To Dodger fans of my generation, Steve Garvey was more than just a baseball star; he was a superhero, a demigod, a personification of all that's right and good in the world. Anchoring baseball's most famous infield, Garvey was a hit machine who elevated his game whenever playing on the grandest stages, whether the All-Star Game (he took home two Mid-season Classic MVP awards), the Championship Series, or the World Series. Clean-cut, durable, powerful, clutch—The Garv was idolized by millions of youngsters, myself included.
For this reason, his cards were some of the hottest commodities in circulation. Narrowing down my list of favorite Garvey cards to just five took some doing, but here they are.
5. 1978 Topps
1978 Topps: check. Garvey striking a distinguished pose: check. All Star designation: check. Enough said.
4. 1971 Topps
Obviously shot at the Dodgers' former spring training facility in Vero Beach, FL, a very youthful-looking Steve Garvey makes his baseball card debut in the 1971 Topps set. At the time, Garvey was still a third-base prospect. But his erratic arm led to a shift to first base, which cleared the way for Ron Cey to take over the hot corner. One unusual aspect of this card is the facsimile signature. First of all, it reads, "Steven P. Garvey," rather than the typical "Steve Garvey." But even more odd is that it looks nothing like his later signature (see the 1977 card below for a comparison). Now I suppose it's possible that Mr. Clean completely reconfigured his signature once he became a full-time big leaguer. But my guess is that Topps hadn't yet gotten the rookie's signature and instead just had some office flunky sign it. Either way, it's a terrific card
3. 1977 Topps
1977 Topps is a very underrated set in my opinion. Its design—plain white border, team name in colored block letters—is very simple. But that works to its advantage, placing more focus on the images—smart move, considering that the 1977 set consists of a larger-than-usual number of action shots. Here, the four-time Gold Glover is poised to spring into action as soon as the ball is put in play. And of course, the card indicates Garvey's All Star status—always appreciated. Nice card.
2. 1972 Topps
This card represents the unusual case where a famous player's most valuable card isn't his rookie. Released as part of the rare sixth (and final) series of the 1972 Topps set, a mint condition '72 Garvey can fetch over $200. For this reason, it was my most sought-after Garvey card and was the last of His Topps cards that I acquired. And there's no denying that this card is a gem.
The 1972 Topps set is my all-time favorite, what with the elaborate, colorful borders; the psychedelic hand-crafted lettering; the vibrant photo colors; and the surfeit of all-time greats (e.g, Aaron, Clemente, Mays, Killebrew, Robinson) and valuable rookies (e.g., Carlton Fisk/Cecil Cooper, Ron Cey). Garvey's card—showing a young Mr. Clean following through on a practice swing—is unquestionably one of the set's highlights.
1. 1974 Topps
Res ipsa loquitur—"the thing speaks for itself."
I learned this Latin phrase in grad school, and it perfectly applies to the '74 Topps Garvey. Just one glance reveals its awesomeness, requiring little further explanation. But ... I can't resist adding my own evaluation.
Start with the card's uncommon landscape orientation, which immediately imbues it with a distinctive flair. Then there's the photo of Garvey gracefully striding towards home plate, wielding his bat like a scepter. The coolness of his bearing can't be overstated. Garvey's dignified image is offset against a background of blurred faces, which lends the photo a slightly otherworldly feel. The look is so artistic that it almost looks more like a painting than photograph. Without question, it's one of the greatest pictures ever captured on cardboard.
I would kill to get the original negative of the photo and use it to make a 30" x 40" print to hang on my office wall (or better yet, the living room!). I don't exaggerate when I say this card should someday be on display in the Louvre. (Well, maybe I exaggerate a little, but not much!)
