Napoleon Calzado, 2002 Topps Heritage #347

I can find at least three things wrong with this card:

-Napoleon Calzado's first name is misspelled. I guess somebody at Topps doesn't know their French history.

-The card back lists his date of birth as February 9, 1980. According to Baseball Reference, he was actually born on that date in 1977. I assume that he was one of several Dominican players who was later found to have falsified his age so that he would be more desirable as an amateur free agent.

-The photo filter Topps used to give this card a "retro" feel has turned Napoleon into some sort of demented-looking Muppet.

Sidney Ponson, 2002 Topps Heritage #237

I had the pleasure of being present for the Orioles' first loss of the season last night, as Justin Verlander mostly chewed up our hitters and spit them back out. Derrek Lee did hit his first home run in an O's uniform, so there was briefly something to cheer. No reason to panic after one lackluster game, although it felt kind of lousy to be sitting in an empty section of the upper deck when the team was riding a four-game winning streak and playing only their second home game of the year. I guess they've still got a little work to do to win back most of Charm City.

Even though Brad Bergesen took his lumps last night, and Chris Tillman was just as shaky tonight, the Oriole pitching staff is still light years away from the dark days of the last decade. This club is equipped with several young, affordable, talented young moundsmen, and national baseball writers and scouts agree. This isn't just Syd Thrift or Jim Duquette blowing smoke.

Earlier this week I came across a blog post by William Tasker of The Flagrant Fan that sought to list the Seven Worst Starting Pitchers Ever. Before I even read about the criteria (200 career starts, an ERA+ of 90 or less, an ERA of at least 4.90), I expected to see a few familiar names, but the results were still a bit startling. Four of the not-so-magnificent seven spent some time in Baltimore, with the notorious Sir Sidney Ponson weighing in at number seven with his 91-113 W-L record, 5.03 ERA, 1.48 WHIP, and 90 ERA+. The other black and orange shlubs:

#6 was Jason Johnson, whose five years here felt like ten. He actually had a couple decent seasons in Baltimore, but when he was bad he was really bad. Take his 2000 season, when he went 1-10 with a 7.02 ERA. He hung around the majors for 11 years, chalking up a staggering 56-100 record with a 4.99 ERA, 1.49 WHIP, and 89 ERA+.

#3 was Adam Eaton, who employed a scorched-earth approach to his eight starts for the Orioles in 2009. He won two of them, which tells you all you need to know about the usefulness of wins as a statistic. The brutal details: 2-5, 8.56 ERA (that's 39 ER in 41 IP), 1.83 WHIP, 54 ERA+. By comparison, his overall stats of 71-68, 4.94 ERA, 1.44 WHIP, 84 ERA+ look downright reasonable. Of course, he had the good fortune of pitching in San Diego for much of his career. Imagine the horror otherwise.

At #2 we have Jimmy Haynes, a once-touted prospect who the Birds had the good sense to deal when he still had some value. After tantalizing fans with a 2.25 ERA and a pair of wins in a four-game cup of coffee in September 1995, he was dreadful in 26 games in 1996. How dreadful? How about 122 hits and 58 walks in 89 innings (2.02 WHIP)? 82 earned runs in 89 innings (8.29 ERA, 60 ERA+)? The following June he was traded to the Athletics for DH Geronimo Berroa, who hit .260 with 10 home runs in half a season with the O's. Haynes stuck around for parts of 10 seasons, posting a 63-89 record (which includes a 15-10 mark with the 2002 Reds), 5.37 ERA, 1.63 WHIP, and 83 ERA+.

Woof. Let's keep those guys and all of their meatballing brethren in the rear view, hmm?

David Segui, 2002 Topps Heritage #254

Like many collectors, I'm a sucker for retro-designed cards, especially the Topps Heritage series. But as aesthetically pleasing as these cards are, they've still got nothing on the real thing. If you don't know what I mean, just sit tight for a little show and tell.

Last Friday, I was in Laurel, MD for my good friend (and former roommate) Mikey's wedding rehearsal. We had to meet at the church at 7:00 PM, and I didn't want to chance being late, so I came straight from work. As a result, I was 45 minutes early. As luck would have it, the church was a few blocks away from Sports Card Heroes, a hobby shop that I frequented when I used to take the train from Laurel to Washington D.C. for work. With the recent news of Topps' exclusive licensing deal with MLB fresh in my mind, I was feeling a little current-day card fatigue, so I made a beeline for the vintage baseball card display case. I noticed a small box of 1952 and 1953 Topps, so I asked the owner to let me have a look. Most of the cards were in well-used condition, and were reasonably affordable ($75 and below, if I recall correctly). The owner informed me that they were all 30% off of the marked price, which was music to my ears. I did a little crack math in my head, and nabbed the following four cards for about $12. Not too shabby!
First up is George Zuverink, 1952 Topps #199. I only had one card from this famed set (Phillies outfielder and fellow Washington College product Bill "Swish" Nicholson), and this one is a great addition. I specifically chose it because George was a reliable reliever for the Orioles later in his career, posting a 3.07 ERA with the team and collecting 23 wins and 36 saves from 1955-1959. As the icing on top of the cake, this is his rookie card!
Here we have another future Oriole in Alfonso "Chico" Carrasquel, 1952 Topps #251. He was one of the first of a long line of All-Star shortstops from Venezuela, playing in four Midsummer Classics in total. He played his only season in Baltimore in 1959, batting .223 with 28 RBI in 114 games before calling it a career. Look at that odd signature - his letters seem to slant in the opposite direction!
I've always appreciated the artsy look of the portraits in the 1953 Topps set (which the 2002 Topps Heritage set was patterned after, of course), but I never did get around to adding some of them to my collection until now. They were worth the wait. First is #55, Maurice "Mickey" McDermott. He would peak in 1953, going 18-10 with a 3.01 ERA for Boston. Shane Diaz, who is collecting the 1953 set, has a good summary of McDermott's colorful career on his blog.
Finally, we come to the only man in this quartet that I didn't recognize, #185, Jim Pendleton. This is another rookie card, but Jim wasn't your average rookie. He was a World War II veteran who was signed by the Dodgers in 1949, but found himself stuck behind Pee Wee Reese in the shortstop pecking order. He would hit .299 with the Braves in 1953, only to lose his job the following year to a kid named Hank Aaron. He collected only 369 at-bats between 1954 and 1959, but re-emerged in 1962 as the elder statesman of the brand-new Houston Colt .45s. The 38-year-old hit .246 with a career-high 8 home runs and 46 RBI for the club that would become the Astros before riding off into the sunset.

I know you can get some good deals on vintage cards on eBay, but there's still something satisfying and tangible about buying them from a hobby shop now and again.

Melvin Mora, 2002 Topps Heritage #14

Melvin Mora looks worried. He looks slightly troubled, inquisitive even. He looks like this most of the time, it seems. Sometimes when I'm watching him play, it seems as if he's on the verge of tears. I'm sure that he's not, that that's just how his face looks, but he certainly does have plenty to worry about. Melvin Mora has six children.

Six children.

His daughter Tatiana is eleven, and his quintuplets (two boys and three girls) are seven. I reflect on all of the things that my parents have had to worry about as my sister and I came of age - just two kids. There were broken arms, draconian grade school teachers that sent us home in tears, glasses and braces and broken hearts. There were the melodramatic teenage years, with hair dye and tattoos and all-day rock concerts and co-ed sleepovers. Choosing a college was a monster all its own. One false step, one lapse in judgment, and you're talking about a major impact on a child's immediate - and long-term - future.

Melvin has to worry about all of those things times six. He's had even more to worry about, especially at the beginning with the quintuplets. All of them weighed 33 ounces or less at birth, and there was surely a great deal of uncertainty pertaining to their survival. The Orioles' then-utility player spent the second half of the 2001 season running back and forth between the ballpark and the hospital, keeping close watch over his kids. In fact, when the babies were three months old, Melvin himself had to save daughter Jada's life with CPR. I can't imagine the stress and fear involved in being singlehandedly responsible for the survival of your child.

So really, you can't blame Melvin Mora if he looks concerned. Though the children are all now healthy and thriving, he certainly has his hands full, now and for several years to come.