Dodger Blue Treasure in the Lonestar State

I recently traveled down to Austin, Texas on business. When I had a little down time, I decided to saunter over to Card Traders of Austin, which at least according to Yelp is the best sports card shop in the area. And I'm glad I did because I had a great experience.

The fellow who owns the shop couldn't be a nicer guy: knowledgable, down to the earth, and a real student of baseball. After chatting with him a bit, he quickly realized I bleed Dodger Blue. So he showed me a large collection he recently purchased that featured a cornucopia of Dodger-related items: yearbooks, media guides, postcards, team and player photos, even a comic book! And all of it from the '70s and early '80s—the sweet spot for this particular collector.

The shop owner made a more than reasonable offer that I couldn't possibly refuse. So I walked away with a stash of Dodger loot that I will take great delight in perusing in coming days and weeks. I'm sure these will provide ideal fodder for many future posts. Stay tuned ...

 

Tiger Trove

When it comes to card collecting, I'm more of an old-fashioned set builder than I am a hit chaser. Thus, I can only scratch my head in confusion when I hear stories of someone opening a case or box of cards, compiling all the autographs, relics, inserts, parallels, etc., and then discarding all the base cards.

It's hardly the case, however, that I feel indifference when I pull a hit. This past summer, my son and I were opening a 2013 Topps Heritage baseball box when my son asked me why one of the cards from a pack he'd ripped open had no picture on it, only writing. I took a look and my eyes immediately widened: it was a redemption card for a dual autograph of Al Kaline and Miguel Cabrera. My son knows how good Miggy is. So after I explained to him about Al Kaline's greatness, he quickly knew that we had hit the jackpot ... that is, if it ever gets sent to us.

I had heard the horror stories of redemptions never being sent or receiving a different (and often inferior) item from the one promised on the redemption card. So I tried to leaven my son's enthusiasm (and mine) by explaining that until we actually had the card in hand, we couldn't assume it was ours.

That didn't stop my son from telling everyone he knew about his potential acquisition. But as the weeks added up from the time we entered the redemption code into the Topps website, he (and I) started to get a little antsy.

Well, I'm happy to say we no longer have to contemplate any worst case scenarios. Late this past week, our package arrived, and inside was this magnificent Kaline-Cabrera dual auto. This is easily one of the best hits I've ever pulled. While I still remain a set collector at heart, if I land a few more hits like this, my heart may start to look yonder.

 

The Bison is Back!

After a two-month stint on the DL, Matt Kemp finally rejoined the starting lineup last night, and he did so in style, going 4-4 with two doubles and three RBIs. A healthy Kemp completely changes the complexion of the Dodger lineup, making it one of the most formidable in the Majors. If he can remain on his feet, the Dodgers' chances at securing their first World Series title in a quarter century increase exponentially. So Matty, please stay healthy.

So in honor of the Bison's majestic return, here are a couple of retro cards I made of Matt Kemp a while ago. Enjoy!

 

 

The Quest for the Lost Rautzhan

During the summer of 1978, my pursuit of a complete Dodger team set began as enthusiastic, soon became frantic, transitioned to obsessive, and ended in despair. I had no trouble obtaining most of the Boys in Blue like Steve Garvey, Ron Cey, Don Sutton, Dusty Baker, Manny Mota, etc. But after ripping open pack after pack, two cards continued to elude me: Reggie Smith and Lance Rautzhan.

Since Reggie Smith was one of the Dodgers' top performers, he was a known commodity to me. As for Lance Rautzhan, I had no clue who he was. But his card (#709) was on the Dodgers' checklist. So that alone lent it great relevance in my eyes.

Near the end of the summer, I finally pulled a Reggie Smith from a pack (as I described in a prior post, that was a day of elation for me), leaving Mr. Rautzhan's as the only unchecked box on my Dodger checklist. But as the lazy days of summer came to an end and the onset of fall was nigh, the supply of 1978 Topps baseball cards on the shelves of Seven-Elevens and other convenience stores and pharmacies began to dwindle until they had been completely replaced with that season's football cards.

This was many years before sports card shops were common fixtures in the community. So once the packs of a particular series disappeared from stores, the only hope for plugging holes in your collection was to trade with someone who had the card you wanted. Which worked great ... when you could find the card. The problem was, no one had Lance Rautzhan. Friends, cousins, new move-ins, basically anyone with even a rudimentary collection I would arrange trades with in my increasingly desperate search for #709. I would have happily traded a George Brett, a Robin Yount, or an Eddie Murray rookie for the now-mythical Lance Rautzhan card. But notwithstanding my persistence, this coveted piece of cardboard remained unobtainable.

For years, its absence from my collection stuck out like a sore thumb, and I'd begun to question whether it even existed. Then in 1983, a baseball card shop (aptly named The Baseball Card Shop) opened nearby, and suddenly, my mission to find the Rautzhan no longer seemed so futile. I got my older sister to drive me there soon after its grand opening. As I entered the store, I took a moment to soak up the surroundings. I had never seen anything like it. Cards were everything: on the wall, behind glass display cases, in dozens of albums, in stacks of boxes. This was heaven!

I walked up to the shopkeeper to ask where I could find the 1978 Topps baseball singles. He went over to the shelves, pulled down an 800-count white cardboard box, and handed it to me. I opened the lid, and with a sense of anticipation that had long been simmering, I zealously began flipping through the cards. As I neared the 700s, my excitement became palpable. The Quest for the Lost Rautzhan was nearly complete!

Finally, I got to #709. I had long wondered what this long sought-after card would look like. I can't remember what I was expecting (perhaps for beams of sunlight to warmly shine down on me or to hear heavenly choirs break out into song?), but I was a little taken aback when I saw that it was a 4-in-1 rookie card. But while it seemed somewhat anticlimactic that the object for which I had searched so diligently for so many years wasn't a stand-alone Lance Rautzhan card, I felt a tremendous sense of relief that I had finally achieved closure with respect to my '78 Dodgers set.

Looking back on my pursuit, I find it rather amusing that I invested so much time, effort, and energy into obtaining the card of a journeyman reliever whose modest career lasted less than three seasons. But such is the mindset of an avid card collector. Woody Gelman, the creative force behind Topps cards back during its heyday, once tried to explain what compels one to collect: "Part of collecting is the desire to complete something, to find everything in one category." He couldn't have explained any better what had driven me for so many years to find that elusive Lance Rautzhan.

As a postscript, it's a rather remarkable coincidence that Lance Rautzhan's career intersects with the name of this blog, for it was Rautzhan who recorded the final out in the bottom of 8th inning in Game 3 of the '77 NLCS, meaning that—following the heroics of of Vic Davalillo and Manny Mota and others in the 9th—Lance Rautzhan picked up the win in one of the most meaningful games in Dodger history. Funny how interconnected things are, isn't it?

 

Top 5: Reggie Smith Cards

Though Steve Garvey, Ron Cey, and Don Sutton received the lion's share of attention, no one wearing Dodger Blue during the late '70s-early '80s was more valuable to the team than Reggie Smith. Blessed with tremendous raw power, an advanced knowledge of the strike zone, and a cannon for an arm, Reggie was a critical part of three pennant-winning Dodger squads (the last of which—the '81 team—won the World Series). In 1977, Reggie led the NL in OPS (1.003) and finished fourth in the MVP balloting; he slotted fourth in the MVP chase the following year as well. And of the many great Dodgers of that era, Reggie was always my personal favorite.

Without further ado, here are my five favorite Reggie Smith cards.

5.

Great shot of Reggie (sans batting gloves) looking like he's about to unload on the next pitch he sees. This was from Donruss's inaugural set, which I always felt was a solid and somewhat underrated one.

4.

Reggie always cut an imposing figure in the batter's box. Here he is in the load phase of his swing, ready to launch one into the left field pavilion.

3.

Reggie was named to 3 All-Star teams during his time with the Dodgers. However, this was his only card with the All-Star designation. That alone makes his '81 Topps card a worthy addition to this list.

2.

1978 was the year I became a full-on baseball card junkie, and I was obsessed with getting a complete Dodger set. This Reggie Smith was one of the final two cards I needed. I don't think I've ever been more excited to pull a card from a pack than when I opened up the wax wrapper to find this card on top. It was like Christmas, the Fourth of July, and your first kiss all in one.

1.

Reggie Smith's 1977 card perfectly captures his potent swing and formidable strength. The stiff front leg; straight line from his head down to his back knee; maximum extension—picture perfect mechanics. I always imagined that this swing resulted in him depositing the pitch in the opponent's bullpen behind the right field fence at Dodger Stadium. This was Reggie's first card with the Dodgers, and it was his best.

Bonus: Best Non-Dodger Card

There's only one thing that needs to be said about this card: Bad-A** sideburns.

That concludes this blog's inaugural top 5 list. It won't be the last.

 

Rookie Trophy vs. Rookie Cup

THE GREAT DEBATE

 

vs.

 

In 1960, Topps began recognizing the top newcomers from the previous season with cards that, in addition to recognizing them as All-Star Rookies, included a graphic of a golden trophy. The trophy, whose design was further refined in the 1961 set, was a rather elaborate multi-tiered graphic: a golden statuette of a slugger completing his swing standing atop a decorative pedestal that, in turn, rested upon a block base bearing the words "TOPPS [YEAR] ALL-STAR ROOKIE." The impressive-looking and prominently sized rookie trophy added real cachet to every card on which it was featured (my personal favorite is Bill Buckner's 1972 card) and continued to be a fixture in Topps sets for over a decade.

Then in 1973, Topps for some reason swapped the trophy for a decidedly less-than-regal bronze cup situated on a rectangular base, which, unlike the trophy, omitted the year. And also unlike the trophy, the cup bears no decorative flourishes, which makes it rather ... blah. The rookie cup has undergone some minor cosmetic changes over the years, but it has remained the signifier for all-rookie performers since it's introduction four decades ago (though Topps' use of the cup has been somewhat inconsistent from set to set).

I wonder why Topps decided to make the change. Was it because the rookie trophy seemed overly ostentatious relative to the achievement being recognized? (Admittedly, being named to the all-rookie team, while not to be scoffed at, is hardly on par with being deemed all-league.). Or was the trophy graphic considered too busy, in contrast to the relative simplicity of the cup? Whatever the reason, the cup won out over the trophy, much to my chagrin. I don't mean to bag on the rookie cup, which is okay in its own way. It's just that the cup is clearly inferior to the trophy.

To Topps' credit, however, it revived the rookie trophy for its Heritage sets, and it also included the trophy in the 2011 Lineage set. So for the partisans of the majestic rookie trophy (maybe just me), we can celebrate the fact that it has found new life.

Check out Wrigley Wax for an excellent chronology regarding the Topps rookie trophy and cup.

 

Set Review: 2013 Topps Allen & Ginter

"Eclectic" seems to be the word most often used to describe a set of Allen & Ginter cards. And for good reason: any set that, in addition to current and former baseball greats, features golfers, skiers, boxers, gymnasts, standup comedians, super models, TV stars, game show hosts, reggae singers, metal rockers, the Pope, and Abe Vigoda, among others, is not your run-of-the-mill assortment of cardboard. And that's just the base set. Things really kick into high gear (or go completely off the rails, depending on your perspective) once you get into the insert sets. But before spilling too much ink about this year's set, let's first back up and provide a little more context.

Allen & Ginter was a Richmond, Va.-based tobacco company that issued a number of famous card sets in the late 1880s. Known for its attractive hand-painted images and diversity of subjects (which included the likes of Buffalo Bill, Annie Oakley, and assorted pugilists, wrestlers, and other sportsmen to go along with baseball players like Cap Anson), original Allen & Ginter cards have become widely admired and highly sought after. Then beginning in 2006, well over a century after the long-since defunct tobacco company released its last set, Topps started issuing sets under the Allen & Ginter name, adopting both the visual style and grab-bag approach of its late 19th century predecessor. It didn't take long for Allen & Ginter to become one of the most popular sets in the card universe, and the suspense as to which out-of-left field personalities and oddball insert sets will be included in the latest release has become part of the set's appeal.

The 2013 Allen & Ginter set was released last month, and it definitely doesn't disappoint. The set consist of 350 base cards, the last 50 of which are short prints (1 per 2 packs). The hand-painted images are, as always, pleasing to the eye, and the sturdy card stock further enhances the attractiveness of the product (and makes them ideal items for autographing). Each base card also has a mini parallel (seeded 1 per pack) that's sized the same as the original tobacco cards. The checklist includes most of the top-tier of current MLB players as well as heroes from yesteryear like Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Willie Mays, Roberto Clemente, and Johnny Bench. Probably the set's most notable card is Yasiel Puig's, as this is the Cuban phenom's first regularly issued card as a Dodger. But that's just the tip of the iceberg.

The non-baseball inclusions are a hodgepodge of personalities from across the pop culture spectrum. In this set, you'll find Olympic gold medalist skier Lindsay Vonn, Let's Make a Deal host Monty Hall, recent U.S. Open champ Justin Dufner, Adam Richman from Man vs. Food, a tie-dye wearing Bill Walton, hard rockers like Tommy Lee and Henry Rollins, and Pope Francis (but, no, there aren't any relic cards with swatches of a papal vestment—about the only thing not in this set). Oh, and again, there's Abe Vigoda because ... of course there is.

The insert sets are multitudinous (double word score). The most conventional is the Across the Years set—but even it has its quirks. It's a 100-card set featuring current and former baseball greats. Pretty straightforward, right? Well, on the back of each card, you learn of an off-the-wall event that occurred the same day the player was born. For instance, I bet you didn't know that on the day Jose Bautista was born, a man named Steve McPeak peddled a 101-foot unicycle or that Cal Ripken's birthday coincided with the lowest temperature ever recorded (minus 127 degrees in Vostok, Antarctica).

From there, things only get more interesting. Here's a sampling of the other insert sets one can collect:

• Civilizations of Ages Past—Featuring cards documenting great ancient nations such as the Mesopotamians, the Mayans, the Vikings, and other bygone societies you've long since forgotten since 10th grade world civilizations class.

• Heavy Hangs the Head—"... that wears the crown," wrote William Shakespeare. Yet I'm sure ol' Bill would agree that the leadership burdens borne by Alexander the Great, Tutankhamun, and Julius Caesar, to name a few from this set, would have seemed much lighter had they realized that someday their historic feats would be memorialized on trading cards.

• Martial Mastery—The bellicose among you will be rewarded with a set documenting the military skill of certain groups like the Spartans, the Samurai, and the Zulus.

• One Little Corner—For all you astronomy buffs who feel that the planets in our solar system have been unfairly slighted by card companies in the past, well, your ship has finally come in.

• Inquiring Minds—Finally, a set (featuring the likes of Aristotle, Kant, and Nietzsche) for philosophy majors who love collecting cardboard. (The Venn Diagram of the overlap between philosophy majors and sports card collectors would show that the intersection consists of ... pretty much just me.)

Can you detect the logical thread that runs through these various sets? Yeah, neither can I. But that random quality is part of Allen & Ginter's charm.

And I'm just scratching the surface. For a full listing of the parallels, inserts, autographs, relic cards (including one with JFK's hairs), variations, rip cards, silks, box loaders, etc. in this year's Allen & Ginter set, visit the Cardboard Connection.

One final note: this is an ideal product for those just getting back into the hobby. I recently bought an Allen & Ginter box to open with my two younger brothers as well as a cousin who had been my main card-trading partner back when we were elementary school kids in the late '70s. Neither my brothers nor my cousin have collected in two decades. Yet they had an absolute blast ripping open the box. The mix of the old and familiar with the fresh and new (and eccentric) made this a very easy product for reacquainting oneself with the joys of opening packs of cards.

As you can tell by now, I'm a fan of Allen & Ginter cards in general and this set in particular. While not cheap, the product isn't cost-prohibitive either: a hobby box consisting of 24 packs (8 cards per pack) and containing three "hits" can be had for around $80. So taking everything into account—design, quality, variety, content, price—I give the 2013 Topps Allen & Ginter set a solid rating of:

★★★★ ½

 

More From CSA

Here are a few more of my finds at the most recent Collector's Showcase of America show.

 

I picked up this 1960 Topps card of a fresh-faced Don Drysdale for a buck or two out of a bargain bin. There's some wear and tear, no question. But overall, that's a nice card of Big D.

This was the last card I needed to complete my '73 Topps Dodgers team set (HIGH FIVE). It always throws me for a loop to see Davey Lopes sans mustache. In his heyday during the '70s and '80s, no one in the game could surpass the Dodger team captain in terms of mustache supremacy. Those upper-lip whiskers were a force of nature. And let's not forget he was a heck of a ballplayer as well.

I snagged this Carl Erskine for a song. It's a little odd to see a card with a pink border. But it's still a nice piece of cardboard of a classic Dodger.

After meeting Mr. Howard and getting his autograph, I made a point adding a few more of his Dodger cards to my collection. This '62 Topps was my favorite (gotta love the faux wood grain border, which looks like the paneling in my grandma's basement.)

 

What was Davalillo's Bunt?

To lifelong diehard Dodger fans, the significance of this blog's title will be readily apparent. But there are bound to be many visitors to this site who won't be as intimately acquainted with the events that took place 36 years that inspired this site's name. So let's flash back to Game 3 of the 1977 National League Championship Series between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Philadelphia Phillies. The teams split the first two games in the best-of-five series. Thus, Game 3 loomed as a pivotal contest.

To further set the scene, I was 7-years-old at the time, and 1977 had been the year I came of age as a Dodger fan. Sure, I had watched parts of games with my dad in prior seasons and was familiar with players like Steve Garvey, Ron Cey, and Don Sutton; but I hadn't yet developed the attention span to follow a full game, let alone the ebb and flow of an entire season. But that all changed in 1977. I began examining box scores and divisional standings each day in the newspaper like a rabbinical student analyzing the Talmud. Anytime the Dodgers were featured on the NBC Game of the Week or ABC's Monday Night Baseball, I was sure to be glued to the tube. And I remember many a night where I (with my Dodger baseball cards in hand) and my dad would sit around his vintage GE portable radio (complete with faux leather case) listening to static-filled broadcasts of Dodger games wonderfully narrated by the timeless Vin Scully. So to say that I was fully invested in the Dodgers' postseason fortunes in 1977 would be a dramatic understatement.

Game 3 was played on a Friday afternoon. Normally, I would have been seated in Ms. Starling's 2nd grade class at that time of day. But because of an annual 2-day conference that all teachers were attending, school was not in session that day, and I was free to watch my beloved Dodgers live on our old Sanyo television. The game started out well enough for the Boys in Blue, as they jumped out to an early 2-0 lead in the top of the 2nd inning. However, in the bottom half of the frame, the wheels quickly came off the Dodgers' wagon. With runners on 1st and 2nd and two outs, Dodger starter Burt Hooton suddenly lost his command and his cool, walking four consecutive batters. LA now trailed 3-2.

The Dodgers later evened the score, but two Phillie runs in the bottom of the 8th left the Dodgers staring at a 5-3 deficit—and a possible 2-1 series hole—as they came up to bat in the top of the 9th. Philadelphia closer Gene Garber (he of the funky windup) quickly disposed of the first two LA hitters in the inning, and the Dodgers were now down to their final out. Tommy Lasorda, in his first year managing the denizens of Chavez Ravine, called on 41-year-old Vic Davalillo to pinch hit for catcher Steve Yeager.

Davalillo was a well-traveled veteran who had been playing in the Mexican League since the end of the '74 season when the Dodgers signed him in August of '77. The diminutive Davalillo (5' 7"/150 lbs.) made his mark with the team during the final two months of the regular season, hitting a solid .313 as a pinch hitter and reserve utility man. And now he was being called on to somehow, someway be the catalyst of a two-out rally. To millions of Dodger fans, Vic was Obi-Wan Kenobi to our Princess Leia ("Help me, Vic Davalillo, you're our only hope.")

So with the weight of the Dodgers' postseason dreams resting on his slight shoulders, Davalillo stepped into the batter's box. He quickly fell behind 0-1 in the count. Garber then went into his windup and flung a sinker towards Phillie catcher Bob Boone's mitt. Davalillo then did something that caught everyone flat-footed—the announcers, the viewing audience, and most importantly, the Phillie infield. He laid down a perfect drag bunt and then raced down the first baseline for an infield single. The Dodgers had a runner on base, and suddenly, I and Dodger fans everywhere had hope! And though it traveled only a few feet, Davalillo's bunt set into motion a series of events that still remain some of the most memorable in Dodger history.

Pinch hitter extraordinaire Manny Mota (about whom I could write volumes) was up next, and he smashed an 0-2 pitched deep into left field that Phillie outfielder Greg Luzinski was unable to handle. An error on the throw back into the infield allowed Davalillo to score from first and Mota to advance to third. The Dodgers now trailed by only one. The next batter, Davey Lopes, hit a screamer towards third baseman Mike Schmidt, who was about as sure-handed a third baseman as there was in the game and who in '77 had won the second of 10 career Gold Gloves. However, Lopes's hot grounder hit a seam in the Veteran Stadium astroturf, causing the ball to glance off the heel of Schmidt's glove and ricochet towards shortstop Larry Bowa. As the fleet-footed Lopes sped down the first baseline and Mota towards home, Bowa brilliantly, in one motion, barehanded the deflected ball and fired it to first. The ball reached first baseman Richie Hebner's glove right as Lopes's foot hit the bag. The Dodger dugout (and me, at home) erupted with joy when the first base umpire signaled safe.

The score was now 5-5. An errant pickoff throw by Garber enabled Lopes to take second base. Then, when Dodger shortstop Bill Russell laced a groundball single up middle to drive in Davey, the Dodger comeback was complete. A devastated Phillies squad went down quietly in the bottom of the 9th. And the next day, the Dodgers seized the pennant with a 4-1 win.

The Dodgers' Game 3 win was magical to me. To my eyes, it signaled that providence smiled kindly upon the Boys in Blue, and that Tommy Lasorda was right: there really was a Great Dodger in the Sky. I was on Cloud Nine the rest of the day. (Or was it Cloud Eight, since I was such a big Reggie Smith fan?) Hard experience would soon teach me that being a Dodger fan hardly immunized me from frustration and heartache; just 11 days later, Reggie Jackson's 3-homer performance against thei Dodgers in Game 6 of the Fall Classic sealed the World Series title for the New York Yankees, which reduced me to tears. Nevertheless, Game 3 taught me that, sometimes, hope gets rewarded—though perhaps not as often as we'd like. It's a good lesson to remember. But I might not have learned it if not for Davalillo's bunt.

 

Meeting the Capital Punisher

My personal highlight from the July CSA show was meeting baseball great Frank Howard. Though he spent the bulk of his career with the Washington Senators, where he earned the apt nickname The Capital Punisher, Howard had a number of stellar years with the Dodgers—winning Rookie of the Year honors in 1960 and helping Los Angeles sweep the New York Yankees in the 1963 World Series. In the fourth and deciding game of that series, Howard collected the Dodgers' only two hits of the game, including a monstrous solo home run. That would be the only offense the Boys in Blue would need, as Sandy Koufax shut down the Bronx Bombers, yielding just one run on six hits.  

Frank couldn't have been more gracious, sharing stories about playing in the L.A. Coliseum and happily agreeing to any and all picture requests. For me, he signed both a giant 1964 Topps card as well as a baseball, on which he inscribed, "1963 W.S. Champs - L.A. Dodgers."  Two great autographs. 

I hope Frank comes to future CSA shows. I have plenty more Dodger items on which I'd love to have his signature.