Night Owl Cards

  Vida Blue died yesterday. For any kid who grew up following baseball in the 1970s, this is a big loss. Vida Blue had the name of a superhero, and he might as well have been one during the early-to-mid 1970s. A pure power pitcher in a golden uniform, no kid could ignore that. Blue had a colorful name, uniform and career. Maybe best of all, his cards are colorful, too. This is my favorite Vida Blue card. It ticks every box on the rainbow.   If I'm being super-accurate, though, my favorite is probably his '75 mini.   This is my second favorite. I'm sure it's a lot of others' favorite. I completely understand. It's an iconic card. One of the best. A Cardboard Appreciation Hall of Famer . I've written about this card ... and Blue ... many times. My two favorites come together on one card that is straight out my first year of collecting cards. There it is in all of its glory. It's now framed with an assortment of other 1975 cards that I pulled out of the fir

OK, ever since 2012 I've made a lot of noise about never attempting to complete another modern set again. This is still my general feeling and I am reminded that it's a good feeling when I read things like how Opening Day has variations again . But then how do I explain -- mr. smarty pants -- me trying to complete 2013 Allen and Ginter? Huh? Huh? Huuuuuuuuuuuuuh???? Well, you got me there. The only thing I can say is -- and this is a rationalization -- is that there are certain sets that rise above. They rise above all the nonsense that hovers around card sets these days. Short-prints, variations, online exclusives, etc. Sure, those "rise above" sets may include some of the very things that caused me to put on the breaks and go in reverse about 30 years, but I don't notice them as much because the set is too awesome. I suppose this is the way to still get me to collect a modern set. Don't make it crap. Make it interesting enough that I don't

I really have no time for anything not connected to the job today (and it's my day off, so explain THAT). But I wanted to get the unpleasantness on the sidebar out of the way. For the first time ever, a vote for the greatest '70s card has ended in a tie. Here are the vote totals for my man, Vida Blue: 1971 Topps: 23 votes 1973 Topps: 23 votes 1974 Topps: 8 votes 1975 Topps: 6 votes 1976 Topps: 1 vote 1977 Topps: 1 vote 1978 Topps: 1 vote 1979 Topps: 1 vote 1972 Topps: 0 votes Good gracious I hate ties. Ties are the reason we have annoying gimmicks like penalty kicks and shootouts. And why college football suddenly turns into a "25 yards out" travesty that hardly resembles the previous four quarters. (I nearly alerted someone the first time I watched an extra-inning high school softball game and saw a player magically appear on second base. I thought they were cheating). The '73 Topps Vida jumped out to an early lead, which I thought might happe

Good news kiddies! I've actually packaged up some cards for people! And they're sitting on a desk behind me right this very minute! This means, of course, that I've found enough money for packaging supplies but not enough to actually ship them. I'm hopeful Friday will change that. We shall see. But onto the other good news: we officially have our third inductee into the Cardboard Appreciation Hall of Fame! Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!! (yeah, I know. Too loud for a Monday). As expected, 1971 Vida Blue waltzed peaceably into the Hall with zero challenge from the ghostly '74 Dave Kingman card. The vote totals in the finale: 1. 1971 Topps Vida Blue: 42 votes 2. 1974 Topps Dave Kingman: 15 votes (57 total votes) Well done, Vida. I will add Blue's card to the Hall just as soon as I have a free moment. Thanks everyone for playing and voting. We'll do another round of Hall voting once I go through the proper amount of Cardboard A

(OK, one more chance to enter my 2,000th post contest. I hope to be adding up the results in the next couple of days and revealing a winner. But first, it's Cardboard Appreciation time. It's the 142nd in a series): To me, this is among the most memorable cards in collecting history. It is my era's 1986 Donruss Jose Canseco  or 2001 Bowman Chrome Albert Pujols. I wasn't collecting in 1971. I was only five. But I knew about this card from my earliest stages in the hobby. Vida Blue's smile, his combination pitching pose/peace gesture, his epic 1971 season at the age of 22, made this an epic card, even if it was one I could only admire from afar. But since I've completed the 1971 set, I can now admire it right in my hands. Here, let me turn it over to the back: Vida's still smiling. But you can see by the stats, he hasn't achieved very much in the majors, entering his breakout '71 season (although the blurb mentions that no-hitter at the

Of all the vintage Topps sets, 1971 holds the greatest mystique. It has been that way from childhood to adulthood for me. The '71 cards were the first "old" cards I ever knew, possessed by older boys in the neighborhood. They were mysterious. The look of the cards added to the mystique, the pitch-black borders, and the bright, neon fonts. As someone attracted to dusk-till-dawn occurrences, this intrigued me at an early age. As an adult, and a collector, '71 Topps held its aura, mostly because of the great Hall of Famers and all-stars who played before my time and because of the high numbered series, which were difficult to obtain and often way out of my price range. The '71 set has been like a wall that I have never been able to bust through. But, finally, I am breaking through. Maybe not Rodney McCray style . But much slower. Over the last few years, I have acquired most of the '71 set, both on my own and thanks to great collectors across the count