Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Fran is not what he seems
Just a short post today. That whole contest thing -- especially the last post -- wore me out thoroughly.
A few days ago, I was placing the 1977 Topps cards that I received from Max in my brand new 1977 Topps binder (it makes me giddy just typing that) when I came to this Fran Healy card. It was the last one I was putting in the binder.
Since I put my binder sets in order by the number on the back, I turned Healy over to look at its number. You know, like a newly acquired kitty from the animal shelter.
"No. 3?" My brain said, trying to compute.
But I didn't question it any more. I merely paged to the front of the binder to position my Healy card.
Of course, I should have known, and when I reached the front I realized, that the first few cards of a set in the mid-to-late '70s were reserved for highlight and league leader cards. There were no player cards for the first 6 or 7 cards.
And there the league leaders cards were at the front of my '77 binder, staring me in the face.
My brain, fully switched on by now, began to do the math. ...
"No, there's no French."
"Could it be? I think it could! Wait ..."
I ran to my 1993 Beckett baseball card price guide because I was too lazy to page through my giant, more current, Standard Catalog of Baseball Cards, yet not lazy enough that I couldn't run through the house for a publication about cards.
And there it was ...
No. 3 Fran Healy is part of the 1977 Burger King Yankees set.
It's a Burger King card!!!!
The 11-year-old in me is still dancing.
(By the way, how great is the notation "mouth closed"?)
Burger King cards were the ultimate coveted cards when I was kid. I wrote about them once before, showing off the only Burger King card I had at the time (I have a couple others now).
And now I have one more.
Unfortunately, Healy is in the exact same pose as he is in the Topps 1977 set where he is card No. 148. A card I still need by the way.
There are a lot more interesting cards in this set. Jimmy Wynn as a Yankee, Willie Randolph with no rookie cup. Thurman Munson's facsimile autograph misspelled (wha?). Lou Piniella issued apart from the rest of the set (I knew a kid who had that card).
Oh well, Healy always was the dull, straight man to Phil Rizzuto in the broadcast booth.
The 11-year-old still thinks it's cool.
Healy is now in position No. 3 in my '77 Topps binder until I track down that other No. 3, the Lee May-George Foster RBI League Leaders card.
Have it my way? I think I will.