Sets I've completed

Don't mind me.

I'm on vacation, and part of my mission during these few days of freedom is doing card inventory stuff like this. What will probably happen instead is I'll end up painting the back hall or dragged to something my daughter considers "fun." Or both. But while I can, it's inventory time.

There may be more uninteresting posts of this nature for the next few days. Posting also will likely be sporadic. And then I'll hit you with a fantastic post that will make you keep coming back, only to find drivel like this.

Anyway ...

Sets I've completed:

1974 Topps (incl. traded set)

1975 Topps

1976 Topps (incl. traded set)

1978 Topps

1980 Topps

1981 Topps

1982 Topps Traded

1983 Topps (incl. traded set)

1984 Topps

1985 Topps (incl. traded set)

1986 Topps

1988 Topps (incl. traded set)

1989 Topps

1991 Topps (incl. traded set)

2006 Topps (incl. Update set)

2009 Topps

2010 Topps

2008 Topps Allen & Ginter

2009 Topps Allen & Ginter

2010 Topps Allen & Ginter

1981 Drake's Big Hitters

1988 Score

1993 Upper Deck

More to come ...

(1971 Topps, 1972 Topps, 2009 OPC, and a whole mess of uncooperative sets from 2008, I'm coming for YOU).

Group breaks: timing is everything

I used to try to get involved in every single group break that any blogger put out there, and then throw a private little stink fit when someone beat me to the Dodgers in one of them.

I don't do that anymore.

Mostly that's because there are a lot more group breaks than there used to be, and it's because I have figured out that I can't afford to get involved in more than one at a time. I'm OK with that. I don't freak out -- too much -- when someone lands a card that I want in a group break that I chose to skip.

That's not to say I don't have my moments.

Colbey at Cardboard Collections held one of his many group breaks a little while ago, and I didn't get involved because I was broke. The break ended up being a complete Dodger fest. This NEVER happens, not even in breaks in which I'm not involved. Yankeefest. Sure. Bravefest. Definitely. Astrofest. Yeah, even the Astros. But never Dodgers.

After seeing the cards speigel landed from that break, Colbey didn't even get out the sentence "For my next group brea ..." before I said "I CALL DODGERS!!!!!!"

I know. Real mature.

His most recent break was from Topps Chrome, between 1998-2000. That was cool with me. I didn't have a lot of Dodgers from those sets.

Until ...

Dodger cards from those sets started arriving in my mailbox, totally unsolicited, immediately before the break.

This wasn't good. Timing is everything in a group break.

I actually ended up doing OK. Sure there were some Chrome dupes now, but that's not too big of a deal. My 1990 Fleer Dodger dupes point and laugh at my late '90s Chrome Dodger dupes.

Here is what I got that I needed:

1998 Chrome:

1999 Chrome:

2000 Stadium Club Chrome:

I also ended up with a cool insert from '98 Chrome:

Great card. I love the image of the Hall of Fame in the background.

And because Colbey does his group breaks right, he threw in a box of 2010 Upper Deck in the break and pulled me this card:

A serial-numbered card of my favorite player.

Colbey also added the Andre Ethier Walmart Diamond card from this year's Topps that you saw at the top of the post.

The break may have not been packed full of Dodgers as it was in his previous break, but what are you going to do? Unless you're a pack-searcher, part of the charm of collecting is being surprised by what you get. And I actually got some pretty nice cards for the best group break prices around.

Colbey's got another break going with Topps Marquee as the headliner. I find that interesting. But because my car decided that it's owner needed to spend a few hundred bucks on it, I'll be skipping this one, too.

But I'll be watching the results with my hands over my eyes.

This month's edition of "What Tha?"

In these posts, I will explore the moments when the hobby ever so slightly crosses the line from decorum and fellowship into ... "What Tha?"

Don't expect a major rant or sudden feelings of outrage. In fact, all I'm trying to get out of you is a simple: "Dude, that's not cool."

OK ...

I was in the drug store yesterday. As usual, I did a slow scan of the long checkout area, because this particular store sometimes displays baseball cards.

They had some. Rack packs of Heritage and last year's Chrome. Pretty good stuff for a drug store. Especially on this side of town.

But dopey me had to pick up one of those rack packs of "100 Baseball Cards, including 10 Hall  of Famers!" because they're cheap, and because I've done pretty well pulling relics out of the things.

But apparently they save the bastard repack rack packs for the corner drug stores. While the fancy rack packs are hanging 6 feet in the air, living the high life and eyeing the cute checkout girls at Target, the drug store rack packs are dusting the dirty floor at ground level as they watch big Barry groom his nose behind the counter month after month.

The pack I bought there was absolute trash. Ninety percent of it was every junk wax year you can imagine. Almost all cards I have three times over. A generous portion of it was this:

Lovely '91 Fleer.

OK, I know Smed will get on here and say that he actually NEEDS some of those cards. And Bo will join in and ask what everyone has against '91 Fleer.

But the rest of you get me, right?

Also, I don't know if you can make it out but almost every one of those Fleer cards are Padres. Fifteen percent of the pack was Padres cards! A full 15 PERCENT! From 1988-91. How can Padres fans argue that their team should be taken seriously when I pull stuff like this?

But none of the above was the "What Tha?" moment. I mean I've purchased plenty of repack crap in my life.

No, the "What Tha?" moment came about halfway through the pack when this fell out:

Huh? Whazzz this? A guy in a helmet? A baby blue uniform? A football? ... This ... this ... is a FOOTBALL card!

In a pack advertising 100 BASEBALL cards!

I know I've sung the praises of these rack packs in the last year, but I am officially amending my statement.

I recommend the occasional purchase of these 100-card rack packs when you happen to be in TARGET. Target only.

Stay away from the dust eaters at the drug store that employs big Barry.

You don't know what you'll catch.

(P.S.: The home run poll is up on the sidebar).

The epic home run

Before I hit you with the second Cardboard Appreciation tournament and the weekly polls that come with it, I thought I'd squeeze in one more poll before that.

Here's the deal:

I was watching that commercial that's playing during baseball games this season. I can't even tell you what they're trying to sell. Credit cards or drugs or something.

It's that one where they show little kids playing baseball, imitating famous home run moments of the past. The usual stuff: Carlton Fisk in '75 and Kirk Gibson in '88.

That made me think about something that I've thought about before. The Fisk home run in Game 6 of the 1975 World Series is pretty much the epic home run of that decade. (Sure, there was Reggie Jackson in '77, but he hit three of them in Game 6. The drama is in the quantity more than the timeliness). The Gibson home run in Game 1 of the '88 World Series is the epic home run of the '80s (Cardinals fans will argue Ozzie and Royals fans George Brett, but we're trying to be objective here).

There has been one definitive epic home run for each decade going back to the 1950s. Take a gander:

1950s: 1951, Bobby Thomson off of Ralph Branca in special playoff series.

I'd show a Thomson card, but I don't have any, and the Giants are stinking, sign-stealing cheaters. So I have the fine, upstanding Branca to show instead.

1960s: 1960: Bill Mazeroski off Ralph Terry in World Series.

It was a pitcher's decade, so there weren't a lot of epic home runs. And this was the first World Series walk-off ever.

1970s: 1975: Carlton Fisk off Pat Darcy in the World Series

I thought I'd give you a break from the Masterpieces "butt" card. The Red Sox went on to lose this Series, but Game 6 might be the most dramatic Series game ever. Crazy stuff in that game.

1980s: 1988, Kirk Gibson off Dennis Eckersley in World Series.

I still don't believe what I just saw. It was really one of those "brain doesn't compute" moments.

1990s: 1993, Joe Carter off Mitch Williams in World Series

It's stunning how few cards I have of Carter as a Blue Jay. People must have hoarded them after that home run.

That brings me to the decade just past, 2000-09.

It's not easy finding THE epic home run from that decade. It's possible I'm just too close to the decade to review it. But here are the World Series epic homer candidates for that decade:

1. 2001 World Series, Game 4: Derek Jeter's "Mr. November" home run in the 10th inning to win the game and tie the Series against the Diamondbacks.

2. 2001 World Series, Game 5: Scott Brosius' walk-off home run in the 12th inning (each of these HRs came off of Byung-Hyun Kim, remember?) to give the Yankees a win and the Series lead.

3. 2003 World Series, Game 4: Alex Gonzalez's home run in the bottom of the 12th off Jeff Weaver giving the Marlins a 4-3 win over the Yankees.

4. 2005 World Series, Game 2: Scott Podsednik's home run off Brad Lidge in the bottom of the 9th in Game 2, giving the White Sox the victory. Podsednik hadn't hit a homer all regular season.

That's it for the Series. I don't know if I can pick from that. I want to say the Jeter home run, but what makes that more special than the Brosius home run, the fact he he it a couple minutes after midnight?

But if I throw in the Championship Series for the previous decade, that's where things really get interesting, because that's where the drama was the last 10 years.

Some possibilities:

1. 2003 ALCS: Aaron Boone's 11th-inning walk-off home run off the Red Sox's Tim Wakefield in Game 7 to send the Yankees to the World Series
2. 2004 ALCS: David Ortiz's two-run winning home run in the 12th inning in Game 4 against the Yankees, setting stage for Red Sox comeback from 0-3 series deficit.
3. 2004 NLCS: Jim Edmonds' walk-off, two-run home run in the 12th inning of Game 6 in the Cardinals' victory over the Astros.
4. 2005 NLCS: Albert Pujols' monster winning home run off the Astros' Brad Lidge in the 9th inning of Game 5.
5. 2006 ALCS: Magglio Ordonez's three-run home run for the Tigers in the 9th inning of Game 4 against the A's, sending Detroit to the World Series.
6. 2006 NLCS: Yadier Molina's two-run home run in the 9th inning of Game 7 against the Mets, giving St. Louis a 3-1 victory and a trip to the World Series (this came four innings after Endy Chavez's famed catch).
7. 2008 NLCS: Matt Stairs' home run in the eighth inning off of Jonathan Broxton in Game 4, giving the Phillies a 7-5 win.
8. 2009 ALCS: Alex Rodriguez's homer in the 11th inning against the Angels, tying Game 2, which the Yankees would win in 13.

How's that for drama?

I'm not exactly sure how to pick THE epic home run out of that crew. Possibly Aaron Boone?

So I'm going to put up a poll. I will select some (not all) from both the World Series and the Championship Series and let people vote for a week on what THE epic home run was for the first decade of the 21st century. (I refuse to add ALDS moments for consideration. It will just muddy things up).

Then we will send letters to George Will and Thomas Boswell and Ken Burns and Pepsi, and whoever else likes to get all dramatic about our favorite game, and declare that THIS is the home run of the decade. Let there be no dispute. I'll get it copyrighted and everything.

But I'm not going to put up the poll just yet. I'll let anyone who has any opinions on these home runs or others to make their comments. If I think a previously unmentioned home run deserves to be in the poll, then I'll throw it on there in the wee hours when I post the poll.

Who gets to join Bobby Thomson, Bill Mazeroski, Carlton Fisk, Kirk Gibson and Joe Carter?

Poll will be up by the time you rise tomorrow morning.

Cardboard appreciation: 1985 Topps Dennis Quisenberry

(The vacation season is here! Two more days of crap and then work becomes this thing that you merely visit in between doing whatever the hell you want! Here's to all of that. And baseball cards. This is Cardboard Appreciation. The 119th in a series):

The only thing that I can visualize specifically about my girlfriend in 1985 are her boots.

They were those elven boots that were popular with young women at the time. Flat, black boots that fell well short of mid-calf. She wore them all the time.

I also remember that she wore a lot of grayscale clothes. Blacks and whites and, of course, grays. It wasn't because she was dour or anything. In fact she was very positive and upbeat. The best way I can describe her is she was like Punky Brewster, if Punky was 17 years old (I guess that would make her a budding Soleil Moon Frye).

She was a whimsical, spur-of-the-moment type. We worked in the same department store, and I remember one time when we were chatting and a woman came up to us and asked if we had a something or other in stock. Before I could say, "no," Punky said, "we'll have to check in the back." And we spent a really looong time in the stock room. (Don't worry, we were just fooling around).

But, believe it or not, as I describe her, my accompanying visual memory of her is a haze. Except for the boots. And that's because of this one all-too-common fact of life back then: I don't have any pictures of her.

I don't suppose this happens quite as often today, with everyone possessing a cell phone with a camera. Every inch of life gets photographed and broadcast. But back in the mid-1980s, there were no cell phones. There were no digital cameras. There were no videocameras. If you wanted a photograph of someone, you brought along a camera, and if you were really lucky, it was one of those clunky Polaroids that spit out a photo instantly. (Shake it. Shake it, shake it, like a Polaroid picture).

We even received Polaroid cameras as a Christmas gift from the department store where we worked. We thought they were pretty cool. But it's not like anyone carried them around on their person.

So there was this one day when a professional photographer set up shop in the store to take pictures and sell photo packages to families, couples and the like. He was only there for the weekend. Punky wanted a picture of us together, to which I said, "are you crazy? Do you know how much that costs? It's like $40! I don't have $40!"

The pictures never were taken.

The relationship lasted a couple more months. I'd drive her home from work. She lived with her dad in this rather fancy house a couple of miles from my place. I started to get the idea that she didn't buy her clothes (or her boots) at our department store.

She quit her job at the store at the end of March. We stayed in touch. Over the summer, she wrote from her vacation spot in Texas. I still have one of her postcards. Then I quit my job at the store, and left town for college. There was talk of getting back together, but it never happened.

Twenty-six years later, the only visual memory I can trust of her are her boots.

What's this have to do with baseball or cards?

Not much really. I was reminded of my girlfriend and how fleeting memories can be when I was reading an old article last week. It was about the late, great Dan Quisenberry, the former reliever for the Royals. You don't hear much about him anymore.

But during the mid-1980s, he was a gigantic deal. Not only was he piling up saves at a record number. But he was a noted flake and always willing to step in front of a microphone. He was one of those guys that NBC or ABC asked to deliver the lineup for the television audience.

The thing that made Quisenberry most memorable was his delivery. He threw underhanded in a sweeping motion that made me wonder how he got anything over the plate. But then the writer mentioned something that I hadn't thought about in years. He mentioned the Quisenberry hop. After delivering a pitch, Quisenberry's motion would cause him to hop to the right side of the mound. Almost every time. Deliver a pitch. Hop. Deliver a pitch. Hop.

When I read the words from the writer, a visual image popped in my head of Quisenberry hopping. I knew instantly what he was saying. I had seen that hop over and over but hadn't thought about it for decades.

Today, if you want to see Quisenberry pitch, you can consult youtube. And that's what I did, just to confirm the hop that I saw in my head.

Writing is a great tool for that, unearthing a long forgotten image or memory. Music does that, too. Better than anything else. But with a video, there it is. Same with a picture.

I still beat myself up for turning down that photographer's offer to take a picture of the happy couple. Today, 40 bucks is a couple of blasters. Not the big deal it was then.

I have no idea where "Punky" is now. Just as well. I'm sure my wife wouldn't like a photo of a former flame hanging around the house anyway.

Still got the image of the boots. And Quisenberry's hop. And a few other random memories of the mid-80s that will never really go away, but are frustratingly disconnected.

Take every cell phone picture you can, You're going to want to remember it all. ... Well, some of it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the Quisenberry card, 64 Cardboard Appreciation cards have gone by since I determined the first Cardboard Appreciation Hall of Famer, which was the 1991 Topps Carlton Fisk card.

That means it's time to hold another contest for the next CA Hall of Famer!

Beginning next week, I'll be polling everyone over which Cardboard Appreciation cards of the last year-plus are the best until we arrive at a second Hall of Fame selection!

Sound like fun?

No?

Oh come on, polls are the definition of fun.

Except when they involve politics. That's no fun at all.

Cardboard Appreciation, The Review 2 is on its way!

Cards from normal traders

Did you read about that study from a few weeks back? Something about Facebook users getting a skewed view of how much fun people are having "elsewhere" and becoming depressed about their own mundane, boring lives?

It's true that sometimes interaction through the intertubes can give you an altered perception of reality. Take my favorite topic lately, the Diamond Giveaway site. If you did all of your trading through that site, you would think that trading is a cynical exercise, one whose only goal is getting a lot of something for a lot of nothing.

I'd say about 97 percent of the trade offers I get on the site are like that. Either that or a lot of people have an awfully inflated idea of what an '87 Mike Schmidt is worth. Meanwhile, I rarely can get any card that I want on the site unless I offer something of obvious greater value for it.

That is how I received the Andre Ethier Diamond Diecut card yesterday. I gave up the Tommy Hanson diecut and a couple other cards that were nice, but not in my area of interest. Looking at it objectively, the unknown person with whom I traded got the better of the deal. But I'm a Dodger fan, so you can't convince me of that at all. I ruled on this trade. I totally wasted that trader! I'm awesome! They suck. I rule. Party dance commences now ...

(*ahem*)

Trading outside of the giveaway site is something entirely different. Almost all of my trades come with fellow bloggers. And 97 percent of them operate under the much more sane, normal and pleasant philosophy of "give your trade partner something he likes, and get something you like in return." There is no card counting, adding up of book value, or judging whether the cards you're sending are too mojorific and will forever make you a laughing stock in whatever vicious collecting circle in which you reside.

To illustrate, here are few cards sent to me by respective bloggers in response to some pathetic cards that I sent to them. And I didn't send them pathetic cards in an effort to hoodwink anyone. It's just that I have pathetic cards and nobody has caught on yet.

Cards from: Derek of Tomahawk Chopping - Cardboard & More.
What I got: Some 2011 Bowman Dodgers including this gold parallel of today's starter Chad Billingsley.
What I gave up: Some Gypsy Queen cards. I can't even tell you what they were.
Who "won" this trade: There are no winners and losers in this deal, pal. Go back to Diamond Giveaway land.

Cards from: Johnny of Cards From the Quarry
What I got: Some 2008 Timeline cards for my ridiculously futile completion quest. Has anyone completed '08 Timeline? Anyone?
What I gave up: Some Rockies cards and some rookie cup cards (cool collection).
Who "won" this trade: Again, this is not the correct way of looking at trades, but if you insist, I did get this:

Floating heads! I can't help but be a winner when I obtain a couple of disembodied heads!

Cards from: Alfredo of My Pastime ... I Love It!
What I got: This handsome Shawn Green bat card from Leaf Certified, and some other cool Dodgers, including Sweet Spot Maury and Dandy Don, and a '93 Select Eric Young that I've needed for way too long.
What I gave up: It's been awhile, I can't even tell you. I know there were some Marlins in there. A Gaby Sanchez bat card.
Who "won" this trade: I'm not even going to address this question anymore.

Cards from: Chris of Nachos Grande
What I got: This tremendous black mini of Andre Ethier from Gypsy Queen, and some '90s Dodger needs.
What I gave up: A couple Gypsy Queen framed Reds cards and stuff from Chris' many want lists.
Who "won" this trade: Did someone say something? I didn't hear a thing.

Cards from: Shane of Shoebox Legends
What I got: This terrific Sandy Koufax 2011 Topps insert (yes, I know saying "terrific" and "Sandy Koufax" in the same sentence is redundant).

Plus:

The Shoebox has been my source for Billingsley cards since 2009. I don't know how the guy does it.

What I gave up: Some Red Sox, including a Heritage Chrome of the creepy looking Clay Buchholz.
Who "won" this trade: I think I'm going to have to take care of somebody out back.

But before I go, many thanks to all of the people with whom I've traded. Over the years, you've taught me how trades should operate:

Help out a fellow trader. The rest will work itself out.

Team colors: Angels

There is one unmistakable truth about this major league baseball season:

The Dodgers are a bad team.

I'm OK with that. I expected it going into the season, although maybe not on this level. But it's OK. My focus is on seeing a brand new owner in the executive offices as soon as they can get McCourt to slither out of his gold-encrusted hole.

What I'm not OK with is an unmistakable truth that has gone on for the last 15 years.

The Dodgers cannot beat the Angels.

Interleague play is bad enough without the Dodgers getting a six-game lesson in failure every year. How am I supposed to work up any enthusiasm for Selig's pointless gift to the fans when my team goes in the tank every June because they have a mental block over the Angels?

The Dodgers just completed another futile series in Anaheim, scrambling to come back in the 9th inning to salvage one game of the three. They'll face the Angels again this weekend and we'll see what sub-.500 record they arrive at when the series ends.

So far, they are 1-2 against the Rally Monkeys. That brings the Dodgers' record against the Angels since interleague play began to 35-48. They have managed above .500 records against the Angels in only 1997, 1999 and 2006.

As your typical Dodger fan, who considers the Angels an "underling" team, this is particularly painful. But I suppose that's what the Dodgers get for not hiring Mike Scioscia as manager. Big Mike's never going to let his foot of our neck for that, is he?

For the first part of my rooting life, the Angels were a sad team with two really great pitchers (Ryan and Tanana), who chased around free agents. They got good in the late '70s and into the '80s, and I rooted for them most of the time. But now they are the team with the ridiculous name that the Dodgers can't beat. I don't like them anymore.

As for the Angels' team colors, I'm sure that the final tally will show that Topps considers the Angels' team colors as red and blue, mostly because Topps woke up to the proper colors to attribute to teams around the late '80s.

But when I was a kid, I associated the color pink with the Angels, because that's the color that Topps used often with Angels cards in the '70s. Pink was not a cool color in the '70s.

Anyway, let's see the breakdown for the years in which Topps used certain colors based on the team that was featured:

1964: green
1965: light blue, yellow and red
1966: lavender
1967: light green
1968: lavender
1969: lavender
1971: light blue and orange
1972: orange, light green and blue
1974: pink
1976: pink and gold
1977: pink, yellow and green
1978: pink and green
1979: yellow, red and green
1980: blue, pink and red
1981: green, blue and red
1982: blue and brown
1983: red and purple
1984: red and yellow
1985: yellow, light blue and red
1986: red
1987: red
1988: red, blue and light blue
1989: pink, purple and yellow
1991: red and blue
1992: red, blue and yellow
1993: yellow, blue and red
1994: blue
1998: red
2000: light blue
2002: red and blue
2003: red and blue
2004: red and blue
2005: red and blue
2006: red and blue
2007: red and blue
2008: red and blue
2009: red
2010: red (except for the Howie Kendrick card, which features blue)
2011: red

Angels team colors: red and blue.
What Topps thinks are the Angels team colors: red and blue.

There sure are a lot of those red-and-blue teams, aren't there?

Go easy on us this weekend, Mike.

(The tally: Red-24, Blue-16, Yellow-8, Green-5, Light Blue-5, Pink-5, Lavender-3, Light Green-2, Orange-2, Purple-2, Brown-1, Gold-1)