RIP Ed Kranepool 1944-2024

     I am so saddened by the passing of the Original Original Met that I felt compelled to post here for the first time in far too long. I never got to see Ed play so I really only know him through stories and of course baseball cards. 

He got a career capper in 1980 which has all his career stats.

 

 

One of the great things about Ed is that his run of flagship Topps cards fits perfectly into two 9-pocket pages. 

The '63 was the last card I got of his, thanks to Tony Oliva.

 

 

Ed came up as a 17(!) year old bonus baby in the Mets first year of 1962 and stayed through 1979.  He still holds the record for most games played in an Amazins uniform. 

That middle card is a custom and the auto is real.

 

 

He has this third page of odds and ends in my Mets pages and in fact has the honor of being the only person to lead off two books because he is also the subject of a favorite autograph of mine:

 

 

A 100 years ago my Uncle Ron, the very big Yankees fan, waited in a very long line at a corporate show to get me an autograph of a Mets player. I have cherished this one a very long time and now, sadly, even more so. 

Original Met, Miracle Met, Lifetime Met. Godspeed Ed.

Retro Fun.

       It is safe to say most of us reached retro card saturation sometime in the early to mid-aughts.  The Topps Archives and Topps Heritage sets in 2001 begat Upper Deck's Vintage and Decades series and opened up a floodgate of reprints, design reuse, and pseudo-retro sets.  Sometimes it is refreshing and neat but most of the time it is gratuitous and poorly executed.  And since Topps keeps pumping out their Heritage and revamped Archives sets over and and over, year after year, we get very little variation in the presentation of our nostalgia.

Enter Topps Super 70s Sports Baseball.  If you recognize the name and follow this dude on twitter, you know the whole tongue-in-cheek schtick this feed has.  It posts multiple retro photos a day with an amusing over-the-top caption to it to inflict an emotional response: sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes ridiculous.  When I saw they had teamed up with Topps to put out a card set, I couldn't resist.  Lemme tell you, they had me at the graphic on the box:

When I saw the design of the cards, I knew immediately that they were going for someone like me who wants the vibe of old school cards but not the horrible repetition the whole parade has become.  If you are as much of a card nerd as I am (and if you are reading this blog, I assume you are) you recognized the elements right away: The script team logo from 1978, the pennant flag from 1977, and the ribbon from 1979 (or 1974 perhaps?) all remixed and reorganized into something organic and new.  It's like hearing a perfect cover version of a popular overplayed song that makes the whole thing come alive again.

The "pack" was actually a plastic box sealed with tamper tape. Very interesting indeed.

 

 

I pre-ordered this stuff, which I NEVER do even for Ginter or Heritage, back in early November.  I got a late Christmas present when they arrived on Boxing Day.  And yup, I love them as much as I thought I would.

 

First and foremost, new photos!  One of the huge complains I and so many other collectors is when they put old guys on new cards, they use the same pictures over and over and over and over again.  I know I have written about it and I know other bloggers have too so when I see new shots from the no doubt bottomless pile Topps should have, it makes me very happy indeed.  The other thing I noticed right away is that they feel right.  The vintage cardboard is always a plus on these sets. I know shiny white glossy paper looks better but when you are doing this sort of thing, it really should be thick and pulpy and dull.  It makes the backs look right too:

 

I probably should have scanned more backs but the cartoons are wonderful and they look new though someone with more knowledge than me could probably figure out if they are reused.  Either way, they let a third of the back be the comic and I am more than okay with that.  The backs themselves are in the color scheme of 1977 or 1979 with the ribbon from '79 featured.  I was kind of expecting the humorous tone of the S70sS Twitter feed in the write-up but they are pretty straight forward.  I doubt Topps would want to alienate anyone with a Kevin Costner joke on the back of a Cal Ripken card (google it).

Lets look at all of these beauties.  I even got a nice little hit:

 

 

That's a Dave Parker autograph in the middle there.  I didn't have a Cobra signature in my collection so that one is going to stay.  The last two cards are themed parallels that add the colorful banners of 1975 to the mix.  I think it might have been too much to ask for the whole set to look like that so that is a nice addition and kinda what parallels should do in the first place.  I might need to look into making an entire page of the Magnificent Mustaches. 

They did modern players in the set too, which is fine I guess but certainly not what I came to see.  Scherzer and Turner certainly fit in with a 70s theme, Cole and Soto, not so much.  Full disclosure: I am easily old enough to be Juan Soto's dad.

 

 

You may count more than 20 cards, that's because I also pre-ordered my favorite players, the Gary Carter, the Frank Thomas, the Mike Piazza (amusingly shown in his Marlins uniform), and of course the Mets players there on the bottom.  A wise decision since I didn't get any of them in my 20-card box.  These cards are easily the collecting highlight of the dumpster fire that has been 2020.  If you were on the fence about getting any of this stuff because you don't like all the faux-vintage that gets churned out, I suggest it highly.  I hope Topps learns from this and does more fun sets like this rather than just reprinting all their old cards.

Pollard Throws No-Hitter May 11, 1978.

    There are a few of you raising your eyebrows right now trying to remember a major league pitcher named Pollard who threw a no-no 42 years ago today.  Well, that's not quite the headline I am angling toward here.  The Pollard in question here is Robert, the ultimate lo-fi pioneer, lead singer of Guided By Voices (along with a couple dozen other off-shoots), Uncle Bob to a bunch of us music nerds. One of the things that made me want to start blogging again is that Goodwin Champions included him in their set last year and I went a little crazy...

I have a 1/1 printing plate waiting for me in COMC to join these colorful wonders.

Okay, how do I explain Robert Pollard and GBV in baseball terms?  Well, if the Beatles are Mickey Mantle (or Willie Mays?) and Nirvana is Bo Jackson (or Sandy Koufax?), then Bob would be Rocky Colavito (or Eddie Yost?) - the under the radar, out of the ordinary but similarly brilliant superstar for which there is a small but intensely devoted following.  Maybe Tim Raines would also work here or perhaps Tony Mullane (or even Ichiro?).  You get the idea.  His music is classic rock but somewhat alien.  It is timeless yet also fixed permanently in the British Invasion vibe and the DIY punk ethic of the early 80s.  Bob once defined his vision for the band as if the Beatles never stopped making music and what it would sound like.  He knocks out dense melodic songs by the score and most of them are under 2 minutes (though they have gotten a little longer as he's gotten older).  He puts out 2-3 albums a year with GbV and half a dozen EPs and side efforts and it is dizzying to keep up with but ultimately very rewarding.  The fans are also insanely devoted and encyclopedic in their knowledge.   Baseball fans and music fans are a mostly round Venn diagram that way when you think about it.  To me, these cards are the wonderful overlap of those two classic obsessions of mine. 

Last year I bought a huge lot of the base card, made a page, and then sent the rest to the fans.

Bob Pollard is a fascinating dude with an outrageous story.  He was a regular guy who went to college, played baseball and basketball, became a teacher, and seemed like your normal law-abiding citizen from Dayton OH.  But he always loved music and one day in the early 80s he just decided he was going to be in a band and make rock music and he didn't care what anyone thought of him. So he and his buddies started recording songs in his garage on a boombox and they just kept doing it.  They would play local shows and they became this eclectic local oddity but when people listened to the songs, they realized this guy was actually pretty good.  They were the underest of underground the indiest of indie. But word spread and legends grew and by the mid-90s when this dude was going to college, he discovered their music through a friend who saw I loved the Beatles and thought I should give them a listen.  I have been a fanatic ever since.  And even with a retirement 15 years ago (like most premature sports retirements, it didn't stick), they have come back and are still going very strong. I was looking forward to seeing them  for the seventh time this year, but, well, you know. GbV usually does epic 3 hour shows with a 40+ song set list (they do 100 songs on New Years) but mind you, Bob also comes out with a cooler of beer and drinks and sings until he can't the lyrics so it's usually a glorious train wreck.

My favorite legend of the man, though, is the no-hitter he threw in college - 42 years ago today.  It is just a strange wrench thrown in the machine of a quirky rock and roll story.  If you go to one of their shows, you will see plenty of t-shirts that commemorate this perfectly non-historic but wonderfully odd phenomenon. 

Did Bono or Sting ever throw a no hitter (or the UK equivalent?) I doubt it. Jon Bon Jovi never scored four touchdowns in a game and I am certain Bob Dylan never scored 100 points in a basketball game.  But my ultimate rock hero once pitched a no-hitter in college.

So here are not the five "best" songs but the most indicative.  If you like any or all of these, you have a fighting chance to join the club and be a Guided By Voices covert.  One of these songs is even responsible for my eBay screen name.  Give them a shot, go on, I'll wait. Or don't, I'm not a cop.

If any of you took the time to listen, let me know what you think. And even if you didn't, I know the crazed nature we all collect cards with and for me it definitely is similar with music and I figure if anyone can understand the excitement when two of those worlds collide, it's you guys. Seeing trading cards of the front man of your favorite band (when 98% of folks have never even heard of your your favorite band) was the absolute highlight of my 2019 collecting. Plus the man is a sports legend, he threw a no-hitter!

Dilemma.

       Well, I have been home from work for the last 8 days.  I spent the first two exactly how one would expect when they have been furloughed from work indefinitely: I sat around in my pajamas and watched movies and did little to nothing.  And while that certainly sounds ideal, after a while, it gets a bit boring.  So I then dove into my collection and really started working on things; a full spring cleaning.  I did a little documentation of it and it will no doubt show up on a later blog post, but right now I have a specific situation that I was hoping to get some advice on.   

I found in a pile of cards with these two autographed beauties.  A 1972 Carlton Fisk rookie done in ball point pen at a card show in the 1980s and a 1983 Fleer Superstar Special of  Fisk and Gary Carter with the Carter signed in blue sharpie.  I am not a big autograph collector but I am a huge Carter guy and a big Fisk fan so it makes sense that I own these two cards.  So what's the issue?

I put that 1983 Fleer aside a long time ago to send to Fisk to hopefully get his autograph on it.  I believe this was right after Carter had died.  I decided not to for two reasons: I don't want to lose the Carter card and Fisk asks for a $40 donation to a cancer charity for him to sign through the mail.  I am not keen on either thing.  This is not to say I am a fan of cancer (I mean, who is?) but I am not big on paying for autographs, even if it is a donation to charity (I did check on the charity and it is legit and highly rated).  And obviously, the Carter card is not easy to replace since he is dead.  Carter was a prolific signer so I have seen it before but this is one of my favorites and it is a very tight and clear signature.  I can mail the card certified or insured or whatever to make sure it gets to Florida at Fisk's address but things do get lost.  Plus, sometimes when you mail something to a famous person, it gets misplaced or you get a different card back, or it gets lost on their pile of things never to be seen again.  I have seen my stacks of mail so I can only imagine what a hall of famer's looks like.  

I mean, I own a Fisk autograph (above) so it's not like I need to have one.  I own several other Carter autographs on cards, balls, photos, etc. so it's not like I will be losing the only one I have.  But it is a risk and a charitable investment.  I can afford $40 (for now) so cost is not the biggest problem, only principle.  So, what do I do?  Do I take the chance and mail the Carter card to Fisk and hope it gets there and hope he signs and returns this card to me.  Or do I forget the whole thing and enjoy my collection as is and do nothing.  This is not a binding poll or anything, but if you have an opinion or any advice, please leave a comment or drop me an email. And I hope you are staying safe and sane if you are stuck in the house for a while or worse, if you are out in the world dealing with people.

Little Big.

       I often wonder what I would do if I were rich.  I live a comfortable middle class lifestyle with very few complaints: I get to go on vacation, work on my terms (mostly), want for very little, and, hey, I even get to indulge in my hobbies.  I also collect baseball cards on my own terms with my own little group of rules - but much like my lifestyle, I can't help but imagine what would change in my piles if instead of $100 of disposable income a month, you suddenly injected millions of dollars. 

I adore old tobacco cards.  I love the look of them, I love the feel of them, and I even love the smell of them.  I really hate graded cards mostly because all you can touch is the little plastic prison and you don't get the tactile joy of colorful pieces of century-old cardboard.

I like to think that if I were suddenly flush with cash that the page you are looking at would be full of real cards rather than knockoffs.  Fourteen of these cards sit in a sort of limbo of unofficial reprint and unscrupulous counterfeit.  You'd know this if you look at the backs. 

The one in the middle is a Hygrade reprint from the 1980s.  It announces with great pride that this card, if real, would be worth $700! I have one of the t206 Honus Wagner that tells us it would be worth north of $8000.  Eight grand for a Wagner?!?! Sign me up with or without a lottery win, I'll take out a loan for that price. Today's hobby puts that card in a six-figure number and you can easily go into millions for it.  If I were rich, would I invest in Hans rather than stocks?  You're damn right I would.  Alas, they would all be in graded slabs but I would be willing to forgive that this one time.  I have even seen one of these in person at the Cooperstown hall of fame.  I am pretty sure that is as close as I will ever get to one, much less owning one.

Here in the top row, you see more beautiful legitimate reprints of t206s, this time by Capital - courtesy of our friends at Renata Galasso - also from the 1980s.  But then they take a turn, as now sadly, our narrative will as well. Let's get back to those backs for a moment. 

You will see that they reproduced the backs nicely and also, wisely, put the line 'Capital Reprint' at the bottom.  In that lower corner, you will see what looks like legitimate looking aged cards and yet when you look at the backs, you see that there is some paper loss, right at the bottom. Hmmm.... What that means is some low-life imbecile tried to make these look and feel real, and to the non-collector they might have gotten away with it.  I picked these up at a show in a dime box years ago and the seller and I had a giggle over them.  He forgot where he got them from but I am certain he was not the perpetrator of the awful attempt at fraud.  But see, in the end this is why we can't have nice things.  This is one of the main reasons we have graded cards in the first place and have to hide cardboard away forever behind plastic.  Sure, any good collector would know these are garbage, but they were made to fool the layman into thinking they had vintage treasure.  They make me sad and I am glad they are now in my collection, free to be ridiculed for the trash that they are.  But they still look neat in and of themselves and I like to think the other reprints make fun of them when I close the binder, like some weird outtake from Toy Story.

Let's cleanse the palate with the opposite in size and stature.  These are 1971 Topps Supers and they are firmly ensconced in the oddball section of the hobby.  And they are some of my favorite things ever.

Once again, it is definitely a touch thing.  They are the size of a postcard and they feel heavy in your hand.  They are made of a thick cardboard that almost seems like they'd make moving boxes out of them otherwise.  They even make a neat sound when they smack together (though I don't recommend doing that if you care about future value).  Plus the colors and faces on these really pop.  Topps did similar supers in 1969 and 1970 too, but I think they perfected them in 1971.  Of course, sigh, they never made them again after that.  They've made plenty of big cards, sure, but these were not just parallels or fancy inserty box toppers or anything, these were their own set and a completely different thing. These eight will have a place of honor in my book of weird things.

I added these recently in a Facebook marketplace purchase, in fact it was 10 cards for $10 (a bargain at twice the price) so if anyone needs a Rico Carty or a Larry Dierker from this set, let me know and we can work something out.  If I were rich, I could just altruistically send them to you but instead, we'll have to trade like the unwashed masses do.

***

Post script: the title of this post refers to a very odd band, if you know them you know what I am talking about, if you don't you can click here (so so NSFW) and feel your brain melt for a few minutes.  Give it a chance, it is catchy, though, seriously.

Nacho Break.

       I did something last month I hadn't done in a long while, I took part in a group break.  The recent maestro of such activities, Nachos Grande, had one that was all product I didn't plan to buy by the box, so I saw a good opportunity to score some Mets cards and maybe luck out and nab an Amazin' hit.  $35 was my entry fee into this little lottery, so let's see how I made out. 

The first thing busted open was Opening Day. 

There seemed to be a copious amount of Mets because if I didn't get the whole team, I came damn close.  So far so good. I also scored a couple of the shiny blue parallels. 

The next box was Gypsy Queen.  I have never enjoyed busting packs of this stuff, but I kind of liked this years dark borders and not-so-overfancy design, so having the Mets cards was optimal.  Once again, the card gods shined a little light on me, and while they didn't see fit to grant me any of the major hits, I did get most of the team set and a couple inserts, including a mini Tom Seaver.

Okay guys, gimme the leg-up pitcher pose!

After years of pedantic sameness, Bowman has an eye catching design this year, with half bleed pictures and a nifty way to tell prospect cards from regular cards (simply reverse the design).  I didn't get much in the way of unknown rookie players (I got the same guy twice) but at least I got my first Steven Matz and Kevin Plawecki cards. 

Alas at this point, the card gods stopped smiling on me and scowled tremendously for the last three components of the break.  I got one card only from Topps Museum Collection, though it was Jacob deGrom, and just a single base card from the Diamond King box, but at least it was the right player - Gary Carter.  There was a bonus blaster involved as well and I did score a single Tom Seaver card from it.  Something is better than nothing, I suppose, but my dreams of a low number white whale hit were dashed with extreme prejudice.  Oh well, such is the nature of the beast. 

Nacho took a little pity on me and was nice enough to include some bonus Mets cards. 

I didn't have one of those Dwight Gooden rookie all star cards for his player collection, so that was a very nice bonus indeed.

And while I am sure I have multiple copies of all these cards, I never get tired of 1987 Topps cards.  I am in a very small minority in that feeling, I know. 

Nacho also packaged this cards impeccably and included a nice note.  I always appreciate such courtesies.

Oh, and there was one last little surprise, a pack of 2012 Triple Play.  I really enjoyed that initial Triple Play offering from Panini, so I tore into that pack with gusto.

Those cartoon caricatures are great and I scored a David Wright sticker.  Sweet.

I'd like to thank Nacho for doing this break and since you do so many, I am sure it won't be my last.  You should go check out his page and keep an eye out for one you'll like.  He obviously likes to make sure everyone gets an autographed card, so he included his own:

"This is not a Topps product" the back gloriously trumpets and you're right, it's a whole lot better.  I now own four or five personalized cards of bloggers as well as a few custom cards.  These never cease to tickle me, hell, I should make a page of them.

Reciprocation.

I have ended a long fallow period of blogging and declared this month the one where I settle all draft folder business so I can move on anew without dozens of unfinished posts hanging over my head.  This past week, I have concentrated on trade posts that for whatever reason, did not get completed. 

       In one week of August 2014, I received not one but two packages in return for my sending out unsolicited cards.  The first bunch is a perfect little pile from everyone's favorite chronicler, Fuji.  Apparently, I had sent him a little something in a fit of mass mailing and these are the cards he came back with:

I must say, two game used cards and two autographs is tough to beat.  I especially love the Jorge Toca, one of my favorite Mets prospects that never panned out.  He was supposed to be the Cuban savior and he wasn't even as good as a Cuban sandwich.  Plus, it is hard to beat a shiny Dickey and an even shinier David Wright.  Allow me to extend a 遅ればせながら ありがとう to Fuji for these great cards I know I can use.

The other package that arrived in the dog days was one from Robert of $30 a Week Habit.  I had sent him a stack of gold numbered parallels I had found in a dime box over the summer for his Insanity Set.  Finding cards for this project of his has been one of my favorite altruistic distractions and he always returns the favor in kind.  This time, he outdid himself:

First of all, more than anyone, Robert looks at and follows my want lists.  He sent me a half dozen 1983-84 OPC hockey cards for one of my pages.  And then, not to be out done, he sent a low numbered camo Mets card from 2013 and a Johan Santana game used Heritage jersey card.  Johan will always be a hero to us Mets fan, so this piece of cloth was greatly appreciated.

I always refer to how endlessly polite Robert is, and his friendly note that was included in the package is no different.  Thank you, Robert.

Break It Down For Me, Fellas.

Due to the copious amount of half-writtten posts therein, I have declared March to be the month where I settle all unfinished draft folder business.  This next week, I am bound and determined to get up and thank all of the kind souls who have traded with me and sent me cards. 

      Yesterday, I posted a contest winner and low and behold today I discovered another pile of booty I won from a generous blogger that had not been given proper showcase.  This batch comes from Gavin of Baseball Card Breakdown, a fine blog I suggest highly (mostly because of stuff like this).  Last June, defgav held a One Year Anniversary contest where the prizes were lots and lots of lots of autographs.  And when he announced the winner in early July, the randomizer had given me the magic number of 21 which came up, so thank you random chance and Marquis Grissom for the following lot:

I chose the lot with the nicest Mets autograph - shocker, I know.  The Ron Swoboda has found a happy place in my Amazin' auto collection; odd coincidence that this is the second mention of good ol' Ron this week.  The George Foster auto is also pretty cool, and as for Toby Harrah and Daryl Boston, well, they aren't bad guys, are they.  Heck, those Topps Retired autos are cool no matter what.  The other 5 cards here I think are in return for the aforementioned Marquis Grissom rookies I sent Gavin.  Or maybe he just threw them in because he's a nice guy.  I honestly can't recall.  Who knew that Jacob DeGrom would pitch so well and win Rookie of the Year?

Oh, but that's not all for this little post, look at this:

You gotta love the use of old school stamps for the job they were intended.  When I worked at the baseball card store back in the day, we used to buy stamp collections for pennies on the dollar (since most stamps aren't worth more than what they are issued for, after all) and then used most of the stamps to just mail stuff.  It was a slightly ingenious/diabolical way to keep shipping costs down.  Lastly, take a good look at the note Gavin included...

He drew me a David Wright sketch card!

As you can see, I cut that beauty out right away and believe me, it has since found a place of honor in my Wright collection as (technically) my first 1 of 1 of him.  Thanks Gavin!

Football '14 Week 16: Playoffs?

       The playoffs for this team started last week and they took advantage of a Bears team that looked much more interested in tee times and travel plans than actually playing football.  This week is the game.  The one that will decide if this is a good team that has had a terrible streak of luck or if this is a bad team that deserves its fate if they lose.  There are few words I could add to measure the magnitude of win and your in.  That is the joy of the playoffs, if you win out, no one cares if you are 13-3 or 8-8.  I am going to turn the mike over to Uncle Al for a few extra inspirational words:



I don't know what to say really.
Three minutes
to the biggest battle of our professional lives
all comes down to today.
Either
we heal
as a team
or we are going to crumble.
Inch by inch
play by play
till we're finished.
We are in hell right now, gentlemen
believe me
and
we can stay here
and get the shit kicked out of us
or
we can fight our way
back into the light.
We can climb out of hell.
One inch, at a time.



Now I can't do it for you.
I'm too old.
I look around and I see these young faces
and I think
I mean
I made every wrong choice a middle age man could make.
I uh....
I pissed away all my money
believe it or not.
I chased off
anyone who has ever loved me.
And lately,
I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror.



You know when you get old in life
things get taken from you.
That's, that's part of life.
But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff.
You find out that life is just a game of inches.
So is football.
Because in either game
life or football
the margin for error is so small.
I mean
one half step too late or to early
you don't quite make it.
One half second too slow or too fast
and you don't quite catch it.
The inches we need are everywhere around us.
They are in ever break of the game
every minute, every second.



On this team, we fight for that inch
On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us
to pieces for that inch.
We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch.
Cause we know
when we add up all those inches
that's going to make the fucking difference
between WINNING and LOSING
between LIVING and DYING.



I'll tell you this
in any fight
it is the guy who is willing to die
who is going to win that inch.
And I know
if I am going to have any life anymore
it is because, I am still willing to fight, and die for that inch
because that is what LIVING is.
The six inches in front of your face.



Now I can't make you do it.
You gotta look at the guy next to you.
Look into his eyes.
Now I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you.
You are going to see a guy
who will sacrifice himself for this team
because he knows when it comes down to it,
you are gonna do the same thing for him.



That's a team, gentlemen
and either we heal now, as a team,
or we will die as individuals.
That's football guys.
That's all it is.
Now, whattaya gonna do?

Night Owl Trade: Part 2. (or The Night Owl Strikes Back)

       Last month Greg of the indefatigable Night Owl Cards sent me what was promised to be "part one" of what is our never-ending volley of trades.  Part two arrived in my mailbox a week or so ago and, you know the old cliche about sequels never living up to the original?  Well, the Owl outdid himself here and sent me the Godfather 2 of trade parts (or it could be The Empire Strikes Back, depending on your level of film geekiness). 

Turns out ol' Greg was playing possum with me on this particular pile.  He knew all along that he had these cards for me but gave me no indication.  I knew it was you, Fredo, except he didn't break my heart this time.  He made it all a-flutter with shiny Mets cards. 

You have to wonder where this cadre of randomly awesome Mets cards came from...seems he was part of some massive group breaks and he chose the Mets as his secondary team for some of them.  This landed me those shiny ones from before and these Archives short prints that I never would have gotten around to acquiring.  Plus it landed me a Kevin McReynolds autograph which will go nicely on my page of 1980's Mets signatures. 

Look, more sparkly shiny Johan goodness!  Though you will also notice which player I chose to cover up with Greg's nice little note.  And I know how it must have pained him to send me minis, much less hall of fame Tom Seavery minis.  In fact, all those cards on the bottom there are tiny.  Those 1980's league leader minis are held in high regard in my world as I vividly remember finding a big lump of change in the cushions of my couch when I was 12 and buying out the Rite Aid of the 1987 variety.  You will also notice he didn't even Bip me this time around.  And to think I was looking forward to making a page of 9 1989 Donruss Lance Blankenships.  Oh well, you can't have everything.  Thanks Greg! 

Story Time.

       Today is my brother's birthday and I got him the exact same thing this year as I did last year (don't say I am not consistent).  I did get him a book as well to break up the monotony because nothing says excitement like a big thick encyclopedia full of statistics - this is not sarcasm, we are nerds after all.  But I also got him one of those odd piece-of-mind type gifts that might be a physical item for me but it is a grand affirmation for him and that is where our story begins. 

       Let's jump into the WABAC machine to 1987.  The Mets were reigning World Series champs and a man we call The Franchise had just retired.  I was 12 years old and deep into my obsession with collecting baseball cards and my brother had just gotten his drivers license.  It was a good time to alive in the suburbs of New Jersey.  If you know anything about Jersey, North Jersey especially, you know that kids hang out in the mall because there are like 7000 of them.  One of the late great stores of that era was called The Wiz  (and that little article told me that it still exists online, oh the power of the internets). Now, The Wiz was one of those all in one electronics stores, it sold video games, small appliances, stereo equipment, records, the works.  It was quirky as hell (though not even the quirkiest of local stores) and those not from around here might know it from Seinfeld (and Mets cards) and hell, fucking Joe Namath was their spokesman for a while.

And the jingle, oh my god the jingle.  Frozen in time in 1987 but still so damn catchy that I will hum it at the weirdest times and basically at the mere mention of the word Wiz.  I am going to embed the video to share the earworm.

So now you have the background of how my brother, The Wiz, Tom Seaver, and my Mets all come together.  I don't remember where I heard it, but sometime in the summer of 1987, Tom Seaver was going to sign free autographs at the Garden State Plaza in Paramus.  This was a big deal.  The word was all over the place and I wanted to go.  Oh dear god did I want to go.  My memory is a little fuzzy as to why, but my mother would not take me.  I am going to go out on a limb and guess I was grounded for something (I was a tad rebellious at the age of 12).  I was crestfallen, crushed.  But there was hope - hope in the shape of my brother and his drivers license.  He could get me my Tom Seaver autograph.  Remember, this was before the internet and 1000 insert cards and before every kind of player went to card shows to sign; Seaver being recently retired meant he was not part of the old timers brigade like Mickey Mantle that dominated the shows of the time.  In my mind, this was my only chance to ever get a Tom Seaver autograph ever.  So I turned to my brother...now, he was 17 and could go anywhere and do anything he wanted with his new found freedom, so doing a favor for his pain in the ass little brother that did not involve girls and/or beer was not high on his list of priorities.  I begged, pleaded, cajoled, and several other synonyms of nagged my poor brother until I wore him down.   He did not collect sports memorabilia with the fervor that I did but he was a huge Mets fan and I think in the end the notion of getting to meet Tom Seaver, if ever so briefly, changed his mind.  So he went to The Wiz in Paramus on a Sunday afternoon and it was an absolute mob scene.  Apparently every little Mets fan around had somehow convinced his mother to go.  My brother parked liked a million miles away and waited on line for over two hours and his interaction with Tom Seaver was a nanosecond of recognition and hardly a glance.  But he got me my autograph.  He got it on a 1987 Topps Tom Seaver card that I had just gotten.  An odd choice, yes, but I was a kid and really, all I wanted was Seaver's autograph on something, anything.  I remember every square inch of that card.  The day game shadows on Tom's Boston away uniform.  The blue sharpie that kind of tilted ever so slightly on the signature.  It was a great autograph.  And my brother got it for me.  And believe me, he didn't let me forget it.  I had that card very prominently displayed among my things and for weeks and months afterward, my brother would guilt me about going through the throngs of barbarian hoards to get me my Tom Seaver autograph.  And I was grateful. Really, I was.  So damned grateful that a year later I traded it to my friend Jared.

Wait, WHAT?!?!??

Let's tilt the lever of the WABAC ahead a smidgen to a year later.  I was hanging out with my friend Jared at his apartment and I had brought my baseball binder full of all my favorite cards.  Now, Jared was a bigger Mets fan than I was.  Hell, Jared might be the biggest Mets fan of all time.  When he turned 13, he didn't have a bar mitzvah, he had a bar Metsvah, that should tell you all you need to know.  When Jared heard that I had Tom Seaver autograph, he wanted it.  I told him I would never trade it.  I spent the entire day in his house that day and we just talked about baseball cards and how much he wanted that card.  Eventually, he wore me down. 

He laid out all his cards and let me pick out whichever ones I wanted.  He talked up all his cards.  He talked down the Seaver autograph - heck it wasn't even on a Mets card, why would I want it?  He was a master manipulator; he knew what he wanted.  And eventually he got it.  And sadly, I don't remember most of the cards I traded for it.  I do remember a 1975 Harmon Killebrew being involved because that is an awesome card.  I remember maybe some Pete Rose cards involved and some Mets doubles he had.  The point was, I just traded a dollar for 10 nickles.  I was weak or perhaps Jared was just strong.  He was a smart kid and I somehow imagine him a high profile lawyer or something now.  We lost touch not long after this trade and I wouldn't blame the trade, per se, but I had moved away from the town he lived in and that's just how friendship works when you are 13.  Out of sight, out of mind.

What was not out of mind was the fact that I had just traded away what was the cornerstone of my collection.  I regretted the decision immediately.  Oh, and my brother.  My brother has NEVER let me forget it.   You did what??!?!??!?  He was mad then and he is still pretty miffed now if the subject comes up.  What was probably the nicest thing my brother had done for me up to that point and I had just given that away.  And what's worse, I gave it away for stuff I cannot even remember.

I think my brother has reason to be kinda pissed.  Though that Killer is pretty sweet.

Let's fast forward to a couple weeks ago.  I was searching Listia aimlessly and I stumbled upon this listing.  To end the suspense, it was this:

It couldn't possibly be.  I emailed the seller as to how he obtained this card.  I asked him about 100 other questions about it.  He didn't have a lot of answers.  He did have many other signed raw cards online.  I compared this card to a few other Seaver autographs.  It's not perfect, but then again, when Seaver was scribbling a bazillion autographs at The Wiz in 1987, his autograph wasn't perfect then either.  The odds that this is the same card are practically nil as I still imagine Jared somewhere clutching and loving that card more than his family.  I didn't care.  I decided it was fate, I must have it.  And I won it.  And earlier in the week, I opened an envelope and there it was, after 26 years in the desert.  Now, like I said, I am quite certain that this is not the same card my brother got me but to me, it is a symbol.  A representation of a small but very specific kind of redemption and affirmation.  I have had it sitting on top of a pile of cards that I see every day when I wake up and seeing it never doesn't make me smile.  I hope my brother can forgive me my impetuous nature at the age of 13.  I hope my brother knows how much I appreciate not only the fact that he got this card for me, but about a million other things he has done in time as my big brother that have gone above and beyond the call of duty.  I hope somewhere Jared is happy with his card, but for me, this card is much better...I re-earned a piece of my soul by obtaining this card.  Happy Birthday, bro