A View From the Bima
An All-Star Break Edition
Mint Condition
For Father’s Day I received a book written by a young journalist, Dave Jamieson. On the back flap where you find his picture and a bio, it reads, “He lives in Washington, DC, with a closetful of worthless baseball cards, all of them in excellent condition.” His book is a historical perspective on “How Baseball Cards Became an American Obsession.” I am grateful that I am not alone in what my wife calls an obsession and my kids label a compulsion. I feel a lot more comfortable on my notable birthday this July in knowing that I am joined by thousands of middle aged men who are attempting to relive their youth by pursuing something that brought many of us hours of satisfaction in our younger days.
We recall the days when we took the spare change that our parents gave us as an allowance and plucked it down on the counter of the local corner store to buy our fix of wax packs with the stale gum and baseball cards inside. What delight there was in fanning out a new pack of cardboard cards, seeing what treasures were hidden by the colorful wrapping. Sorting through our collection, my friends and I pulled out our doubles to trade with one another. I don’t recall ever flipping my cards. But I do remember taking the cards that I “had no use for” and clip them to the front part of my bicycle to create a motor-like noise as it passed through the metal spokes of the tire.
I take this time in the middle of the baseball season to reflect on my obsessive-compulsive behavior, not so much to make amends, but to understand better what it is that drives me to e-bay in search of that next card to add to my collection. I could blame the card industry for my psychological disorder, after having read what Dave Jamieson has unearthed about the business practices behind the selling of baseball cards. They were never meant to be an industry unto themselves. At first, the cards were meant to be an incentive to sell another product, whether it be tobacco in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s or bubble gum in the 1920’s to modern times, or some other product that needed promoting.
In the beginning (in the Big inning) the numbers of cards needed to complete a collection were reasonably small. Kids were able to assemble a full set. As the popularity of collecting grew, and as the profiteering became more prevalent, the numbers of players whose pictures appeared on a card, also, expanded. One company preyed on the kids who collected by purposely omitting a numbered card to force sales. Should any of us be surprised by such business tactics!?! When angry mothers complained to the company, they were forced to produce that one card that was missing.
When the gum was no longer a draw for young (and older) collectors, because the gum stained the cards, card companies searched for another way to entice the sale of packs that had become increasingly more expensive as well over time. Gone was the affordable 25-cent pack!
Along came the insert card in the 1990’s. Following the strike that ended the 1994 season, collectors of baseball cards had become disenchanted along with other die-hard fans. One radio host took suggestions from his audience what they could do to show their disappointment. It was suggested that they burn their baseball cards, their most prized possessions. Even though the suggestion was made, no one could have anticipated the hundreds of thousands of cards that were mailed to the radio station in anticipation of a bonfire to express their anger at the players and management for taking away their summer enjoyment, including the World Series. The fire marshal forced radio host “Papa Joe” Chevalier to use a wood chipper instead to chop up over 500,000 cards, giving the baseball card companies a boost in its wake. It was around this time that Topps introduced the insert card into its packs. One special card that was different from the others, gave buyers and collectors alike the impression that there was a limited amount of these cards in comparison to the “commons.” Of course it appealed to those who were inflicted with the “I gotta have it” malady!
In the second half of the decade, when other companies had challenged the Topps’ monopoly in the card business, other companies such as Fleer and Upper Deck introduced the “memorabilia” card that included an authentic swatch of a game worn jersey or game used bat to spur interest. I recall writing an article in which I shared with others how much I enjoyed owning a piece of history, even if it meant cutting up into tiny pieces a valuable uniform or bat. What would Babe Ruth say if he knew that one of his three remaining jerseys in existence was treated in this manner – distributed in baseball cards over a three year period? I have to admit that next to my vintage cards, the most coveted part of my collection is the game used bat cards of Hank Greenberg that I have acquired in recent years.
I have often been asked, “What is the attraction of your collecting? It’s just cardboard!” I beg to differ. It isn’t just a collection of cardboard. There is something nostalgic about the cards and their history that keeps me looking in an attempt to fill out my collection of Jewish professional baseball players, both major and minor leaguers. Perhaps I am trying to make up for the loss of my original collection of cards as a kid. When our basement was flooded by melting snow, my cards became glued together in the boxes in which they were stored. By some strange coincidence, one of the cards that survived the melt-down was a Topps 1969 Dave Leonhard card, that I had signed personally since he owns the flower shop next to the synagogue.
When I was a kid, I have to admit the allure was in putting together a complete set, especially the Red Sox players. I could never buy enough cards to do what my next door neighbor accomplished every summer. Nevertheless, I enjoyed what I had, dividing them up into teams and actually fill out some of the checklists that were included in the packs that I bought. Since I was collecting primarily in the 1970’s and 1980’s when the number of cards produced sky-rocketed, the value of the cards diminished, and the designs of the cards themselves reflected a change in their aesthetic qualities as well as their appeal, opting for more realistic photographs of the players in place of the artistic drawings of another era. For example, the 1987 Topps card contained a player’s photograph bordered by what looks like the wood paneling in my parents’ basement when I was growing up. It is very similar to the set that was offered in 1962 that had a slightly darker wood paneling! I must admit that it does not have the same charm as the wooden frame that accompanied the 1955 Bowman Cal Abrams card that is a part of my collection, the one that looks like the old wooden cabinet television set in the living room of my childhood home!
Today, I am drawn to the artistry that accompanied the original cards. It seems as though the card manufacturers have caught on to what middle-aged men like me are looking for these days, a throw-back to our youth! This year Topps has issued a card that resembles the Chicle cards of the 1930’s. I have seen on e-bay the sought after artist sketches that have been included in various packs. Topps is, also, auctioning off the original paintings of the players that form this special set. What I find most interesting about this set in particular is that it captures the drama of a player, unlike a photograph that stops the action. In the latter case, you want to see what happens beyond the image captured on cardboard. In the former case, however, your focus remains on the card itself and what the artist wishes to convey to you about this particular sports hero. I bid on the portrait of Kevin Youkilis, but was outbid by $200 by the time bidding was completed!
The most famous collector of cards was Jeffrey Burdick who donated his entire collection to the Metropolitan Museum of Fine Arts. My measly collection of eighteen three ring binders does not compare to the 354 binders that organize his life’s work. What amazes me is that the museum actually displays a small fraction of his collection in an effort to show the artistry of the cardboard card industry and what it represents to the endeavors to bring culture to the general population. Whether it was an artist’s rendering on the 1909-1911 Tobacco cards, or the early photographs that were posed for the old Judge and Zeenut cards of the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, there is a mystery to be unraveled in each image that cannot be matched in the High Definition shots of today’s cards. Is it because we long for more simpler times when baseball was still a game for guys who loved being boys on the sandlot? The cards of today remind me that we live our lives at such a fast pace we feel the need to stop the action, and sometimes replay the action to capture what we missed the first time around. Sometimes, it is better to just let things go the way they were meant to be, and not be forced by the urge to go back.
As I draw a close to my remarks, I think I know why I am enamored by the 2010 National Chicles set by Topps and their artistic renderings. Another important part of my collection is a card that was never issued as part of the original 1933 Diamond Star set. I have card #4 belonging to Charles (Buddy) Myer, of the Senators. He is one of 108 that are a part of this colorful set produced by the National Chicle Co. of Cambridge, Massachusetts went bankrupt before finishing the series in 1936.
In 1993 a couple of young men, devoted themselves to completing the set. Among those missing was #121 Moe Berg of the Boston Red Sox. Having the ability to be a bit more whimsical in their fantasy set, we see Moe Berg in his catcher’s crouch, with the flags of three nations, including Japan as a backdrop. For those who are familiar with this man’s history, Moe Berg, who spoke seventeen languages fluently, spied for the US prior to World War II while playing exhibition baseball in Japan. In the description on the reverse side, “Travis Lake” concludes his short biography of Moe Berg by declaring, “Moe is valued for his ability to remember each batter’s strengths and weaknesses, and he uses that knowledge to help his pitcher and fielders put the man out. Remember that baseball is a game of brains as well as brawn.” For me, this is the meaning and the value of my collection in a peanut shell. For Jews, who have had to endure years of suffering and anti-Semitism, to be accepted for their brawn on the field, as well as their brains, is an achievement to be celebrated.
