1986 Topps and the Quest for the Holy Grail

The first set I ever tried to put together (and, if you saw the last post, FAILED to complete) was 1986 Topps.

I bought boxes and boxes of the stuff. Dwight Gooden dominated pitchers, and dominated my collection as well. I seemed to pull him every other pack.

We're not talking the heyday of the junkwax era, but by 1986 things were definitely trending in that direction. Overproduction and poor collation were the orders of the day, but my friends and I still had a great time. We traded, thought we'd be millionaires with our Pete Rose flashback cards, and put everything into top loaders that have long sense turned yellow.

Like I said, I was after the set. Whether it was collation or karma, trading with my friends only got me so far. In '86 there was only one card shop in the city where I lived, and is was about a 30 minute card ride away. I was 9 and utterly dependent on my parents to get to the great cardboard Mecca in Northwoods Mall. I begged, I pleaded, I saved my allowance. My parents finally acquiesced, and I got to go, '86 needs list in hand.

When our valiant knight arrived, the card shop punched him in the face and took his money. Innocently enough I asked if they could fill my list (I think it was only five or six cards then), thinking I'd grab the cards I needed for a pittance and have about 13 or so dollars left over to indulge in other thing.

This shop did not sell individual commons, but 100 card bags of commons at high book value. I had planned on getting my needs list filled and ogling the other cards I could buy until my parents picked me up 20 minutes later, but instead was confronted with either fulfilling the purpose of the trip or not.

It was pre-intertoobs so book value ruled by default. 100 commons was $5, so I bought $15 worth of '86 Topps commons and only got one of the cards I needed, Karl Best if I remember correctly. This was one of the worst disaster of my 9 y.o. life, and to make matters worse these weren't even all different cards. Each bag had multiples on top of multiples of the same card.

Any way, now 30-something and fully recovered, 23 years later, I'm going to finish the set. Suspiciously enough there are a few more cards missing than I remember, which gives me a good laugh. Guess my pre-teen organizational skills weren't quite up to the task!

Is anyone else going back to sets like this? And better, were all card shops like that one?

And I almost forgot: it has this gem of a card, #792 Charles Hudson.

Check out the outfielder behind him, throwing in the OTHER direction. Don't see that every day.

1986 Topps Needs

Complete! 12/11/09

1975 Topps Needs

As of 1/13/13 1 needed


228 George Brett -- Kansas City Royals


1976 Topps Goes Greek

I've been pretty negligent about keeping up with posting more of the great cards from the '76 Topps set, like the #98 Dennis Eckersley RC. It would be easy to favor this card because it's the RC of the first "closer" but I'm not too partial to Eck, and I honestly can't stand the man who made him the A's mulleted 9th inning madman, Tony LaRussa.

Rather, I love the font on the jersey and have no idea why the Indians would have ever gone away from it. It's the same one you see on the awning of every Greek restaurant in the world. For all we know he's pitching for Athens, as if the Indians have understood your need for retro and nostalgia and raised the stakes. "Cleveland, the original team of Western civilization." Of course, the idea that the "Indians" would sport a font with those kind of associations is an unending fount of irony. Makes me wish the Eck had taken the mound, in all his mulleted glory, for the Clevelanders against the Fighting Whites. Oh man, talk about vertigo.

Here is the definitive post in the '76 Eck at Project Baseball 1976.

And here is where you can get your official Fighting Whites gear.

Big Klu Comes to Town

So, another clue was "ripped shirt," and this 1957 Topps card of Ted Kluszewski.

Still not sure what the old man meant, but I did find this great post (featuring the same card!) over at POBC, where the authors say Klu had to cut the arms of his uni because his guns were so big the uni restricted his movement on his swing. And this is before roids, so we can assume that Klu's pythons were 110% natural, most likely acquired during cow-throwing competitions at his alma mater, Indiana University.

Seriously. I'm a built well enough but my arms roll around uninhibited in every shirt I own. I cannot fathom the maniac Klu must have been in the weight room to have guns like that. Or maybe it's just that his parents made their living as iron smiths and his moms is just as comfortable wielding a 75 lb. hammer as his dad is. Who knows? I imagine that in the off-season he was Mr. Redlegs's collection agent. That dude shows up at your door you pay up, no questions asked.

And once again, a beautiful vintage back:

My Father-in-law Mooned Me

So, family is exhausting. These are the people to whom you are most connected, with whom you have the best conversations and the worst disagreements. My folks were in town for the past week (!) and I am happy to say it was a great time. Next week I'll put up some pictures of the Maris Museum and the Metrodome.

For now, one of the coolest things that happened (non-my parents division) was that I received a package from one of my fathers-in-law. He had recently been in town, was intrigued by the whole blogging thing, and sent some cards he thought were interesting. Ever the educator, he enclosed a scavenger hunt index with the cards, so I had to figure out why each was special.

Under "Google Wally Moon Shot" was this card of Dodger Wally Moon.

Down to the technicolor this card is a classic '61 Topps. The area around his head is practically glowing and his cheeks look like he had Tammy Faye do his makeup. Wally has an incredible uni-brow that contrasts beautifully with an incredible, "awe-shucks I'm in the Big Leagues" smile. Obviously Wally played in the days before many players got pedicures or made a habit of scowling. 

More importantly, the term "moon shot" refers to the homers Wally hit at back in the day over the left field fence in the Coliseum (article here). I'd always just assumed a moon shot was a heck of a home run and had no idea it referred to Wally. Even better, fearing he wouldn't make it in his new digs after being traded from St. Louis, he sought the advice of Stan Musial on how to best take advantage of the the fence in left!

I'll include the back of this card just because the '61s are cool.

Thanks again Daddy D.

As American as Baseball Pie

Scott Eyre has eaten many a baseball pie since this photo was taken.

I have to thank Dinged Corners once again for trading this spectacular card to me. Eyre sports the togs of the Charleston Rainbows, the minor league team of my childhood. He's in College Park, a place that can only be described as a Bull Durham-like minor league dive with decrepit wood bleachers and all the decaying amenities typical of such environs. The city replaced College Park a while back with a new, family friendly Camden Yards-style park, which is nice, but it has nothing of the nickel beer night charm of a place like College Park.  

All of which leads to me saying that my folks are in town at the moment, which means posting will be infrequent for the next week or so. We'll be going to the Maris Museum in Fargo, and a game in Minn. on the 4th (!), so it'll be full of baseball.

Cy is going out today, as well as a package or two I've been unable to send out. Peace, and have a great fourth!