The Infield Dirt with T.S. O'Connell

Just like Nettles, this guy is an All-Star ...

T.S. — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 15:24:54 GMT

   As I have noted as number of times, having the opportunity to put a lot of spectacular artwork into the pages of Sports Collectors Digest over the last 15-plus years has been one of many joys connected to my work.

   I’ve never actually elucidated any criteria, but probably should have noted that there are a wide range of variables at play in deciding who merits regular SCD inclusion, not all of which would speak specifically to the quality of an individual’s work. I toss out that somewhat awkward sentence by way of noting that there are a lot of incredible artists who we would have loved to have featured but for any number of reasons haven’t.

http://www.graigkreindler.com/

   Graig Kreindler falls into that category, and the reason he hasn’t been there is the simplest of all: I had never seen the work before. I came across it from a forum thread on the Net54baseball.com site. I am looking forward to putting this stuff into SCD the first chance I get; his work is as spectacular as it is unconventional.

   I say “unconventional” in the good sense, in that it seems to be so unique as to defy easy categorization. I’ll offer this little glimpse here, with hopes (plans, really) to have a more prominent utilization both online and in SCD in coming months. I love this stuff!

   And remember, if you go looking for him in cyberspace, his name is Graig, as in Nettles, not Craig, as in list. Makes a big difference.

   I am also hoping to get to meet the artist at the National Convention in Cleveland in a couple of weeks, where he will be set up. I’ve got a feeling that his workload is going to increase dramatically in coming months, whether it’s from private commissions or if the card company guys rope him into their already-imposing stable of artists.

   Geez, I wish I’d seen his work about a year earlier. I would have loved to have a half-dozen or more of these pieces in the Legendary Yankee Stadium: Memories & Memorabilia from the House That Ruth Built book that we just released.

   How’s that for sneaking in a book plug? Subtle, eh?

Mannys real crime is the way he wears his pants ...

T.S. — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 16:21:51 GMT

   You gotta admit, this is a strange country we live in. In a week when a former secretary of defense who was one of the principal architects of the Vietnam War dies, his passing is barely noted because the media is fixated on the passing of an infinitely more famous (infamous?) pop star.

   In the world of sports, the fourth estate probably suffers from the same curious contradictions, but in least in our world the absurdities don’t always pass unnoticed.

   (Lou Gehrig is pictured at left in an incredible pencil drawing by Nathalie Rattner – nrattner@shaw.ca.)

Keith Olbermann, hobbyist, columnist and MSNBC anchor, and another baseball broadcaster, Tim McCarver, both pointed out the grotesque juxtaposition of MLB’s honoring Lou Gehrig on the 70th anniversary of his “luckiest man on the face of the Earth” speech on the same day that Manny Ramirez made his, dare I say it, triumphant return after serving a 50-game suspension for using some kind of banned female-fertility drug. Don’t ask.

   I applaud both our most-famous columnist and the outspoken McCarver for reminding a wider audience that while we are certainly permitted to display outsized affection and allegiances in directions that would seem to conflict mightily with our vaunted “values,” there will hopefully always be a handful of commentators who will be quick to point it out to us.

   Every time I make an observation like that, I get this vague feeling that I am being dismissed as yet another angry old fart lamenting about how grand everything was way back when. That’s potentially intimidating, if you let it be, which I don’t. Truth is, some things were better 30 years ago than they are now. Probably not everything, but certainly some things.

   I sort of shrug off any potential aggravation from Manny’s exploits simply because he seems to me to be a product of the times. He’s our sports world Frankenstein, and since we made him what he is, I don’t get as mad at him as I otherwise might.

   On the other hand, I don’t forgive him for wearing his pants like that. It’s certainly his choice if he’d rather look like a Good Humor man than a baseball player, but I don’t have to like it.

Spoiled by three decades of NL All-Star dominance ...

T.S. — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 14:30:20 GMT

   When I was a young man, which I suppose could conceivably be thought to include the years between 1968-90, I generally took it as a matter of faith that the National League was superior to the American League. I guess I would trace this prejudice back to when I was a young boy, say 1960 or so, when I would watch the All-Star Game(s) with a rapture and enthusiasm that I’ve had difficulty replicating with the passage of time.

   (Since there's a rather pronounced fantasy element to the All-Star Game, illustrating it with a fantasy card "That Never Was" seem like a good idea. Famed graphic designer Keith Conforti took care of that nicely with the ersatz 1960 Topps All-Star card shown here.)

The reason I used the plural contrivance “All-Star Game(s)” is because my first recollection of watching the game on television was when they were playing two games every summer, first two days apart and then more than a week separating them.

   I was already a National League fan, thanks to Henry Aaron and the Milwaukee Braves, but once I started genuflecting in front of the flickering black-and-white television images in mid-July, the allegiance expanded to encompass the entire league.

   And so for the next 25 years, by which time I would be 35 years old and technically no longer a “young man,” I had to suffer through the indignity of watching my guys lose seven games. In 25 years! And despite the rarity, I still regarded it as an affront when those other guys won.

   Actually, one of those seven I didn’t get to watch, since I was on an aircraft carrier in the Gulf of Tonkin off the coast of Viet Nam in 1971. Ironically, Aaron hit a home run in that one and so I didn’t get to see it, either.

   But other than that it’s probably fair to say I got a little spoiled over that span. I used to have a standing $50 bet with a guy I knew from my college days, a tavern owner, and as I recall I collected on that nine years in a row until I moved from New York State to Delaware in 1983. We suspended the bet, and the American League promptly won.

   And now a couple of the younger fellas here at the office reminded me today that the National League hasn’t won an All-Star Game in the last 12 tries. That peculiar language is employed because my guys haven’t lost 12 in a row; the 2002 version ended in a tie.

   That was also the last one I’ve been at. Probably just a coincidence.

Topps National Convention cards look sensational ...

T.S. — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 15:00:19 GMT

   For a company that used to give short shrift to its heritage, seeing the transformation of the Topps mentality over the past 25 years has been nothing short of refreshing.

   Ours is a hobby based on yesterday; Topps was quite reasonably a business based on today and maybe tomorrow. Back in the late 1980s, I used to be startled that inquiring to Topps officials about their vintage stuff used to elicit a kind of bemused indifference. While nobody said so explicitly, the message was that they were in the business of selling that year’s product – and maybe planning next year's. It wasn't active antipathy to the hobby, but merely an acknowledgement of differing priorities.

   The first blip of a change of course came in 1983 with the reprinting of the 1952 Topps set, then it stepped up in the early 1990s with other reprintings. By the time we got to this nifty new millennium, Topps had fully embraced its often glorious past, most lustily with the Heritage Series that has celebrated its early card designs by reviving them in ever-improving detail and nuance.

   And so this year’s Topps National Convention VIP cards (shown here) look like winners once again, with five gems in the 1959 Topps design. I think the Mantle left- and right-handed versions are supposed to be a fun nod to the 1957 Topps Hank Aaron flipped negative, plus there are cards of Roger Maris as a Yankee, Roy Campanella as an honorary Dodgers coach and Jackie Robinson as a New York Giant. That’s just cool all the way around.

   The Campy card looks to me like one of those flexichromes from back then, the colorized black-and-white photographs that looked odd at the time. Robinson as a Giant may give a few people a bit of acid indigestion (he retired rather than accept a trade uptown), but the Maris is just terrific.

   Roger wasn’t a Yankee in 1959; he didn’t arrive in the Bronx until 1960, but it’s fun to imagine if the addition of his name to the lineup card in 1959 might have been enough to propel the Yankees to the pennant that year (probably a stretch, since they ended up 15 game in back of the White Sox). A 1959 pennant would have made it 10 in a row and 15 in 16 years.

   Who knew celebrating yesterday could be so much fun?

Favre is a Viking and Pujols is NOT on the List ...

T.S. — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 13:57:09 GMT

   On the same day that somebody e-mailed this cool picture of Brett Favre in a Minnesota Viking uniform, somebody else posted online what is supposed to be the list of 103 names of PED users from the Mitchell Report. I am able to say with some degree of certainty that the reliability quotient for both of these new flashes is identical, roughly zero.

   Speculating about Favre unretiring again and going to the Vikings strikes me as reasonably good, clean fun, since it presumably hurts no one, save for a few thousand Packer fans who have to reach for an antacid every time the very idea of Brett wearing purple gets floated.

   But the List is another matter (I capitalize “List” because I suspect that when all is said and done it’s going to be a proper noun). I can’t pretend I was surprised when I learned the unofficial list was posted online; that should have been expected.

   I am, however, old fashioned enough to insist that it’s just plain wrong that it’s been done. I can’t tell you how anguished I would be if I played any role in tarnishing somebody’s good name in that fashion. The fact that so many in cyberville don’t see anything wrong with it points to serious flaws either in the fundamental underpinnings of the online world or similarly egregious gaps in the ethics training of the individuals involved, or more likely, both.

   I know that the List is going to be “outed” one of these days; hell, it’s a miracle that it hasn’t happened yet. And even when that takes place, it’s going to be nearly as deplorable an ethical violation as the unofficial outing(s). But until that day comes, I won’t be a party to pushing forth any of the names into the public square. Not gonna do it.

   The only concession I’ll make to such boiler-room nonsense is to point out that one Albert Pujols is not on the online version. But there are so many major stars and otherwise likely Hall of Famers on it that offering a big sigh of relief about Albert’s exclusion would seem to be damning with faint praise. If/when the List gets out – and assuming it looks anything at all like the unofficial ones – taking note that the greatest star of his generation is not among the names is going to be small consolation.

   But I will be willing to dish about the idea of Favre being a Viking, but I’ll save it for another day. I just wanted an excuse to run that cool picture.

Looking for 1975 Minis at the National in Cleveland ...

T.S. — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 14:46:00 GMT

   I gotta tell you, I was absolutely fascinated by the idea of Robert Edward Auctions selling so many unopened cases of 1975 Topps Minis in the auction this spring. Pioneering collector Charlie Conlon had all but cornered the market on those colorful little hosers 30-plus years ago, so when REA ended up with the Conlon Estate, I was intrigued by the prospect of 26 cases of something so cool selling all at one time.

   Now that they are all sold, I am just as enthused about seeing precisely how these gems end up being dispersed in the hobby. The 26 cases sold for more than $300,000 in that REA sale a couple of months ago, so they ain't gonna be cheap. I assume some are going to turn up at the National Convention in a few weeks in Cleveland, and I’ll let you know how that goes.

   I vividly remember the last time I saw a pile of unopened 1975 Topps, I suppose it was about 25 years ago at one of Bob Schmierer’s Music Pier shows in Ocean City, N.J., when Alan “Mr. Mint” Rosen had a big pile of them at that unique show.

   I say unique without much fear of being accused of hyperbole; the show was held at this marvelous “Music Pier” over the Atlantic Ocean, making it just about the coolest place I’ve ever set up at for a card show.

   With Brett and Yount rookies smokin’ hot at the time, Rosen was hawking the packs with a zeal and efficiency that electrified the room. It was the kind of stuff that makes old geezers like me long for the hobby’s giddy heyday, and if any of that frothy pandemonium can be re-created this summer in Cleveland, I hope I am on hand to see it. Even without the cool breeze of the Atlantic Ocean.

Aaron smelled something fishy even 10 years ago ...

T.S. — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 15:28:26 GMT

   Nobody has been any classier about discussing the odd surge in home runs that took place during the steroids era than the guy who took the biggest hit, in a manner of speaking, from that curious period.

   After the news about Sammy Sosa’s name appearing on that infamous “List” of those who tested positive for PED’s in 2003, I looked back at an interview I did with Henry Aaron 10 years ago as Major League Baseball was celebrating the 25th anniversary of Aaron’s passing Babe Ruth on the all-time home run charts.

   Ever gracious, there were still little hints that The Hammer knew something was out of whack back then. “The game is watered down a bit. Some players are capable of hitting home runs year-in and year-out, but you’ve also got guys who will hit 10 home runs one year and 40 the next. You’ve got to start thinking, ‘Is it real, or what?’ ”

   Turns out, it wasn’t, but unfortunately the legion of sportwriters and MLB officials who might have been thought to have noticed something amiss just as Aaron did weren’t exactly performing at their peak efficiency.

   One of the other things I was struck by was the realization in 1999 that it was Ken Griffey who was thought to be the likely challenger to Aaron’s record, not Barry Bonds. At the time, Bonds was 36 years old and had 445 home runs, and Griffey was only 47 behind him and was six years his junior, pardon the pun, again.

   I wonder what would have been the response if somebody had predicted that a 36-year-old, even a Hall-of-Fame-bound one, who had hit 37 and 34 home runs in his last two seasons, would add another 317 home runs to his lifetime total from that point on?

   The only thing goofier than Bonds hitting 213 home runs over the four-year span of 2000-2003 was Griffey socking 83 over the same span. Of course, The Kid missed roughly 260 games over than span as he continued a struggle with nagging injuries that has plagued him for virtually the entire second half of his career.

   Gee, if only they had some kind of synthetically created substance that would help athletes recover from injuries more quickly and more effectively.

Tell us about your first National Convention ...

T.S. — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 15:20:10 GMT

   I blogged yesterday about the coming National Convention in Cleveland, noting that every collector finds different things about the annual event that make the return to the next as inevitable as the arrival of the new cards every spring.

   I’d be interested in hearing the readers’ recollections of their first Nationals, or maybe their favorite ones, and would ask that they be sent to my Sports Collectors Digest e-mail address at: thomas.oconnell@fwmedia.com.

   I don’t recall if I even knew about the very first National in Los Angeles beforehand; I was newly married in the early 1980s and wasn’t exactly flush, so the idea of going to LA wouldn’t have even been on the radar screen. The next three were all in the Midwest (Detroit, St. Louis and Chicago), and while I knew about them beforehand from SCD, my job with the Empire State Games meant that there was no time off for much of anything during the summer months,
   But by 1984 I was no longer under the iron grip of New York State employment, I was living in Delaware and actively promoting my fledgling O’Connell & Son Ink mail-order business. Parsippany, N.J., sounded doable.
   I was already on Bob Schmierer’s waiting list for the famed EPSCC Philadelphia Show; I don’t recall if I tried to get my own National table or not. I might not have, since I already had an offer to share table space with a dealer from Florida. Believe it or not, I can’t remember the name of the company, despite the fact that I was extremely grateful that he had provided me the opportunity to get exposure for the O’Connell & Son Ink artwork.

   What a thrill! In the hours leading up to the show’s opening, I met a dozen or more of the hobby pioneers, guys I had only read about from their advertisements in the magazine-sized biweekly Sports Collectors Digest. Biweekly is one of my all-time favorite words, since it means either once every two weeks or twice a week. I would think that if you were talking about getting fed, or waterboarded, for example, it would be fairly important to try to figure out which definition was being employed.

   I do remember there were also a lot of auxiliary events taking place at the hotel in Parsippany, like seminars, exhibits (HOFer’s jerseys, the T206 Wagner, etc.) and even a Strat-O-Matic tournament, but once the show got going, I hardly got to go anywhere at all, because roughly half of the table was mine and I had to stay and man it.

   I remember I had constructed a giant wood display that held I think about 18 plastic frames (8-by-10) of the various prints I was selling at the time, along with the Baseball Greats set (shown) that was my initial entree into the hobby. I am to the art of fine woodworking as Pamela Anderson is to molecular biology, so that particular bit of plywood finery remains as perhaps my finest creation in that arena.

   In doing research after I finished this blog entry (I work in mysterious ways; most writers do the research before they hit the keyboard), I found the National Convention issue of SCD. I had a full-page ad in that Aug. 3, 1984 issue, and a “See You at the National” note included – along with the National logo – near the bottom of the page.
   Turns our, I was at Table B-22, along with The Baseball Card Stores of South Florida. Thanks for everything, even 25 years later.

National excitement is different but still very real ...

T.S. — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 15:07:55 GMT

   I had a neat interview the other day with Mike Berkus, one of the three co-managers of the National Sports Collectors Convention, and one of the elements that came through with great clarity was the reminder that the vast majority of the people involved at that level bring with them a genuine affection and commitment to the hobby.

   In the case of Berkus, easily one of the most articulate hobby spokesmen around, I was struck by the fact that despite the enormity of the National undertaking every summer, he remains a hobby guy at heart. Just like the rest of us, he longs for the anticipation and excitement that has always been a hallmark of the annual event, but unlike us, he’s in a position to have an impact on just how much buzz accompanies each show.

   I thought it was pretty cool when Berkus told me he spent about $3,000 on vintage cards the last time the National found itself at the I-X Center near the Cleveland airport two years ago. If you’ve ever seen Berkus (or co-managers John Broggi and Bob Wilke) during the five-day extravaganza, you’d understand how much of a true hobbyist he would have to be to find time to scout dealer tables during that stretch.

   In the interview, which will appear in the July 17 issue of Sports Collectors Digest and on the www.sportscollectorsdigest.com website, he waxed nostalgic about the passion for collecting that has always been present at the annual event, though he concedes that as each year passes it becomes more of a challenge to find ways to stoke those fires.

   This year, he points to the addition of a new manufacturer, Panini, to the corporate section, a nifty Pepsi Party of a Lifetime promotion and the usual anticipation that surrounds the dozens of cool promotional cards that the card companies create every year just for the show.

   And here’s a dollop from my end: the folks who produce the exotic Sportkings cards (shown here), which are modern versions that brilliantly capture the essence of the 1933 issue of the same name, will unveil their Series C in a couple of weeks in Cleveland.

   I’ll admit I’m biased, since their principal artist, Paul Madden, is a friend and frequent contributor to SCD, but I just love those cards and am looking forward to seeing the next batch.

   Much has changed in the hobby/industry in the three decades that the National Convention has been around, but one underlying thread runs through all those years: collectors find those parts of the hobby that tickle them each and every summer when the big show comes to town.

Winners of the Auravison Records Drawing ...

T.S. — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 13:18:57 GMT

   A couple of months back when we ran a cool two-part feature on the 1960s Auravision Records, we included with the article a couple of paragraphs explaining how collectors could enter to win samples of the 1964 Auravision Records in a random drawing.

   Well, I am a little bit late doing the random drawing part, but better late than never. A number of readers sent in their entries for a chance to win any of the three prizes, and the winners picked out are as follows:

   First Prize (5 records: Rocky Colavito, Frank Robinson, Warren Spahn, Whitey Ford and Pete Ward) – John Wopershall of Youngstown, Ohio

   Second Prize (4 records: Jim Gentile, Ernie Banks, Ward and Robinson) – Jim Newsom of Virginia Beach, Va.

   Third Prize (3 records: Gentile, Ward and Banks) – John Maiorino of Woodhaven, N.Y.

   Congratulations to all three, and, as they say, thanks for playing. We also thank former major leaguer pitcher John Gray, who was featured in the two-part article about the Auravision Records, and donated the dozen records for the drawing.