Cesar Izturis, 2009 Upper Deck O-Pee-Chee #4

This weekend the process of preparing my new home to be suitable for living began in earnest, and I was ridiculously busy/ How busy? So busy that I'm filing Saturday's entry on Sunday night. So busy that I grabbed the first card I saw on top of my desk and scanned it, with no regard for how I could possibly tie Cesar Izturis into all of this. So busy that I'm not going to keep fishing for examples.

Vintage Fridays: Jim Northrup, 1975 SSPC #399

Look at that picture of Jim Northrup for a moment. Stop giggling at the gray perm and just take it all in. It's less a picture than a portrait. So much gravitas. With the silvery hair (he was nicknamed "The Gray Fox", after all), the weary grimace, and the shadowy backdrop that seems to indicate twilight, the 35-year-old outfielder looks for all the world like someone who is ready to call it a day. This it what makes me truly appreciate the SSPC cards, a rogue set from the mid-1970s that was wholly unlike industry giant Topps. The full-color, close-cropped photos somehow exhibited more of a player's personality than Topps' awkward posed shots and often-blurry action pictures of the time. There was no brightly colored, boldly lettered design to distract the eye. The card backs featured the player's uniform number and a detailed biography not unlike the Score sets that came along more than a decade later.

The back of this card actually tells the reader that Northrup retired at the end of the 1974 season, and sums up his career with overall stats and a few highlights (including his grand slams in consecutive innings on June 24, 1968 and his .536 slugging percentage in that year's World Series). It's refreshing to see a solid and mostly unspectacular everyday player, one who topped out at 25 homers and 90 RBI and put up a 116 OPS+ over 12 seasons, get a little recognition for a job well done as he slips out of the active rolls of Major League ballplayers. It gives a real sense of the person beyond those rows of season-by-season numbers.

Sidney Ponson, 2005 Leaf #28

Oh, Sidney Ponson. Your 17th season in professional baseball promises to be the most pointless and perversely entertaining of them all. With spring training in full swing, you've finally latched on to another club. So which franchise was ensnared by your flabby, drunken, petulant siren song? It's probably not one of the six MLB clubs who have previously released you, of course. Let's see here...I just had it...ah yes!

The Long Island Ducks of the independent Atlantic League.

That would be the very same Long Island Ducks who recently employed Jay Gibbons, who is a superstar and a model citizen when compared to the likes of Sir Sidney. A man who has been at home on the mounds of Oriole Park and Yankee Stadium will toe the rubber at Citibank Park, with its robust capacity of 6,002. Somewhat hilariously, his manager will be the glad-handing, smarmy Gary Carter.

If you live in or near any of the Atlantic League outposts - York, Lancaster, Waldorf, Camden, Somerset, Newark, Bridgeport, and Long Island - get your popcorn at the ready. Aruba's Most Wanted is coming.

Tom O'Malley, 1987 Topps #154

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I went and found an O'Malley for you. Tom O'Malley was a star in the minor leagues, struggled in his various trials in the majors, and was an absolute masher in Japan. To my knowledge, he never played in Ireland.

I hope you enjoyed yourself today, no matter what you did and what your heritage may be. I have a history of March 17 adventures; in 2002, I was in Toronto with three of my closest friends enjoying ringside seats at WrestleMania. Three years ago, I escaped an especially late Maryland ice storm, slipping away to Fort Lauderdale with my father to catch a few Orioles spring training games. Tonight wasn't nearly as grandiose as all of that, but it was a fun evening nonetheless. I did a pub crawl in downtown Annapolis with my girlfriend and a friend of ours, and still made it home early enough to collapse into bed at a reasonable hour. But before I wander off to sleep, I'd like to raise a figurative glass of green beer to all of you. Cheers.

Jeff Tackett, 1993 Stadium Club #186

There are a lot of things that I would do if I were independently wealthy and had all of the free time in the world. For one, I would play a lot more Strat-O-Matic baseball.

If you’re reading this blog, there’s a fair chance that you know what I’m talking about. For the uninitiated, S-O-M is the most popular and enduring tabletop baseball game. Founded in 1961, the game is played using cards and dice. Each player in the major leagues has his own card featuring three numbered columns, each with 11 numbered results (walk, single, groundout, etc.). The outcomes are based on that player’s actual performance in the corresponding season; if you’re playing with cards from 1993, Chris Hoiles is going to have more hits on his card than Jeff Tackett. You roll a white die and two red dice to determine the outcome of the at-bat. The white die corresponds to the column (1-3 are on the batter card and 4-6 on the pitcher card), and the red dice correspond to the results in that column. Occasionally there will be two or more potential outcomes for that line: .i.e. HOME RUN 1-2/DOUBLE 3-20. That’s where the 20-sided die comes into play and plunges the game even further into geekdom. There are also at-bats that are dependent on the ability of the defensive players, and these (as well as stolen bases, hit-and-runs, bunts, etc.) are at the mercy of charts, and…I’m in too deep. I swear this isn’t as complicated as I’m making it sound, particularly if you play the basic version of the game rather than the advanced and super-advanced (!) versions.

To get back on track, let me tell you about how I discovered Strat-O-Matic. When I was a brand-new baseball fan back in the day (1993-1994), I used to see ads for the game in Baseball Digest, but I didn’t have the foggiest idea of how the game was played. One day we took a family shopping trip to the outlets in Perryville, MD and lo and behold, the Toy Liquidators had the full Strat-O-Matic game significantly marked down. It came in a box that may have been designed in the early-to-mid 1980s, judging from the full-color photos of players in polyester pullover jerseys with the team logos airbrushed out (that’s how unlicensed products did it back in the day, Upper Deck). I bought it without hesitation, and tore open the box in the back seat of the car on the ride home. I contented myself with separating the player cards from their perforated sheets, absorbing all of the names and numbers. Practically every player who took the field in an MLB game during the 1993 season was there; each team had a roster that ran 27 to 30 deep, and there were even two separate cards for each of a handful of players who changed clubs in midseason.

I played a handful of games solitaire-style, and had a good deal of fun determining batting orders and changing pitchers and inserting pinch hitters, and visualizing the simulated game that was unfolding with each roll of the dice. In my mind, there was something authentic and true about the way the game played when compared to the flashier, motor-skills-driven video games that threatened to replace it. But I never really attempted to play with the few friends I had (none of whom were as baseball-and-stats-mad as I was), and lost interest before long.

I still have my Strat-O-Matic game set, including the 1993 player cards and the 1995 player cards that I ordered by mail at a later date. A few years ago I brought the game out on a whim and decided to play out the entire 1993 season for all 28 teams...no, I didn’t have a girlfriend at the time. Why do you ask? Anyhow, I got very gung-ho about it. Mocked up a scoresheet in Excel and began with Opening Day, using the schedules that were available on baseball-reference.com. I played out the games one-by-one, again managing both squads and keeping score. I actually made it through a couple days of the season (in a few weeks of real time) before getting sidetracked and letting the project fall by the wayside. I still have the box scores sitting on my hard drive, and I occasionally wonder how the season would have unfolded. Would the Blue Jays, White Sox, Phillies, Giants, and Braves again be the cream of the crop? Could the streaky Orioles stay in the pennant race with a little more consistency? Might Ken Griffey, Jr. or Frank Thomas make a run at 61 home runs? This inquiring mind still wants to know. I’ve even toyed with the idea of resuming the arrested season and posting game recaps to a new blog, complete with scans of era-appropriate cards of the noteworthy players. Of course, this is a pipe dream at present, as long as I have two blogs and a website to maintain. Then there’s the pesky demands of day-to-day life, what with a full-time job and several hours of sleep and family and friends all requiring considerable pieces of the 24-hour pie.

But who knows? Maybe someday I’ll carve out an hour or two a day for those paper stand-ins of my childhood heroes. Haven’t you always wanted to hear a lottery winner say that he intends to celebrate his fortune by quitting his job and playing tabletop baseball?

Jimmy Haynes, 1996 Pinnacle Aficionado #186

Look out, action-style Jimmy Haynes! The Big Giant Head of Pointillist Jimmy Haynes has placed your left forearm in his mouth and is getting ready to devour it mercilessly! Aiiiiyyyeeeeeee!

If I could go back in time, I would give Pinnacle two pieces of advice. First, don't give your specialty sets names that require judicious use of spellchecker. Next, stay away from the horrifying monster heads.

Glenn Gulliver, 1983 Fleer #62

If they did Senior Superlatives at Eastern Michigan University, I have a good hunch that Glenn Gulliver would have been a shoo-in for "Most Likely to Be a Character in a Charles Dickens Novel". Pip pip!

Ryan Freel, 2009 Topps #561

Last year, Ryan Freel played for four different organizations, mostly because he was brittle and terrible. The 33-year-old utility player became an Oriole in December 2008 via the Ramon Hernandez trade, but played in a grand total of nine games in five weeks. He had two singles in fifteen at-bats, missed time with a concussion as a result of an errant pickoff throw in Boston, and griped about a lack of playing time. So the O's traded him to the Cubs on May 8 for all-run, no-hit outfielder Joey Gathright. In Chicago, Freel had a whopping four hits (again, all singles) in 28 at-bats over two months before the Cubs dumped him on Kansas City, who seems to collect lousy old players. Ryan rewarded KC's faith with a .244 average (including two doubles!) in 18 games, but the Royals released him in August. It took two weeks for him to catch on with a fourth team, the Rangers. He played two games at AAA Oklahoma City and was released yet again. No one has signed him since, but he could probably use the rest after moving so much in 2009.

Much like Freel, I've just started moving and I won't be stopping soon. I spent eight hours this morning and afternoon helping my sister and her husband move from their old house into their new house. The torrential downpour and occasional gale-force winds made it a particularly pleasant experience. But I had my own motives, as I'll be making my new home in the rowhouse that they've just vacated. I only wish it were as simple as packing up everything that I own and schlepping it up the Beltway to my new digs. Next weekend I'll be occupied with cleaning the place from top to bottom and stripping the decades-old wallpaper. It'll probably be another week before I can get the walls freshly painted, and another week beyond that before I get somebody in to refurbish the hardwood floors. Then, and only then, will I be ready to move in and get settled. With all of this in mind, I certainly hope you'll bear with me if the entries on this blog aren't as verbose as usual in the coming month. For now, I think I'm gonna find somewhere to lay around.

Vintage Fridays: Ray Moore, 1955 Topps #208

It occurs to me that I know absolutely nothing about Ray Moore, other than the fact that he looks downright adorable with that renegade lock of hair dangling down from under his cap. So it's time to play:

Ten Things I Didn't Know About Ray Moore:

-He was born in Meadows, MD, near Mt. Airy.

-His nicknames included "Farmer" and "Old Blue".

-Was a pretty good hitter for a pitcher, batting .271 in 1956 and clubbing six home runs in his career.

-Had three solid years as a starting pitcher for the Orioles, winning 33 and losing 30 with a 3.93 ERA from 1955-1957. However, he didn't exactly know where his fastball was going at times; his 112 walks led the American League in 1957.

-Was signed by the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947 and didn't make his major league debut until 1952, when he was 26. Didn't reach the majors to stay until 1955 with the O's, but had a good nine-year career from that point forward.

-Got a very tough no-decision on May 21, 1957. Ray gave up only one run, scattering eight hits and nine walks...in fifteen innings. He also struck out nine Tigers, and hit a third-inning home run off of his counterpart Jim Bunning to give the O's an early lead. After Jim Brideweser hit a one-out double in the bottom of the fifteenth, Wayne Causey pinch-hit for Moore and grounded out. The Birds stranded Brideweser in scoring position, and reliever Mike Fornieles blew the game by surrendering a run on two singles and a passed ball the very next inning. On the bright side, Ray did lower his ERA by 1.35 that day!

-In December 1957, Baltimore traded him to the White Sox in a seven-player deal. One of the players coming back to the Orioles in the swap was Hall of Famer Larry Doby. However, the O's sent Doby to Cleveland on the cusp of the 1958 season in another trade, and he never played a game in Charm City.

-Ray became a full-time reliever with the Senators/Twins from 1960-1963, and placed in the top seven in the A.L. in saves for three straight seasons with modest totals (by today's standards) of 13, 14, and 9.

-Was the first Orioles player to wear #29. Other notable 29s were reliever Dick Hall and outfielder Ken Singleton.

-He died in 1995 at age 68 and is buried at Cedar Hill Cemetery in Suitland, MD.

Brooks Robinson, 2001 Upper Deck Hall of Famers #66

Jumping onto another blogging assignment in a belated fashion, I went searching through my Orioles cards looking for cards with interesting stuff going on in the background. This isn't quite it, but I like it a lot. While Brooks Robinson's base hit stroke is and should be the driving force in this photo, it's the background that gives it context. I am 90% sure that the catcher is Johnny Bench, which would place the action squarely in the midst of the 1970 World Series. So not only do you get two Hall of Famers on one card, but also a snapshot of the five games that defined Brooksie's career. This card also provides a camera angle rarely seen in cards, the center field shot that has become customary on television. So we see not only batter, catcher, and umpire, but also the television cameraman and a phalanx of nattily-dressed Baltimore fans of a certain age. Love the horn-rimmed glasses guy in the second row directly behind the plate. This is everything that a card should be...except for that nasty gold foil. Always with the foil.

Frank Robinson, 2010 Topps History of the Game #HOTG20

This is a pretty nifty insert that I pulled during my box break of 2010 Topps, with Frank Robinson showing off his 1966 American League MVP plaque. Of course, the caption makes it seems as though he won both the National League and American League MVPs that year, which would truly be remarkable. (He won the 1961 NL MVP with the Reds, and his 1966 award with the Orioles made him the first player to get that honor in both leagues.) But enough about the nice cards that I pulled...

Who wants to trade for some crappy cards?

Okay, so salesmanship was never my strong suit. Seriously, I’ve unlocked six cards in Topps’ Million Card Giveaway and my luck seems to have run dry. Besides the excellent 1958 George Crowe card that was the subject of last week’s show and tell, I did have one other vintage hit: a 1964 Don Blasingame. I already have Don’s 1965 card and I’m not crazy about the stripped-down 1964 design, so I decided to make a deal. I only need 56 cards to complete my 1965 Topps set, so I tossed out a few reasonable trade requests on the Giveaway website. The next day, I had a shiny Jim Bouton sitting where that blah Blasingame had been.

But the four cards I’ve redeemed since have been pretty lackluster. I already owned the first two, a 1993 Jack Clark and a 2008 Tadahito Iguchi. Last night’s prize, a 2001 Roberto Hernandez, was new to me but still underwhelming. Today, another blasted 1988 Topps - Tony Gwynn. I’ve tossed out some trade requests for these and the previously-unearthed 1988 Juan Samuel, trying to at least get something of interest to myself: one of the cards I need to finish my 1982 set, or a player I enjoy on an unfamiliar team (one offer I made was Iguchi for a 2003 Rickey Henderson Red Sox card). But so far, no bites. Still, you never know what someone else might want or need.

With that in mind, I’m throwing it open to the readers of this blog. If you’re participating in the Million Card Giveaway and any of these four cards catches your fancy, make an offer on toppscards.com and there’s a good chance that I’ll say yes. The caveat is this: I already have complete sets from 1986-1991, 1993, 1995, 2000, 2005, and Series 1 2008. I had a lot of fun completing the Blasingame-Bouton trade and I’d like to wheel and deal some more! In case you didn’t already know, here are the eligible gentlemen:

Alejandro Freire, 2006 Fleer Ultra #182

Who is Alejandro Freire? Just another of those late-twenties, early-thirties minor league veterans who got to live out his major league dreams thanks to the lousiness of the recent-vintage Orioles. He was two weeks shy of his 31st birthday when he made his debut in August 2005, in the midst of the Rafael Palmeiro suspension and fallout. Freire had originally been signed by the Astros fifteen years earlier, and he played 1,222 minor league games in four organizations before the O's grabbed him in a pinch. Then he hit .246 in 25 games and that was all she wrote.

What's more, Freire was one of 22 players in Orioles history who was born in Venezuela. Of course, the two most notable were Luis Aparicio and Melvin Mora. I was surprised that there were so many one-time Birds that called this South American locale home. With Mora's departure in the offseason, shortstop Cesar Izturis is the only current Baltimore player who is also a proud Venezuelan.

This concludes the evening's social studies class. You are dismissed.

Mike Mussina, 1992 Fleer #20

With yesterday’s public service announcement taken care of, I’m going to double back and talk about the demise of my elementary school. St. Clare Elementary in Essex, MD was founded in 1956 by four Roman Catholic Sisters of Mercy from Kells, Ireland. After fifty-five years spent providing quality education to generations of children, the school will close its doors this May. The decision was made by the Archdiocese of Baltimore primarily because enrollment had dwindled from nearly 300 students down to about 150. I’m sure I’ll never know the whole story, and it’s exhausting to play the blame game, so I just want to give St. Clare a more proper sendoff by sharing some of my vivid memories of the place and the people that served to lay the foundation of the person that I am today.

-My parents enrolled me in pre-kindergarten at St. Clare when I was four years old. Right away, I earned a reputation as a shy and sensitive boy who was intelligent but somewhat lacking in motor skills. I’ve been told that my pre-K teacher, Miss JoAnn, was astonished to learn on the first day that I already knew how to read…and nearly as surprised to learn that I wasn’t able to use scissors.

-Kindergarten brought its own challenges, as I struggled with my penmanship; having broken my (dominant) right arm that August didn’t help matters. I must have been unlucky that year, because I also busted open the back of my head in class one day. My desk was at the back of the classroom and I was leaning back on my chair to try to pull out my handwriting book, which was at the very bottom of the stack in the desk. I lost my balance and hit my head on a metal table right behind me and started bleeding everywhere. I remember sitting in the nurse’s office with the teacher’s aide and sobbing. She was doing her best to calm me down and told me that I was going to live and that I would grow up and get married some day. That strikes me as an odd sort of thing to say to a five-year-old, but it did stick with me and it probably provided a distraction. I think I dodged a bullet, because no stitches were needed and I was cleaned up and returned to class in time for a regularly scheduled lesson on dinosaurs, my first childhood passion.

-My father got his first teaching job at St. Clare, as the principal took a chance and hired an art teacher with no college degree and two decades of experience in retail and warehouse distribution. It took another ten years for him to earn his bachelor’s degree in art education, and he never would have done it without the support and accommodations that the administrators and fellow faculty members provided to him.

-As a middle schooler, it was sometimes embarrassing to have a parent working at my school, but I’d have to admit that it had its moments. One day my classmates decided right before art class that we would have a secret word of the day, a la Pee Wee’s Playhouse. At the beginning of the period, after much prompting, my dad finally uttered the secret word: “door”. We responded with a brief cacophony of screams, and then moved along as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

-My fifth grade teacher had a system for rewarding good behavior and academic achievements by which she would award us with fake money made from construction paper, in denominations from $1 to $500. At the end of the year, she auctioned off food, toys, and trinkets that we could purchase with our accrued riches. At the time, I was “dating” Stephanie, my first girlfriend. (This largely consisted of holding hands when possible, talking on the phone regularly, and hanging out at the parish’s spring carnival.) She was a tomboy, so I attempted to meet her halfway by exhibiting a heretofore unseen interest in sports. Anyway, getting back to the auction, my big haul was a modest stack of a few dozen 1992 Fleer cards that included Mike Mussina. I’d already been in possession of an assortment of 1980s Topps cards that had been given to me by family members, but as I remember it those gaudy greenish borders and big bold team-colored letters were my gateway to a collecting frenzy.

-In eighth grade, a classmate’s father suffered a fatal heart attack at his workplace. It was stunning, confusing, and most of all scary to the rest of us. Speaking for myself, I’d lost my grandfather a few years earlier, but I understood that he was an older man and that his time had come. The idea that a parent could be taken away from you…I still don’t like to think about it. The day that we found out about Amy’s dad, our teachers rose to the occasion. They put aside all of the planned classwork for the day and talked to us about what had happened. We were given time to walk around outside and talk to each other, time to cry, time to scream. We were allowed to play basketball and to do basically anything within reason for a much-needed distraction.

-One of the last things that St. Clare did for me as a student was to give me the acting bug. I was cast as the Grand Duke in the school’s Disneyesque musical production of Cinderella. It was a part that (mercifully) required no significant singing from me, and I suppose there was no one else who had more of a physical resemblance to the animated character. I remembered all of my lines and enjoyed the process enough that I gravitated toward the stage again in high school, and I’ve been involved in theatre in one capacity or another ever since.

There are scores of other images and moments from my ten years at St. Clare that have been flooding back to me since I heard about its impending closure, but I’ve already topped 1,000 words and I have other things I’d like to do today. Until we meet again…

Brian Roberts, 2008 Upper Deck SPX #10

Yesterday I promised a two-part post, but I've already gotten sidetracked...as is my wont. Over the weekend I learned that card collector's worst nightmare had come true for a fellow blogger. While I've never had any dealings with The Collective Troll, I've never heard anyone utter an angry word about him. I've checked out his blog from time to time, and his collection is far-reaching and incredible. He is a Tampa Bay Rays fan, but also collects several players and many vintage sets. Last week he was traveling with a shoebox full of many of his most cherished cards (including 43 1951 Bowman cards and several stars from the 1965 Topps set that is so dear to me), and in an unfortunate moment of haste, left the shoebox in the back of his car with the doors unlocked. When he returned to his car after work, the whole box and a few other personal effects were gone. If you can bear to read his full account, do so here.

If there's anything that continually amazes me about the motley amalgamation of collectors here on the Internet, it's the endless generosity. This is the sort of situation that calls for a good Samaritan or twenty, and several bloggers have already answered the call. I don't have many Rays cards to send, but the Troll recently started writing about his favorite non-Rays player, one Brian Roberts. Suffice to say, I've got plenty of extra cards of that guy that will be headed to the post office soon. If you've got any cardboard to spare, think about hooking up a guy who would certainly do the same for you.

Andy Van Slyke, 1995 Upper Deck #368

Many things in life are fleeting in nature. Take Andy Van Slyke's Orioles career; he signed with the Birds prior to the 1995 season but played only 17 games with the club. The 34-year-old outfielder, who had been an All-Star just two seasons prior, battled injuries and hit .159 (10-for-63) with three home runs before being traded to the Phillies in mid-June. He played marginally better in Philly (.243 AVG/.684 OPS), but it would prove to be the last season of his career. Sometimes the end comes suddenly.

That looks to be the case for hobby giant Upper Deck, who burst onto the scene in 1989 with glossy cards with high-quality (and often inventive) photos both front and back. They changed baseball cards as we knew them, and after the downturn in the hobby at the turn of the century, only Topps and Upper Deck were left standing. But this past offseason, Major League Baseball dealt a crushing blow to the latter by signing an exclusive licensing deal with Topps. Everyone waited with great curiosity to see how Upper Deck (still holding a license with the Players' Association) would respond.

The answer was another tepid, forgettable card design in a series of them, and a half-hearted approach to the display of team logos and insignia. Many cards featured player's backs facing the camera, or profile shots that obscured a portion of the jersey and cap logos. Yet a significant number of cards blatantly showed head-on shots of logos. The end result was baffling. If Upper Deck was going to make some effort to hide those trademarked images, why not do it for every photo? If they wanted to lift a couple choice fingers in the direction of Topps and MLB by showing logos, again, why not do it 100% and go out with guns blazing? In the end, they still got sued and had to reach a hasty settlement that makes them look bad and costs them millions of dollars. The outlook is gloomy for the boys from Carlsbad, CA.

In going with the rule of threes, I intended to write about my former elementary school, St. Clare School in Essex, MD. This week the Archdiocese of Baltimore announced that the PreK-8 Catholic school, the place where I made some very good friends and spent ten years of my life, will be closed at the end of the academic year. I'm furious, disappointed, and sad, but I'm still not ready to put it all into words. This entry will be a two-parter; check back tomorrow.

Vintage Fridays: Jim Fuller, 1975 Topps #594

Until recently, Jim Fuller was one of those names that didn't really register with me. Then I saw a few mentions of his prodigious minor league power in Dave Pugh's book, and decided to give him a closer look.

Though he was born in Bethesda, Fuller played high school and college ball in the San Diego area. The Orioles chose him with their second round pick in the secondary phase of the draft in January 1970. He climbed steadily through the organization, winning Most Valuable Player honors in his league twice. In 1971, the 20-year-old picked up his first MVP when he hit .326/.431/.611 (that's a 1.042 OPS, folks) with 28 doubles, 33 home runs, and 110 RBI for the class A Florida State League's Miami Orioles. The following year he bashed 34 homers and drove in 107 runs between AA Asheville and AAA Rochester. Then in 1973, he took home the hardware as the International League's best player when he clubbed 25 doubles and 39 home runs for Rochester. At age 22, he also posted 108 RBI in his first full season with the Red Wings. He didn't hit much in a nine-game trial with the Orioles, but did open eyes with a two-homer effort against the Tigers on September 25.

Jim's utter lack of plate discipline, on the other hand, was troubling. While he piled up strikeouts in the minors (including a league-leading 197 at Rochester in 1973 that accounted for 38.3% of his plate appearances), he was able to draw walks and produce big hits against inexperienced young pitchers. That wasn't the case when he reached the majors, obviously, and Fuller never seemed to adjust. Spending most of the 1974 campaign in Baltimore, Fuller hit just .222 and struck out 68 times in 202 plate appearances while walking only eight times. When he did make contact he still hit the ball hard, evidenced by the fact that 18 of his 42 hits went for extra bases (11 2B and 7 HR). But Jim just couldn't get the job done with any consistency.

Spending the following two seasons back at Rochester, Fuller's performance declined. He missed a chunk of 1976 with a broken thumb and was released by the O's at the end of that year. He signed with Houston before the next season and didn't hit there, either (.160, 2 HR, 9 RBI in 100 AB). After a miserable start at AAA in 1978, he hung up his spikes. He was only 27 at the time.

It's incredible to think that somebody who put up such eye-popping numbers at every stop in the minor leagues could hit the wall so suddenly, but baseball's an unforgiving profession. If you have a flaw in your game, it will catch up with you.

Jaret Wright, 2007 Topps Heritage #460

Tonight I'm going to talk more about 2010 Topps. So you may be wondering why I chose a card from the 2007 Heritage set, which borrows its design from 1958. I'll get to that in a moment.

Last night I planned to rip open just four packs of my hobby box, but none of those packs produced either of the two things that I was primarily looking for: an Oriole or a Million Card Giveaway code. So I tore into a fifth pack, and that did the trick. I nabbed Adam Jones (running the bases with tongue protruding Jordan-style) and a code card with Mickey Mantle on the front.

Before I tell you which card I unlocked with my code (oh, I'm all about suspense tonight), let me run down a few things I like and dislike about this year's flagship set. I've already voiced my approval for the base card design and photography, which is the most important thing. None of the inserts I've seen do much for me, though the "Cards Your Mom Threw Out" series has its good points. There's something lazy about reprints of past cards, but the first one I pulled was Robin Yount's 1975 Topps rookie card. I'm planning to complete the 1975 set, and given the dollar value of the Yount card, I'll be needing this reprint to stand in as a placeholder for some time. So that's decent, and if you were to collect the whole "Yo Momma" insert set (as other bloggers have dubbed it) you'd have a great visual representation of the history of Topps cards from the early 1950s to the present day. On the other hand, reprints of cards from the past ten years? Pointless. Whose mom threw out their prized 2003 Kevin Youkilis card, and would this hypothetical person be torturing themselves over the loss of such a fine piece of cardboard? Meanwhile, many of the reprints (primarily the recent ones) are poor in quality. The pictures look blurred and pixelated. Someone goofed. I also strongly dislike the hideous new Rookie Cup design, but night owl has tackled that issue better than I could have.

Okay, now that you've endured my griping, let's get to the fun stuff. I logged into toppscards.com last night and checked the sidebar with its list of ten recent unlocked cards. Unlike the first week, when there was a flood of 1980s cards, or last weekend, when 1970s cards were being spit out willy-nilly, last night's list featured a hodgepodge of decades. Great, I finally got around to buying this stuff, and they actually decided to randomize the distribution of giveaways. So I typed in my code, took a deep breath, clicked the "unlock" button, and the following card loaded...

George Crowe, 1958 Topps #12. So awesome. The team-colored specs. The commie-fearing "Redlegs" nickname. The mascot with pillbox cap, handlebar mustache, and demented grin. The forgotten player who hit 31 home runs in 1957 as an injury fill-in for Ted Kluszewski. Oh, and did I mention that this card is 52 years old? I could unlock 1987 Topps cards with the rest of my codes, and I'd still be happy. (Okay, maybe that's overstating it.)

Hmm, I didn't mention anything about Jaret Wright, did I? Some other time, perhaps.

Jeremy Guthrie, 2009 Topps Black #194

Today there is baseball, and life is good. I checked my iPhone this afternoon, and saw starting lineups posted on my go-to blogs. I got in the car after work and heard Joe Angel recapping the lovely totals: 12 runs, 14 hits for the Orioles, 2 runs, 5 hits for the visiting Rays. Jeremy Guthrie started on the right foot with two scoreless innings, and seven frames of solid relief from six more pitchers who have a good shot to contribute in 2010. A win from would-be lefty specialist and clubhouse clown Will Ohman. Most exciting of all, six home runs, including two each from rookie corner infielders Rhyne Hughes and Josh Bell and a booming shot to center by young star right fielder Nick Markakis.

I got so pumped up by the renewed presence of baseball in my everyday life (exhibition baseball is still baseball, after all) that I took the long way home so I could stop by the hobby shop and buy myself a box of 2010 Topps...think of it as a housewarming gift, from me to me. 36 flawless new packs to rip open? Bliss. Anyway, I drove the rest of the way home listening to Scott Garceau and Mark Zinno and their callers on 105.7 FM talk about the O's...sure there was a bit of Terps-Duke discussion and a remark or two about the Ravens, but it was little more than window dressing. The Birds are back.

Mark Belanger, 1981 Topps #641

Did you know that Mark Belanger was one of three Orioles who to serve in the National Guard during the April 1968 riots that erupted after Martin Luther King, Jr.'s assassination? (Dave Leonhard and Pete Richert were the others.) Would you believe that Belanger stole home plate twice in his career...or that Brooks Robinson holds the team record with four thefts of home in his career?

I learned these fascinating facts and more by opening up Dave Pugh's "The Book of Baltimore Orioles Lists", a true labor of love from someone who was born in the same hospital as the Ripken boys and has lived in Baltimore almost as long as the Birds themselves. Dave recently came across this blog (and my NumerOlogy website) and sent me a very kind email. He also offered to send me a copy of his book, which I can't believe I hadn't come across sooner. The first edition was published in 1993, with a second edition following in 1999. My signed copy of the latter edition arrived in the mail today, and I'm pleased to add it to my bookshelf.

I'd like to offer my thanks to Dave for his compliments, his gift, and his fandom. It's always good to make the acquaintance of a like-minded fanatic.

Paul Blair, 1994 Upper Deck All-Time Heroes MLB 125th Anniversary #211

With baseball card companies routinely tapping into the nostalgia cash cow, we're inundated on a yearly basis by reprints of old cards, recycled versions of bygone card designs, and brand new cards featuring retired players. But rarely do you see a former player photographed in the here and now. In this case, the "here and now" is now 17 years past, but you get my drift. I am all about this candid snapshot of a 49-year-old Paul Blair partaking in an Old-Timers Game, and looking pretty fit doing it. I could do without the Upper Deck product placement, but that 1993-vintage Orioles uniform fits him like a glove. The photographer also caught him in mid-sentence, an appropriate pose for a man nicknamed "Motormouth".

At its heart this blog is about baseball players and baseball cards, and it's a simple message tonight. Two thumbs up for this card.

Anthony Telford, 1992 Fleer #29

Looking for more information on pitcher Anthony Telford, I came to his Baseball Reference Bullpen page. It didn't have much to offer, except for a scan of one of his cards, which he had signed with his name and the Bible verse "Rev 3:20". Lots of professional athletes have been known to quote scripture along with their autographs, but I haven't seen many of them who have borrowed from the Book of Revelations. For those who are curious, the verse reads as follows:

"Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me."

While only Telford knows what significance those words have in his own life, I can see how he might have done a little soul-searching in the mid-90s, when he bounced from the Orioles to the Braves to the Athletics to the Indians to the Expos. By the time the 1997 season rolled around, Anthony was 31 years old and had pitched only 20 major league games, the last of them with Baltimore in 1993. Incredibly, he made Montreal's roster in 1997 and went on to pitch 285 games of relief for the team over the next four seasons, fashioning a 3.71 ERA in that span. Telford's career didn't last much longer after that, but considering his late-in-the-game renaissance, he certainly seems to have been blessed by somebody or something.

Scott Erickson, 1998 Donruss Silver Press Proof #242

There are many valuable pieces of advice that I can give fellow collectors for taking proper care of your card collection. You probably know most of the basics (store your cards in Ultra-Pro binder sheets, keep them out of the reach of children and pets, don't place them in damp areas, etc.). But perhaps the most important pointer that I can offer is this: if you own large quantities of cards from the late 1990s, do not take them outside. If you do, a flock of magpies will be attracted to their shiny, foil-coated, die-cut, holographic nuttiness and will descend upon you, pecking at your soft flesh and your juicy eyes until you relinquish your grip on the glittery goods.

Consider yourself forewarned.

Vintage Fridays: Mike Anderson, 1979 Topps #102

Have you ever seen a cheesier airbrush job on an Orioles card than this paint-by-numbers treatment of reserve outfielder Mike Anderson? Sure, the dude only hit .094 in 32 at-bats in Charm City, but he still deserved better. As long as they were making cosmetic touches to Mike's photo, they could have done something to make him look less seedy. If I had been a little'un in 1979 and I pulled this card out of a pack, it would have given me the serious heebie-jeebies. Can any of my older readers confirm any feelings of unease associate with this card? Have at it in the comments.

Brian Roberts, 2006 Topps Opening Day SI for Kids #24

Regrettably, this "Funny Photo" isn't actually all that funny - unless, of course, an evening with Dave Coulier is your idea of a hilarious good time. (If it is, please don't tell me. I don't want to know.)

To compound my annoyance with this card, the photo was taken during an Orioles loss: May 29, 2005. On a Sunday afternoon, the O's took a 6-1 lead over the Tigers on the strength of a five-run outburst in the fifth inning. This picture comes from that rally. B. J. Surhoff has just smoked a line drive to right field for the last triple of his long career. I suspect that he took third base on the throw home, which was gathered up by catcher Vance Wilson, who lunged at the feet of Brian Roberts in vain. Jeff Fiorentino and Roberts scored to make it 3-1.

Like so many games in recent years, this one came unraveled late with the help of some overpaid veteran relievers. The regrettable Steves of '05 did the trick in a six-run Detroit seventh, with Steve Reed coughing up five runs in the span of five batters and capping his gasoline act by serving up a three-run homer to the vaunted Craig Monroe. Dumpy Steve Kline followed Reed to the mound because misery loves company, and allowed the Tigers to tack on an insurance run. Baltimore's bats went cold in a hurry, and they found themselves on the wrong end of an 8-6 loss and a three-game series sweep. It was a grim portent for the first-place O's, who would relinquish their lead a month later and just keep on sliding.

So no, this photo doesn't amuse me. I would have gone with a Homer Simpson quote myself, but I suppose "Out of my way, jerkass!" would be taboo in a set aimed at young collectors.

Eddie Murray, 1988 Topps Woolworth Baseball Highlights #5

Today is a great day for celebration! Not only is it the 54th birthday of the Patron Saint of the Chopstache, Death Glare, and Monster Home Run, Mr. Eddie Clarence Murray, but I also finally made it through settlement. Today, I am officially a homeowner. I won't be moving for a few weeks yet, and there are renovations and touch-ups to be done and furniture to be bought before it is truly something of my own, but I'm pretty excited to start getting things done after months of torturous paperwork and lending legalese and delays. I'm ready to step into the box and take my swings.

If you're curious, it's also the 37th birthday of minor league veteran and Canadian hero Stubby Clapp. Many happy returns, Stubby!

Aaron Rakers, 2006 Fleer Tradition #120

I can't believe that it took another card company 25 years to rip off Topps' so-simple-it's-sublime "hat design". I think I like it even better than the original, since it features the actual team logo. If you somehow missed the Aaron Rakers era in Baltimore, well...there wasn't much to miss. If I recall correctly, his surname is pronounced "rockers", as in the high-flying Shawn Michaels/Marty Jannetty tag team of 1980s vintage. Aaron was a 23rd round draft pick in 1999 who got his callup in his sixth year in the Orioles organization. At ages 27-28, he made 13 relief appearances for the club in 2004 and 2005, and pitched well enough: a 3.50 ERA and 14 strikeouts and four walks in 18 innings. He even picked up his only career win against the Yankees, bailing out Bruce Chen in a 17-9 slugfest in September '05.

Rakers' slim chances of a significant major league career were derailed by a torn labrum in 2006. He pitched a single inning for the Padres in 2007, then joined the ex-Oriole pipeline known as the York Revolution in 2008. At last check, he was continuing his pro career in Taiwan. Keep on keepin' on, Aaron.

Mike Boddicker, 1986 Donruss #8

The Orioles sure waited until the last possible moment, but word has finally leaked out that they've secured a TV announcer lineup for the 2010 season. There are plenty of familiar names to O's fans, including a couple of surprises.

It was presumed that the only change would be a replacement for Buck Martinez, who handled the analyst job when Jim Palmer was elsewhere. Indeed, Mike Flanagan is returning to the broadcast booth to replace Buck, which I'd easily consider an upgrade. But Palmer's going to have a little extra company. Joining Jim and play-by-play man Gary Thorne on MASN telecasts will be a rotating third man from a four-man roster.

The third bananas will include Brady Anderson, Mike Boddicker, and Eddie Murray, all of whom are intriguing choices for various reasons. Brady certainly seems to enjoy talking, but lives in California. I wonder how many trips he'll be taking cross-country. Boddicker seems to have lived a fairly quiet life since retiring in 1993 and going home to rural Kansas. Eddie, of course, was never noted for being outgoing with reporters during his career, but I can't say that I blame him. He definitely had more personality when interacting with teammates, and I'm in favor of having more of #33 in my day-to-day life. The rumored fourth guy is none other than Billy Ripken, who actually seems like the most natural choice. He's local, he's outspoken, and he more or less knows his stuff.

If nothing else, the Orioles and MASN have gotten my attention. I'll be tuning in early and often anyhow, and I'm optimistic that they're on to something. Maybe they're working on making the current O's team more competitive by osmosis.

Randy Milligan, 1993 Upper Deck #228

As part of my ongoing losing battle to better organize and display my collection, I spent the early part of this evening putting my 1993 Upper Deck factory set in a binder. It was long overdue, since I adhere to the opinion expressed by some of my favorite fellow bloggers that the card company from California was at the peak of its powers in that year. The design is unobtrusive but distinct, and I appreciate the fact that the Orioles are the only team to have a bright orange team-color stripe at the bottom of the card. The Mets are given blue, and the Giants are black. The photos (both front and back) are nothing short of amazing. They offer a great blend of incredibly detailed and dynamic action shots and imaginative and unique poses and candid moments. More than anything, the clarity and quality of the photos is noteworthy.

Randy Milligan's card had the most uniquely composed photo of the team set. Honestly, have you ever seen another card featuring the team trainer applying eye black? I love it all the more because you can read the trainer's watch if your eyes are sharp enough. I couldn't quite decipher the time, but the date appears to be 5-17, or May 17. The O's were indeed on the road that day, visiting the White Sox. It wasn't a pretty game, with Chicago battering Ben McDonald and Storm Davis and outlasting the Birds by a football score of 14-10. "Moose" Milligan had a decent day at the plate, picking up a pair of singles in five at-bats and driving in two runs, probably because the sun wasn't in his eyes.

Dave Criscione, 1991 Crown/Coca-Cola All-Time Orioles #88

I believe I promised you a Dave Criscione story, and a Dave Criscione story you shall have. David Gerald Criscione was born in Dunkirk, NY, and attended Dunkirk High (go figure) before signing with the Senators in 1969 as a fifth-round draft pick. Despite flashing a solid bat at every minor league level, he spent seven years in the Washington (and later, Texas) organization without ever sniffing the major leagues. After hitting .293 with 15 home runs at AAA Sacramento in 1976, he was traded to the Orioles for another minor league veteran, pitcher Bob Babcock. It was more of the same in 1977 for Dave, who spent the first half of the year at AAA Rochester...until fate intervened.

In mid-July, an injury to catcher Rick Dempsey left the O's shorthanded behind the plate. The 25-year-old Criscione was promoted with little fanfare. He made his debut on July 17 as an eighth-inning defensive replacement, but hit a shallow flyout the following inning to end the game and strand the potential tying and winning runs. A few days later (July 21, to be exact), his wife Marge gave birth to the couple's first child, daughter Keri Lee. Dave appeared in each of the next two games, but only for an inning in each. But Sunday the 24th, a doubleheader with the Brewers gave the rookie his first opportunity to start. In the second game, he caught all nine innings and had his first two career hits, a pair of singles. The appreciative Baltimore fans gave him a standing ovation for each hit, and another in the eighth inning when he sacrificed Doug DeCinces to third base. Two batters later, Elliott Maddox hit a sac fly to score DeCinces with the eventual winning run. That would prove to be Criscione's only start in the big leagues, but not the greatest moment of his brief career.

Monday's game against Milwaukee went into extra innings tied at three. In the ninth, manager Earl Weaver had pinch-hit for starting catcher Dave Skaggs, so Criscione had to enter the game in the tenth frame. The game wore on into the eleventh, and with one out in the bottom of the inning young Dave strode to the plate to face Brewers reliever Sam Hinds. All he did was blast the game-winning home run to send Memorial Stadium into delirium! It was Criscione's first and last home run and RBI, as well as his last hit and last at-bat in Charm City. He played two more road games for the O's, going 0-for-3, before being sent back to the minors for good with a career average of .333 (3-for-9). He hung up his spikes after the following season (also spent at Rochester), but he can spend the rest of his life telling friends, family, and strangers about that one memorable week in the summer of 1977.

Vintage Fridays: Tom Shopay, 1972 Topps #418

"Why are baseball cards so attractive to kids and adults?"
"I can only speak for myself. Years ago that was a source of information. Stats were always big. They were an educational index card. You read all the little small things that were on the back of the card. You'd get the image and you could hold in your hand and play with. The trading element was pretty cool. I was an Orioles fan … seems like it took me forever to get Brooks Robinson. I had a whole bunch of Tom Shopays."

The preceding quote is an excerpt from a brief interview that Cal Ripken, Jr. recently did with USA Today's Game On blog. There are some other great bits about card collecting and his career. But really...don't you pity poor Tom Shopay? Here's a guy who scratched and clawed for his entire pro career, a 34th round draft pick of the Yankees who made it to the majors in his third pro season and did just enough to hang on a little longer and a little longer...eleven years in pro ball distilled to a total of 253 big league games spread across seven seasons. He hit only .201 in the bigs with three home runs (just one of those in his 245 career games as an Oriole), but doggone it, he made it all the same. Then, 33 years later, the most famous player in team history comes out and tells the world what a bummer it was to pull a fistful of Shopays from those old waxy packs of Topps. They were just fodder for his bike spokes while he waited anxiously for Ol' Brooksie. That's gotta sting.

Gregg Olson, 1990 Fleer League Leaders #28

If there's a sports Hall of Fame somewhere in North America, chances are good that they're inducting an Oriole soon. I've already mentioned Harold Baines (Orioles Hall of Fame) and Ben McDonald (Lousiana Sports Hall of Fame), but I've heard tell of four more in the past few weeks.

-Gregg Olson will be one of the first honorees on Auburn University's Baseball Wall of Fame, part of a loaded class that also includes Bo Jackson, Tim Hudson, and Frank Thomas.

-Chris Hoiles and pitcher Paul Mitchell have been tabbed for the Rochester Red Wings Hall of Fame, and will bring the total membership to 80. Hoiles hit .348 with 18 homers for the Wings in 1990, and Mitchell had a 32-14 record and a 3.16 ERA for the O's former AAA affiliate from 1973-1975.

-Though he was passed over by Cooperstown in his first year of eligibility, Roberto Alomar gained entry into the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame. Our neighbors to the north also righted another BBWAA wrong by honoring reliever Paul Quantrill, he said, tongue planted firmly in cheek. Has anyone ever been to the Canadian Hall in St. Mary's, Ontario? Is there a nifty museum?

-On Monday, catcher Dave Criscione was inducted into the Chautauqua County (NY) Sports Hall of Fame. Dave had a seven-game stint with the Orioles in 1977 in which he went 3-for-9 with a walkoff homer. I'd give you the whole story, but that sounds like a future full-length post to me.

Did I miss anyone?

Jeffrey Hammonds, 1994 Upper Deck SP #121

Today, pitchers and catchers reported to Sarasota and Ed Smith Stadium to begin spring training for the Orioles. The world is a little better for it, I'd like to think. I went searching for an image that embodied this time of year and I found Jeffrey Hammonds politely signing what appears to be a Spring Training preview from some newspaper or another. Of course, that's Rafael Palmeiro on the front page, along with a Cardinals player who I believe to be Gregg Jefferies (an odd choice in hindsight, but he did hit .342 the previous season). I'm guessing that this was a St. Petersburg paper, as the O's and Redbirds shared Al Lang Stadium for Grapefruit League purposes from 1991 through 1995.

It's not easy to tell in this way-foily scan, but the teammate signing autographs in the background is none other than Cal Ripken, Jr. Who else would it be?

So play ball already!

Glenn Davis, 1991 Upper Deck #757

The next time you wonder how long the fine sports fans of Baltimore can carry a grudge, consider this: I have a friend who is a fellow card collector. He's been a diehard Orioles fan longer than I've been alive. Although it's been almost 20 years since the ill-fated trade that brought Glenn Davis to Charm City in exchange for three players (Steve Finley, Pete Harnisch, and Curt Schilling) who would go on to play for another 45 combined seasons in the major leagues, this friend throws away and/or destroys any Davis card that comes into his possession. The card you see above is the one and only exception to that rule. He spares this card only because it also features former O's manager and coach Cal Ripken, Sr., who does not deserve the indignity of the scrap heap. I can't argue with his logic, even if I have trouble throwing out any cards myself.

Luke Scott, 2010 Topps #231

Yesterday, my girlfriend Barbara and I started our Valentine's Day off right with breakfast at a small cafe near her house, followed by a quick and relatively bloodless trip to Wal-mart. I've been holding off on buying new cards, hoping vainly that I could do a better job of organizing and storing the ones I already own before I move into my new house next month, but I just had to dip my toes in the water. So I grabbed a 36-card rack pack of 2010 Topps on our way to the checkout, and tore it open as soon as I got in the car.

The card you see above was the first Topps card of the new year for me. I'm hoping it's a good omen, particularly since it took me so blasted long to pull an Oriole out of 2009 Topps last year. As for the card itself, it looks great. I like the design, with the Orioles script large enough to be distinctive, yet placed somewhere relatively out of the way. The little vortex design thingy on the left side of the photo is decent, too. The photo, with Luke Scott celebrating what was likely a home run by giving a little dap to the man upstairs, is pretty unique. You'd probably prefer to see Luke's smiling face, but the picture is framed well and I do like being able to see his name and number on the back of his jersey.

I wish I could place this game, but my best guess is that it's a day game and is not taking place on a Friday (otherwise the O's would have their black alternate jerseys). I think the mook in the second row is wearing a red alternate Red Sox jersey, so we could give him the benefit of the doubt and suppose that the Sawx are the visiting team. If Scott has just gone deep, that narrows it down to two games. On July 1, he took Josh Beckett deep in an eventual 6-5 Oriole loss. On September 20, he touched up Daisuke Matsuzaka in a 9-3 loss. But then again, maybe it wasn't Scott that delivered the big hit. After all, the players in the dugout still seem to be looking out toward the field and applauding another teammate. Ah well, I'm just happy to have this card in my collection.

By the way, I typed in my code for the Million Card Giveaway that I received in this pack. My prize? A 1988 Topps Juan Samuel that I already have. Just another reason for me to dislike the much-maligned current third base coach of the Birds.

Gary Matthews, Jr., 2003 Topps #509

With piles of snow still coating the entire state of Maryland, I've been intending to write about the one snowy Orioles game in my lifetime that I can remember. Fortunately, the Baltimore Sun recently made mention of it to jog my memory.

It was Opening Day - March 31, 2003 - at Oriole Park at Camden Yards. When the game started at 3:05 PM, it was 48 degrees and cloudy, but before long the temperature dropped and snow began to fall in the second inning. According to the Sun, the flurries became so heavy that hitters joked that they were aiming at the largest white blob, assuming it was the ball! In the third inning, the visiting Indians took the lead against starter Rodrigo Lopez on a routine Ellis Burks fly ball to right field. Burks couldn't even see the ball land; neither could O's right fielder Jay Gibbons. After that play, there was a 13-minute snow delay until the worst of the storm passed.

The Birds ended up battling back from a 4-1 deficit to force extra innings, with the help of a Marty Cordova two-run homer in the eighth. Gary Matthews, Jr. turned out to be the hero, reaching in the bottom of the twelfth on a single and scoring the tying run on a passed ball after Cleveland had taken the lead in the top of the inning. He thrilled the few thousand hearty fans that stayed until the end by delivering the game-winning single an inning later.

I have a vague recollection of having seen some of this game. I was a junior in college, and I had gone back to my friend Mike's dorm room with some of our other friends after dinner. As I recall, I was the only big Orioles fan in the group and I asked if I could change the channel to find out the score. It had to be somewhere near 6:30 at night, so I assumed the game would be over. I was surprised to see that the O's were still playing, and even more shocked to see replays of the earlier snow-related mishaps. I managed to catch the end of the game, and was thrilled to be able to celebrate a Baltimore win. Back in those heady days, the team was only working on a five-season streak of losing records, but I was still pessimistic about their chances. After all, they'd just concluded a 98-loss season in 2002 with a heinous 4-32 record down the stretch.

I'm choosing to remain optimistic that we're getting the winter weather out of the way early this year. If the white stuff is still falling at the end of next month, I might lose my mind.

Mike Mussina, 2000 Topps HD #39

The first year that I played Little League baseball, my jersey number was 35. It was a big deal for me because two of my favorite major league players wore that number: Mike Mussina and Frank Thomas. With all due respect to "Moose", I was actually a bigger fan of Frank in those days. To an 11-year-old in the mid-90s, the Big Hurt was just about the coolest guy walking the Earth. He was humongous (6'5", 257 lbs.), he had this icy death glare, he played for a great team with cool uniforms, and all he did was beat the hell out of the ball.

There was something else about Frank Thomas, another reason why I chose the card I did for a post about him: he absolutely murdered Mike Mussina.

Both players spent their entire careers in the American League and were almost perfect contemporaries; Frank debuted with the White Sox in 1990 and played his final game for the A's in 2008, whereas Mike pitched his first game for the Orioles in 1991 and wrapped up his career in 2008 with the Yankees. Unsurprisingly, Thomas faced Mussina more times than any other pitcher. Among hitters, only Manny Ramirez had more plate appearances against Moose. In 96 matchups between the two, Thomas drew 13 walks and had 30 hits, of which 9 were doubles and 9 more were home runs. He drove in 21 runs and had a batting line of .366 AVG/.458 OBP/.805 SLG...that's an OPS of 1.263. It's a testament to Frank's skill that he so thoroughly dominated one of the best pitchers of his generation.

Mussina faced Thomas and the White Sox in his major league debut, and the results were overwhelming one-sided. The Big Hurt went 3-for-3 with a walk, two doubles, and a home run. The homer was the only run scored in a 1-0 Chicago victory. Incidentally, the two stars faced each other for the final time in the second game of the 2008 season, when Thomas' Blue Jays bested Mussina's Yankees 5-2. The slugger went hitless in two official at-bats against his rival, and was also hit a pitch in their final meeting.

Of course, I'm writing about this today because Frank Thomas just announced his retirement last week after failing to catch on with a team during the 2009 season. It's always bittersweet to say farewell to one of your favorite childhood players, but I'm holding out strong hopes that he'll be called to Cooperstown in five years. Even in Frank's era of inflated offense, 495 doubles, 521 home runs, and a batting line of .301/.419/.555 (with a 156 OPS+!) has got to be worth something.