Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Miinnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiii trilogy, part 2
The second part of the '75 Mini Trilogy that happened upon my porch early last week doesn't involve a trade with a fellow blogger. But I wouldn't be sitting here babbling about it if it weren't for Scott Crawford on Cards.
A little while ago, Scott clued me in on an ebay auction in which a lot of '75 minis was for sale. The price was right under normal circumstances. But unfortunately, I was in austerity mode at the time and I had to let it pass with a note of thanks.
Weeks went by and I finally had some cash to spare. Since the auction was a BIN, I checked to see if it was still around. It was. With just a couple of days to spare.
I pulled the trigger and for 25 bucks I had me some '75 minis.
This is the point where you might be saying, "Night Owl, you got hosed. 25 bucks for a card like that? Do you know that thing is both miscut and diamond cut? There are about 14 things wrong with it on first glance."
Yeah, I know. Isn't it wonderful?
But just to keep your mind at ease, there were regulation-size minis in the lot, too (how can a '75 mini be regulation size? Isn't it the opposite of regulation size? Oh, don't bother me with your logic).
In fact, there were 53 regulation-size minis and they did a whale of a job on my want list. How whale? Well have a look, and make sure you stay until the end. I've hid the best card there:
Here is the fantastic airbrushed assault on Rudy May, the disorientingly off-center Rowland Office, the rookie cup of Greg Groooooooooss, and a desperately needed Messersmith Victory leaders mini for my Dodger collection.
There you see the much-coveted Felix Millan card of my childhood, the shoplifted-as-a-youth Dave Nelson card, plus Skip Lockwood's cap is airbrushed but the hill/mountain is real. You'd think it'd be just the opposite.
More airbrushed madness with Johnson and Tomlin, a deranged-looking Bob Hansen, and Mr. Frias, who threw us into fits of laughter as kids because his name was "Pepe."
Possibly the most colorful card ever in the Dick Green item, the "cmon he's not a ballplayer" card of Roger Nelson, and a remarkably clean checklist on the back of the Red Sox team card.
So much fun.
There were several other minis that I'm not showing here and a few dupes that likely will pop up in trades I have a feeling.
But I want to show one last nine-card page before I lose everybody.
As the French say, it's the piece you cannot resist ... or something like that:
That's a lot of star power, but of course the brightest star is the Robin Yount rookie in the middle.
I was pretty convinced that Yount and Brett would be the last two minis I would need to finish off this set, which I might add is proving to be a little easier to accumulate given how often I've heard how rare it is over my entire collecting life.
But now the Yount -- in remarkably decent shape -- is mine. And, if you divide the lot up equally, it was had for 47 cents.
This is why I don't give Beckett my money.
As for the miscut Bucky Dent on the top of the post, I suppose you've been dying to find out who also shares the card with Dent.
Well, I've been dying anyway.
We know it's an Astro, of course. But the pink-letters-on-yellow background only narrows it down to Larry Dierker, Jerry Johnson, Milt May or Don Wilson.
For the answer, we turn the card over to the ever-valuable back.
And then we turn to the 1975 Topps (It's Far Out) blog to search for the cartoon with the top of a batter's head.
Presto. Milt May shares the card with Russell Earl Dent!
Yep, the whole damn thing was totally worth my 25 bucks.