(A few things that celebrating Steelers fans will appreciate this morning: antacids, coffee, and a little peace and quiet. Maybe some baseball cards will take your mind off of how many pieces of pizza you consumed last night. It's time for Cardboard Appreciation. This is the 16th in a series):
I was suckered into believing in a lot of things when I was a kid: The Easter Bunny. Courderoy Pants. That writing on your hands was cool. That Erik Estrada was a real member of the California Highway Patrol (You mean there really isn't a Frank Poncherello?).
My mom had me terrified that some guy in sunglasses and driving a black Cadillac would pull alongside me as I was walking to school, offer me some candy and then drag me away. I was looking for that guy every day on my way to and from school from third to fifth grade. He never showed up.
But perhaps the biggest lie foisted upon me came during the 1979 baseball postseason. For two weeks in October, they had me believing that the guy pictured on this card, the one who looks like you could use his legs to stir cake batter, was the most devastating relief pitcher in the world.
As a grown-up, looking at Tekulve now, I don't believe he saved three games in the World Series that year. He's a rail of a man, dressed in goldenrod from head to toe, wearing glasses to match, and featuring a square cap decorated with yellow "good job" stars. You may have fooled me then, but you're not fooling me now. Who really saved those games in '79?
It's strange how we liked our ballplayers in the late '70s, isn't it? I have to wonder if Tekulve would make it in the game today. But that's what makes that time period great. You didn't have to be a weight room junkie to succeed in baseball. You just needed a submarine delivery, an ability to pitch in 90 games, and be willing to dress like an idiot.
Tekulve, apparently, is now a television analyst for Pirates games. I'm assuming he dresses a lot more conservatively these days.
Here's to more colorful times, more colorful players and more colorful cards. 1981 Topps Kent Tekulve, I appreciate you.
I was suckered into believing in a lot of things when I was a kid: The Easter Bunny. Courderoy Pants. That writing on your hands was cool. That Erik Estrada was a real member of the California Highway Patrol (You mean there really isn't a Frank Poncherello?).
My mom had me terrified that some guy in sunglasses and driving a black Cadillac would pull alongside me as I was walking to school, offer me some candy and then drag me away. I was looking for that guy every day on my way to and from school from third to fifth grade. He never showed up.
But perhaps the biggest lie foisted upon me came during the 1979 baseball postseason. For two weeks in October, they had me believing that the guy pictured on this card, the one who looks like you could use his legs to stir cake batter, was the most devastating relief pitcher in the world.
As a grown-up, looking at Tekulve now, I don't believe he saved three games in the World Series that year. He's a rail of a man, dressed in goldenrod from head to toe, wearing glasses to match, and featuring a square cap decorated with yellow "good job" stars. You may have fooled me then, but you're not fooling me now. Who really saved those games in '79?
It's strange how we liked our ballplayers in the late '70s, isn't it? I have to wonder if Tekulve would make it in the game today. But that's what makes that time period great. You didn't have to be a weight room junkie to succeed in baseball. You just needed a submarine delivery, an ability to pitch in 90 games, and be willing to dress like an idiot.
Tekulve, apparently, is now a television analyst for Pirates games. I'm assuming he dresses a lot more conservatively these days.
Here's to more colorful times, more colorful players and more colorful cards. 1981 Topps Kent Tekulve, I appreciate you.
Comments
I wasn't a very bright kid.
For Andy's question on the runner.... Tekulve pitched in 3 daytime games against the Mets in New York in 1980: June 7 (Sat.) and a June 8 doubleheader (your closer pitches 1 1/3 in the opener and 3 IP in the nightcap...)
June 7 game, John Stearns (#12) stole 2nd and was available for the photo. In the June 8 game, runners on 2nd were Frank Taveras (#11), Steve Henderson (#5), Ron Hodges (#42) and Elliott Maddox (#21).
I'm going with Hodges in the 8th inning of the 1st game on 6/8/80 while Tekulve is pitching to either Maddox, Doug Flynn or Ed Glynn right after Hodges stole a base. I think there's a 2 behind that 4 and the #'s on the Mets' uniforms were off to the side somewhat....