Braves. Park here any time you want to and it won’t cost you anything. I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were sooner.
It should come as no surprise, then, that multiple local companies sought to capitalize on the good feelings engendered by the team. One of those companies was Spic and Span Dry Cleaners. As checklisted in the 2011 Standard Catalog of Baseball Cards, edited by the late Bob Lemke, Spic and Span issued multiple sets of photos and cards featuring the hometown Braves beginning in 1953 and ending in 1960. Included in this cavalcade of items were cards, photos, and postcards of various sizes and shapes. Here is a list of those issues:
1953 to about 1955: 3-1/4″ x 5-1/2″ cards, 29 total issued
1953 to 1957: 7″ x 10″ black and white photos, 14 total issued
1954: 5-1/2″ x 8-1/2″ set of 13 cards
1954 to 1956: 4″ x 6″ postcards, 18 issued
1955: 7-1/2″ x 7″ die cut standups (the rarest set) of 18 total players
1957: 4 ” x 5″ cards with a total of 20 cards issued
1960: 2-3/4″ x 3-1/8″with a total of 26 cards issued
In addition to these cards, Spic and Span also used Braves players on other ephemera around their business. Specifically, in 2013, a paper dry cleaning bag came up for auction at Mears Auctions, and it sold for $92.
As the Braves started their decline in the 1960s before they bolted for Atlanta, Spic and Span and other local retailers lost their taste for being involved with the team. Though Milwaukee spent just four seasons without a major league team of its own — really two years if you count the games in 1968 and 1969 that the Chicago White Sox (with help from eventual Brewers owner and Commissioner Bud Selig) played in Milwaukee — Spic and Span was pretty much done with the baseball endorsement business.
As a postscript, despite being a national dry cleaning chain into the 1970s, Spic and Span barely exists with that name today. The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency cracked down on the dry cleaning industry because of its pollution of groundwater. The solvents that dry cleaners used were loaded with trichloroethylene and tetrachloroethylene — known, potent carcinogens that dry cleaners often just dumped out the back door. Today, Spic and Span is nearly gone, but its legacy lives on both in baseball memorabilia and far less exemplary areas.
My first baseball cards were 1967 Topps, which I discovered when I was a wee lad of six. Within a very short time, as I have explained, I used my cards in order to follow real baseball teams. I organized my cards by teams and made lineups based on the day’s box scores. I never knew what to do with the checklists, league leaders, World Series cards, and the like. Should I use the NL Batting Leaders card as a place-holder until I got Matty Alou? I might have done that.
One group of cards I liked very much were those that pictured two or three players above a cute, often alliterative, title. Pitt Power — what a pair of words that was. Just as great was the back of the card, which was nothing but text. Understand, when I first saw this card I had little idea who these people were, and I wanted to learn. The fact that Topps put these happy-looking men on this card was proof that they were players to be reckoned with, and the news that Clendenon had once “paced the circuit” in home runs, albeit seven years earlier in the Sally League (whatever that was), sealed the deal. Phrases like “paced the circuit” became part of my language, along with “first sacker,” “blasted,” and “round-tripper,” all used here as well.
I knew right then what I wanted to do when I grew up: write the text on the front and backs of these cards. In 1967, Topps gave us 13 of them, with such wonderful titles as Cards’ Clubbers, Mets Maulers, Bengal Belters, and Hurlers Beware. And you can bet the backs had a fair bit of fence-busting, circuit-blasts and two-baggers. Warning: if we ever meet, I pretty much still talk like this today.
Credit for multiplayer cards, at least in the modern era, belongs to Bowman Gum, which produced two multi-player cards in their 1953 set, five famous players from the perennial World Champions. The cards had no text on the front, like all the Bowman cards that year, and card backs filled with prose. In their remaining two years of operation, Bowman never tried this again.
Four years later, Topps brought these cards back and this time they stuck. Topps made 107 multiplayer cards over a 13 year period (1957-1969). I am not going to go through every one of them, we don’t have all day here. Suffice to say that I like all 107 of them.
These cards depicted either two (72 times), three (29 times), or four (6 times) people, usually players but occasionally a manager or coach. Often they were just standing around being awesome, but sometimes they were talking, exchanging baseball nuggets.
Here are a few of my favorite examples.
Three times Topps referred to a pair of players as Fence Busters. Besides Aaron and Mathews above, they had used the phrase with Mantle and Snider in 1958, and brought it back for Mays and McCovey in 1967. Topps used similar terms through the years (clouters and sockers and belters), often for players who were quite a bit less worthy than Henry and Eddie. But Fence Busters seems to have been set aside for the cream of the crop.
Ted Williams signed a contract to manage the Senators in February 1969, quite late in the off-season for baseball card purposes, but Topps took photos of Williams in spring training and put him on his own late-series card plus this one of him teaching a mortal how to hit. Oddly, the Senators had already put the previous manager (Jim Lemon) on a card in an earlier series.
I recall as an 8-year-old seeing “Ted Shows How” on the checklist and wondering what it could possibly be. Much like kids must have puzzled over “Words of Wisdom” or “Lindy Shows Larry” a few years earlier.
Of these 107 multiplayer cards Topps depicted at least one (future) Hall of Famer 58 times. Often there were a pair of immortals on the card, and one time — this card right here — Topps struck gold with three players destined for Cooperstown. What’s not to like?
The photo was taken at the 1964 All-Star game at Shea Stadium. Topps used a few other All-Star game photos over the years (what better time to find pair of star players), and the 1967-68 player boycott required that they find some older photos.
The vast majority of these multiplayer cards employed titles meant to praise the players — clubbers, maulers, aces, heroes, etc. With the above card Topps stayed on firmer ground, telling us only that the depicted men were Angels, and were catchers. On the back, we learn that they are both “fine handlers of pitchers [who] know when to call for the right pitch in the right situation.” As for their hitting, Topps wisely ignored their unimpressive major league resumes so they could brag about long ago successes in the minors (13 years earlier in Ed’s case.)
I know that Keith Olbermann has spent time researching the Topps photo archive, and I recently asked him whether he’d ever run across multiplayer groupings that were not used — indicating that Topps took a bunch of these every year and selected a subset of them to produce. Keith said he’d only seen a couple of new groupings, which suggests that Topps mostly printed what they got. The photographer was likely snapping some photos and said, “hey, come over here and let me get you both.” On this day, the two Angel backstops might have been warming up pitchers at the same time, and here we are.
This photo of the two biggest stars in baseball was taken at the 1961 All-Star game at Boston’s Fenway Park. You can also make out Elston Howard, John Roseboro and Henry Aaron engaged in witty banter behind them. Oh, to have been wandering around the field on that day.
This is one of my all-time favorite cards, because of its breathtaking beauty. The sunny day, the uniforms, the matching “on-deck” stances. Cardboard perfection.
The title is wonderfully alliterative, if perhaps an odd way to refer to men known for their speed on the bases and in the outfield. But I shall not quibble nor debate this card.
“I see the boys of summer in their ruin.”
When this card reached store shelves in late summer of 1957, these four wonderfully talented men could not have realized what lay ahead for their careers, or their team, or their city. Their expressions showed nothing but the justifiable pride and happiness for all they had accomplished thus far. Why shouldn’t it last forever?
In their 1969 set Topps used four multiplayer cards, this being the final of the four in the checklist. And then, for whatever reason, it was all over. The multiplayer card was retired.
I have never heard an explanation for why. Its not as if Topps stopped other non-base cards — they still put out team photos, and tried “Boyhood Photos” or “Record Breakers.” These cards seemed to be very popular, and comparatively easy to put together. You just need someone to write 200 words on the back. Hell, I would have done it for free.
I consider these 107 cards, spread over 13 years, to be their own special subset, and if you have not yet experienced them I suggest you find some. If filling in all of these old Topps sets is too much for your budget, how about just getting these 107 cards? There is no better way to celebrate the game and the era.
As for me, I need to figure out a way to make a poster, something more attractive than my feeble attempt below.