Binders for Brewers, Part II

Back in February, Dave the Card Junkie and I made a trade where I gave Dave binders and pages from the massive Christmas Horde in exchange for my getting cards. We did the same thing last weekend.

With Roger's one-man show in town on Dave's side of town, I convinced him to drive the twenty minutes to meet me at the hotel where Roger sets up and take more binders and pages off my hands. He then handed me a massive stack of Brewers in a paper bag. It wasn't exactly clandestine or furtive, but it was still exciting for me to get those cards!

So, to thank Dave, I scoured his Twitter feed for songs that he had posted there. After all, doesn't 44 minutes of prog rock featuring a flautist deserve as much publicity as possible?

Of course it does.

I can think of no player better suited with an introduction of a self-indulgently long prog rock song than Jeromy Burnitz. I'm not sure why that seems appropriate, but it does. Burnitz reminds me of an outfielder version of Dan Uggla -- very much a bro -- who would apparently empty out bottles of shampoo in the showers on road trips after the last game of the series and pee in them. 

Oh, you're such a funny guy, Jeromy!

Burnitz was still a very good homerun hitter in his travels around the major leagues playing with seven different teams (four in Flushing, bits of two seasons with Cleveland, a year each with Colorado, Pittsburgh, the Dodgers, and the Cubs, and six in Milwaukee). He was an All-Star once in Milwaukee and actually started the 1999 game in place of the injured Tony Gwynn. He even finished second in the Home Run Contest to Ken Griffey Jr.

A little morning Black Sabbath is a great way to wake up. Geezer Butler on bass really runs every Sabbath song. Yeah, Tony Iommi's lead guitar is really distinctive, but when you hear that underside of each song -- the thumping bass -- you know who is really in charge.

These three guys tended to be the understudies for the Brewers' stars of the time during which they played with the team. Of the three, the only one who ever led any Brewers team in WAR was, perhaps surprisingly, Corey Hart in 2007. Augustine really had only two decent seasons -- his first two in the major leagues -- while Nilsson was always behind Jeff Cirillo, or John Jaha, or Ricky Bones, or Greg Vaughn, or B.J. Surhoff, or all of the above in his years in Milwaukee.

Watching the MLB Draft's first couple of rounds on Thursday night was like watching NBA Draft coverage from about 15 years ago or so. I say that because the random assortment of "experts" that MLB Network compiled engaged in the most obvious of lazy comparisons when talking about players. The tall, African-American centerfielder from Atlanta had to be a Jason Heyward comparison. The good-hitting catcher with questions about his fielding was, of course, Kyle Schwarber's younger twin. If a player was white, he would only be compared to white players. If the player was black, then only black players would be comparable.

If MLB is going to be that way, then I will post Rickie Weeks cards with Robert Johnson's music. To be fair, posting old blues songs and then putting up cards of Ryan Braun just doesn't feel right.

Here's a new one on me. Well, okay, to be fair, I'd never listened to that Jethro Tull song before, but at least I'd heard of the band. I've never heard of the The Avalanches before. This video is just incredibly weird. Perhaps, to appreciate the song, it might be better to read something else and not pay attention to the video at all. 



Sort of like how I pay no attention any more to any of the Ryan Braun haters out there. I could get all worked up and point to the fact that Braun just took steroids rather than beating up his girlfriend or wife, or being a swimmer-rapist with a Stanford scholarship, or being a racist presidential candidate or a lying dissembling presidential candidate, or being any number of far scarier, more morally reprehensible people. 

I'm really excited for when Mets fans have to hold their nose and cheer for him when the Brewers trade Braun and Lucroy to New York for Zack Wheeler, Travis d'Arnaud, Dominic Smith, and a lottery ticket like Jhoan Urena or Andres Gimenez (who are both so far away from the majors at this point that they can be nothing more than a lottery ticket)...or, when the Yankees trade Aaron Judge, Luis Severino, Domingo Acevedo, and Gary Sanchez for the two and turn Lucroy into a first-baseman to replace Teixeira.

Hahahahahahahaha!

WARNING: 

If you have epilepsy, you shouldn't watch this next video. It consists of 3:39 of the photo above repeatedly illuminated by strobe lights.

Les Claypool is another notable bass player, having come to prominence in the 1990s with the band Primus. This song is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, as it features a lot of overdubbed vocals, a fair amount of repetition, lots of self-sampling, and it isn't exactly melodic.

Not exactly melodic describes Milwaukee Brewers baseball perfectly in the time that Ben Sheets was in his pomp. The team did well in 2008 with him -- and that was his last season of making a regular rotation turn. Indeed, that season almost certainly was the death knell of Sheets's career. He threw 198-1/3 innings and got the team to the playoffs, yet he did not get to enjoy pitching in the playoffs due to a torn elbow muscle. After that injury, he threw just 168-2/3 innings over the rest of his career in 29 starts -- 20 in Oakland in 2010 and 9 in Atlanta in 2011.

A little Radiohead to close things out here. This is from Radiohead's newest album, "A Moon Shaped Pool." In typical Radiohead-fashion, it's a bit abstract. The video looks like the old Rudolph shows with stop-motion animation going on, though this is probably done with computers, if I had to guess. 

When Dave handed me the bag of Brewers, he said, "I hope that you like Geoff Jenkins." Now having 170 Geoff Jenkins cards in my PC for him, that answer is "yes, I do indeed." I have to admit, though, that my favorite card amongst these Jenkins cards is that minor league card of Jenkins with the Tucson Toros. 

For whatever reason, I'm starting to get drawn more and more to the minor league cards. It's probably the rebuild that's ongoing in Milwaukee currently that has me scouring the minor leagues. But, even as a kid, I loved reading the old Baseball Digest prospect wrap-ups each year. I'm not a rookie-card chaser, to be fair, but I love reading about and finding out about prospects.

Thanks, Dave, for the great cards. I hope you enjoy those binders.

Imploding Want Lists: Incoming Cards from "Remember the Astrodome"

My headline is misleading. The Astrodome has not been imploded -- just some ramps that were added in 1989 to ease internal traffic in the concourses and to ensure compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).

The "Eighth Wonder of the World" opened to great fanfare in 1965 -- a symbol that man could build buildings which would allow baseball to be played in the syrupy humid, regularly raining, and stultifying hot climate that is Houston, Texas, by creating an indoor stadium that is air conditioned, dehumidified (somewhat), and, eventually, employed fake grass (since real grass would not grow in the Dome).  

The Dome was a trendsetter.  Within 15 years, circular multipurpose domes popped up in Detroit, New Orleans, Seattle, Indianapolis, and Minneapolis.  The Dome was also the first to feature an animated scoreboard -- a feature which sounds quaint in today's "largest HD screen on the face of the planet" systems such as the one in Jacksonville's EverBank Field.

This year -- specifically, April 9 -- marks the 50th anniversary of the Astrodome's opening. Despite being closed for building code violations in 2008 by the City of Houston, no one knows quite what to do with the building. 

Voters in Houston in 2013 turned down a bond referendum that would have provided money enough to turn the Astrodome into a multipurpose entertainment facility. Yet, neither implosion nor demolition appear to be in the cards, as even that option would cost a significant amount of money.  Noted land use think-tank The Urban Land Institute yesterday released its report that made several recommendations regarding the Astrodome's future.  It does not sound much different than previous recommendations, which means it will cost hundreds of millions of dollars to implement.  

Still, it's worth saving in many people's eyes. Indeed, the National Trust for Historic Preservation added the Astrodome to its 11 Most Endangered Historic Places list in 2013.  Rest assured, something will be done with the Dome soon -- the adjacent "NRG Stadium," the corporate-sponsored home of the Houston Texans that sits right next door to the Astrodome, is scheduled to host the 51st Super Bowl in 2017.  The City of Houston does not want a derelict hulk next door.  

But what will be done?  What should be done?

In the spirit of revitalization -- and to end what might be my most labored introduction to a trade post ever -- I received a great bunch of cards from Bru, the man responsible for putting me on the National Trust for Historic Preservation website, for his excellent blog, Remember the Astrodome.  Nearly a month ago now, I received an incredible package of cards from Bru with the following note:

Houston's loss of a card shop turned into a MAJOR gain for me.  How major?  Let's start with the recent cards -- which, to be fair, were certainly the lesser lights in this package.

The Segura is just a regular Topps Heritage card -- one I did not have, of course, but just a base card.  The Lohse is the Blue serial numbered Opening Day Parallel from last year. Again, another card I did not have. 

I've told on myself sometimes in the past that, as a little kid in the late 1970s, my cards were toys and not "save the card good condition money money money value worth something some day" as cards became later.  So, a lot of my cards from as late as 1982 had some wear and tear that necessitates some upgrades.

So, Bru helped there too.  A couple of 1982 Donruss cards to help upgrade a Hall of Famer and add the Brewers' first Diamond King to my team collection:

Gorman was all about those homers.  And, let's be fair -- in 1982, Dick Perez still had his fastball in terms of his drawing ability.  He scribbled those suckers out as time passed, and the players started looking more like the Panini Triple Play stickers from 2012 than like themselves.  But 1982 -- even though it was just the start -- were some of the best.

Bru also upgraded a ton of 1979 cards for me:

Not a bad haul at-- wait, there's more?

Oh yes, there is more.  A second year card of Hall of Famer Paul Molitor.  At some point in the near future, I am going to feel the need to look into the incessant position shifting that the Brewers seem to enjoy putting their best players through, but note for now that Molitor came up as a shortstop.

Bru also sent a card from 1975 that I needed to complete my team set from Topps Regular Sized from that year:

Where's that kid who drew the beards on the rookie pitchers to fix this card?  There's all kinds of weird going on here.  Gorman Thomas being clean shaven.  Gorman Thomas wearing #44 -- and yes, he wore it just before Hank Aaron joined the team.  Thomas then switched to #3 -- visible on his 1977 card -- before switching to his later trademark #20.  

In many trade packages either the 1979 Molitor or the 1975 Thomas would be the piece de resistance.  But not when we are talking about remembering an iconic building such as the Astrodome.  Oh no. 

Remember, Paul Molitor came up as a Shortstop.  So did Alan Trammell and the very aptly named Mickey Klutts and the for-once toothpick-less U.L. Washington.  

When I laid eyes on this card -- the last one I needed for my 1978 Topps Brewers team set -- I was blown away. The card I have in my Molitor PC is the same one I have had since 1978, and it was always a cherished card because of that fact.  From the earliest date that I had real 9-pocket sheets -- sideloaders, in fact -- that Molitor card was always in the sheets.  

And now, thanks to Bru, I have two.

Bru, thank you for the great package of cards and for the excuse to dig into things like urban preservation issues!

When The Mail Runs Out...

I was incredibly lucky during August in terms of blogging material. I started the month with the Gint-A-Cuffs contest. I probably could have drawn that out for 25 posts, but I was impatient and blew through all 24 packs and the boxloader in 8 posts. But, it was blogging material for the dog days of Summer.

Then, in the time that GAC was going on, envelopes started showing up in my mailbox. Some were a part of trades, others contained contest winnings, and some were just bloggers being really nice and sending me stuff. That all came to an end after Sunday's post. 

Since then, I've been thinking about that eternal question that many of us face: what in the world am I going to write about? I kept hoping that another envelope would appear -- nothing so far -- so I decided to write about my player collections.  I have a ton of them -- 41 to be exact. I've written a lot about Molitor, Yount, and Carter.  But, why do I have a PC for, say, Bob McClure?

I wonder that to myself sometimes. So, now, I'm going to try to explain some of these collections.

I'm a Brewers fan for obvious reasons -- growing up 30 miles from Milwaukee County Stadium in the 1970s and 1980s in an area too rural for cable companies to care about until literally the mid-1990s meant that my baseball was entirely local until I got to college. Even then, my mindset -- my fandom -- had been determined already.  

By the time I started caring about the team and consciously remember things, it was 1978 and I was 6 years old.  I guess I repressed that 1977 season. But a quick glance at the 1978 Brewers roster provides some key insight already into my PCs:

Most Appearances at Catcher: Charlie Moore

Charlie was always a favorite -- even early on. His willingness to play wherever the team needed him, his genuine humility, and the joy with which he played the game made him easy to root for. He stands fifth all-time in games played with the Brewers with 1283. He was never a star, never a power hitter, never a speedster, and hit over .300 just twice -- in 1979 and in 1981 (in just 48 games and 156 at-bats).  

But Charlie was an easy addition to my collection for all of those reasons. He was patient with fans and with kids especially, finding time to sign autographs before and after games. He played with a smile on his face and a desire to do anything to win. Not to say that those particular attributes make a player a successful player -- they don't. Yet being that kind of player makes it easy for the hometown fans to cheer for you.

Opening Day Starter: Jerry Augustine

As I mentioned about Augie on the 1982 Topps blog, he was never really among my favorite players as a kid. So why am I collecting him now -- especially since he was a mop-up man of the highest order?

When I got back into collecting, I thought for a long time about how I would go about determining which players I would collect and why. To be honest, I've always been a fan of hitters and not pitchers. So, when I looked at the list of Brewers pitchers all time, I was struck by the fact that only five pitchers in Brewers' history lasted 10 or more seasons with the team -- Jim Slaton, Bill Wegman, Moose Haas, Bob McClure, and Jerry Augustine.

I thought about this further. Augustine was one of two "local boys" whose entire careers were spent in Milwaukee (with Jim Gantner being the other). There's something to be said for carving out a career with your hometown team as a lefty mop-up junkballer who grew up north of the Mason-Dixon Line.  So, into the player collections went the Augustine cards.  

Besides -- what's wrong with a little love for a complete scrub whose saving grace was a gargantuan contract handed to him in an overreaction by the owner afraid that the Wisconsin boy would leave home?

One more from 1978 for tonight:

All-Star Game Starter: Don Money

Don Money was elected to the All-Star game as a starter. Seriously. In fact, he was an All-Star four times for the Brewers in the 1970s.  In 1978, he was a Tony Phillips-type long before Tony Phillips was. He played 61 games at first, 36 games as second, 25 games at third, 2 games at shortstop, 15 games at DH, and pinch hit 6 times.  According to WAR, he was only the sixth-best player on the surprising third-place team that season -- 4.8 WAR for Money put him behind Mike Caldwell (8.1), Sal Bando (5.6), Larry Hisle (5.3), Lary Sorensen (5.0), and Robin Yount (5.0).

Money's play at those various positions allowed the Brewers to account for injuries, days off, and platoons around the diamond. In fact, the only player to play more than 150 games that season for Milwaukee was Sal Bando. With staying reasonably fresh that season, Money got minor MVP consideration for his .293/.361/.440 season.  It was his last season that he played over 100 games for Milwaukee, but he stayed with the Brewers for 11 total years and 1196 games. That number put him 7th all time in appearances for Milwaukee -- fitting for the guy who wore number 7.

Money was an underrated minor star of the 1970s who was okay with being a role player on those great Milwaukee teams of the early 1980s. He was an early favorite for his veteran leadership and for being an All-Star.

*                    *                    *

That's three guys I collect and some of the reasons why I collect them. I collect them because they were childhood heroes or friendly, nice guys, or just were the local boy who hung around for a while. 

And I'll gladly take your Don Moneys, Charlie Moores, and Jerry Augustines if you don't want them.