Who Needs the Hall?: I've got Specs

I'm one of the people who gets bent from time to time about the BBWAA and the HOF. Ultimately the HOF is subjective. The writers, the principal makers of the myths we all yearn for, vote. Strangely, a lot of what tends to tips the scales are exactly the myths surrounding anything a given player actually did.

For example, slash lines and OPS+ for three players:
Player A: .298/.352./502, 128
Player B: .265/.346/.469, 121
Player C: .304/.353/..476, 131

One of these is a HOFer, one was on this year's ballot, one is a player few people ever consider for Hall inclusion these days. (Answers at the end of the post)

The space between the popular enduring myths and those that become the legends passed down in bars is the same between those guys who get in the HOF and those who are remembered for various other exploits obscured by the spotlight.

So, instead of an anti-BBWAA, anti-PED, anti-HOF rant, I bring you George "Specs" Toporcer.

I know, who the H@ll is Specs Toporcer? Playing with the St. Louis Cardinals from 1921-1928, "Specs" was a utility infielder who, or so they say, was literally pulled off of the sandlots at the age of 22 and put into the Cardinals lineup. His impact was immediate. Here's the most widely circulated stories about his call up and time in the bigs, courtesy of Baseball Library.

Branch Rickey once told this story about Specs Toporcer: "A 19-year-old boy who weighed 142 pounds and never had played a game of pro ball came off the field at Orange, New Jersey. I watched this kid and saw him take off his glasses and, with his hands outstretched, grope his way along the wall to the showers. My captain turned to me and said, `For God's sake, who sent him up?' " Link here

Quite a way to break in, right? As fate would have it, he thus became the first bespeckled ballplayer in the history of the game, leading the greatness of Danny Macfayden and Alex Cole. He is, in a way, the patron saint of us guys who wear glasses. Although I've seen his career derided in a few places, his career slash of .279/.347/.373 holds up pretty well for a middle infielder.

After retirement he became a minor league manager, and was even director of minor league operations of the Boston Red Sox for a time. Tragically, after several operations on his eyes to improve his sight he went blind in 1951.

He might be best remembered for his half biography, half instruction manual pictured above.  And let me assure you, the instructional part is no joke. Seriously, check it out. I was fortunate to get this rather worn copy for $10 on ebay awhile back, with better copies being hard to get. When opening it, I was shocked to find this:

Yep, in poor condition, but inscribed by the man himself. Pretty cool! Specs isn't in THE hall, but there's a hall for him among the people who continue to talk about baseball in bars and ball yards. To paraphrase Arthur Miller, attention must be paid. 

At any rate, gonna try to get in a post a week from here on out now that things have settled down. Have a good one everybody and goodnight Pumpsie Green, wherever you are!

Player A: Jim Rice
Player B: Dale Murphy
Player C: Tony Oliva
Look at the numbers again. Weird, isn't it? Tony for the HOF!

Happy Holidays!!!!

It's been awhile. Just dropping in to wish ALL of you Happy Holidays!!!!

Mounds View Meet Up with GCRL

Last week I hinted that I picked up something cool at the little show in Mounds View, MN, where I had the privilege of meeting another blogger, GCRL, in person. It's kind of weird to use the word "privilege" but let's face it: we're all busy, we all have things to do. We might be near/in the same area, but stories of bloggers meeting up aren't as common as you'd think they would be. At any rate, he took the time to come out, I took the time to stop, it was cool I hope that next time I have more minutes on my hands so we can talk some more shop!

At any rate, he said several time (and in his post!) that he was bummed the show was so small and that the vintage guy wasn't there. Still, it was a show, and it's been awhile since I've been to one. Next one on my neck of the woods will be...in February.

So I had a max budget and was looking to get a few set needs taken care of. There was a Henderson RC (started at $20, on condition I had it $12-15) I was after that I figured I'd drop a $20 on if the guy tossed in a CC Gypsy Queen auto he had on hand. I'd even go as high as $25 for both. So I inquired about the CC...$30. This wasn't going to go anywhere.

Not to be deterred, as I headed out there was a guy with a few autos from the 2001 Fleer Greats of the Game set, among them this one:

Marked $25 I offered him $20, we both walked away happy. It was a small show, but I'd put scoring a Kaline on-card auto for that is a nice score. 

Anyway, thanks again, Jim. And thanks for the info on upcoming shows in the Twin Cities!

Have a good one everybody and goodnight Pumpsie Green, wherever you are!

Seasons come and go...

and somehow THAT's the constant. The teams don't even stay the same (hello Nat's, goodbye Expos), much less the players.

The October 2 post on former-Ray Fernando Perez's tumblr feed gave me a good laugh. Birds crapping all over everything, particularly advanced metrics (have you seen Baltimore's run differential!), and tonight the Rays season. (But seriously, major ups to the O's. Now go kick some ass.)

As for Fer, he was one of the great Durham Bulls I loved watching back in grad school. As a graduate of Columbia University he was also, truth be told, the kind of player a dorked-out grad school baseball fan could really get behind. At one point other orgs thought highly enough of him that he was included in the Matt Garza trade, going over to the Cubs in exchange for a ton of prospects. Sadly, as his twitter feed reads, he's out of a job. Guess that means he's no longer one of MLB's working poor, but it's bottom of the barrel 47%. Or something like that. Guess that's how most poets end up.

With the Rays out of the hunt, thoughts have turned to who'll no longer be with the club next year. BJ is gone. Someone (Price? Hellickson? Shields? Niemann?) from the starting staff will be traded. When the Rays traded Garza I was bummed to lose a great pitcher, but losing Fer, a speedster in the CC, BJ, and DJ mold, was what hurt. I simply enjoyed watching the guy, and he was another link to the great Durham teams I watched as a finished up grad school.

When the compa got her PhD last year I asked him to give me a retweet from the patron saint of educated ballplayers. His response was to say, "I think that's Canseco." Miss seeing you play, 'nando. Hope things are treating you well.

Have a good one everybody and goodnight Pumpsie Green, wherever you are!

Catchers Finding Jesus: Bob Watson

It's later at night than I normally like it to be when I nod off, but I'm still grading after a great weekend away with the compa. Heck, I even met a fellow blogger GCRL IN PERSON, which was way cool. Added bonus was I got to give him an overdue trade package, which saved me a few ducats. Anyway, more on that later. 

Without further ado, the latest catcher finding Jesus, Bob "Bull" Watson. 

Technically he's not listed as a catcher here, but his 1969 card lists him as a C/OF, so he did know the position. According to BB reference, Bull even played a total of 10 games at catcher in a 17-year career, a full 1 of them (a whopping 2 innings worth!) in 1969. 

But here, on this card, he's listed as an OF and appears to be posing as if he were catching a pop-up (or witnessing the second coming of Christ), while wearing a catcher's mitt. And seriously: who needs Jesus more than a catcher who, inexplicably, has gone in to play the OF with his catcher's mitt? The ball is in the air, it's coming in his direction, and yes, he'll need divine intervention for this to come out right.

Indeed, who among us hasn't been the metaphorical Bob Watson?

Have a good one everybody and goodnight Pumpsie Green, wherever you are!

Feelin' kinda pensive: Coco Laboy

For reasons not fit to publish anonymously on the inter-tubes I've been in-and-out lately, pretty turned around. Things are fine, it's most just the shock of working in a high-stress environment. There are several blogger emails I need to get to (I'm on it!), and things are so crazy I came back across the country but forgot the central card I was sending away in a massive trade with Scott Crawford. Ugh.

Over the summer I put together a 100-card 1970 Topps starter set at the local. I figured the commons were 20 cents per, roughly equal to what I could expect to swing on ebay, so I figured, "why not?" I threw down a little more on a few select cards I thought were cool, and got out of there for not too much over $25.

All of which brings me to this:

If you've never heard of him before, José "Coco" Laboy had a 5-year career in the majors, all with the now-defunct Montreal Expos, Requiescat in pace. In 1969 he finished second in the ROY voting to Ted Sizemore, with such awards generally being a sign that things are moving in the right direction. 

Taking a step back from that, this remains one of the most poetic baseball card photos I've ever seen, on par with the greatest CC ever. Despite the auspicious start, Laboy remains trapped in the reality of being a 29 year-old rookie. He's not looking at the photographer, he's not even acknowledging us, as if he's all too conscious of how quickly seasons change, bats break, the balls stop finding holes or extra effort results in career-altering injury instead of a sharpening of one's skills and more success. 

And it's not as if his extensive minor league experience outlines a player undeserving of a shot in the Majors. And yet a career that began in 1959 wouldn't lead him to the majors until 10 years later. He was plagued by injuries, was solid yet unspectacular, and then when he finally got his chance was betrayed by his body one last time. And already, on the front of his 1970 Topps card, he is a man afraid to stare too hard into the future, looking instead into the uncertainties of the bat rack and the day's game, knowing that the individual pitches, at-bats, and days are faced in isolation, alone. With or without the roar of the crowd, Coco Laboy embodies life's apprehensions for all of us, the sic transit gloria fugit we  continually defer in our daily activities. 

Have a great one everybody and goodnight Pumpsie Green, wherever you are!

Denny McClain, Denny McClain...

there will never be another like Denny McClain---Ernie Harwell

Over the summer Denny McClain made a stop at a Chas Riverdogs game to sign and sell copies of his new book, I Told You I Wasn't Perfect. I'll review the book later on. McClain seemed like a nice enough guy, but the book really complicated that picture. At any rate, let's say I did a lot more reading about him this summer than I otherwise would have. The night of the game I was simply excited to meet the game's last 30-game winner with my dad, who reared me on stories of McClain's '68 season. Somehow the quick flameout thereafter never came up, but I digress.

I had to place an emergency COMC order to land this card since I called virtually every card shop in driving distance that I knew of and all of them said they had no Denny McClain cards. I then took a trip to the local (30 minutes away!) and, lo and behold, there were a few of these hiding out. I ended up with 4 of them and gave some away to the kids with me in line who had no McClain cards. Anyway, it's a great 1970 addition to  my Topps All-Time Project. 

McClain was sensational back in the day, something that gets overshadowed by the 30-game-winner memory and, well, lots of other things. 9 Shutouts is insane.

Have a good one everybody and goodnight Pumpsie Green, wherever you are!