"The Top 100": Honorable Mentions

Well, the time is almost here.

I'm in the final stages of comprising my official "Top 100" list that I promised all of you last month.

The first step was listing all the possible choices. I underestimated that one, as my initial list consisted of well over 700 cards.

After all that, I had to cut it down to the top 100. It wasn't an easy task, to say the least.

As the list grew shorter and shorter, the cards I was forced to "cut" pained me more and more.

With a few days of deliberation, I finally did it. I have my hundred cards. All that's left to do is rank them accordingly. (A task that probably sounds a lot easier than it actually is.)

What you'll be seeing in tonight's post is the last ten cards I was forced to cut from the semi-official "Top 100" list.

The "honorable mentions".

Pablo Ozuna probably isn't someone you'd expect to make an appearance on a list like this. Yet that's part of what I loved most about creating this list.

The name alone gets you nowhere. It's the card that matters.

As a result, Ozuna came awfully close to cracking the "Top 100" with his awesome 2006 UD issue.

I can't help but think of a superhero whenever I see this card, one who leaps into the air to put a tag on Eric Byrnes. (In what appears to be a spring training game, no less.)

While it wasn't easy, this one didn't quite make it.

Sorry, Mr. Ozuna.

Some of you might remember this as a former "impulse buy" of mine.

Judging from what Fleer captured on the front of this card, both George Brett and Gaylord Perry were able to laugh at the now-infamous "Pine Tar Incident".

That's got to count for something.

I love the look of mischief on Brett's face. Perry as a Kansas City Royal is one of my favorites from the "Short Term Stops" category as well.

It wasn't easy, but this one just couldn't cut it in the end.

Still, there's a good bet that you'll see Brett make an appearance in the "Top 100" at some point, though...

Pete Rose's claiming of the "All-Time Hit King" title in '85 is still one of the defining moments in baseball history.

Surprisingly, it was Donruss who managed to do the best job of capturing it on cardboard.

The only thing that stopped this one from securing a spot in the "Top 100" was the fact that '86 Donruss is one of the worst card designs in history.

Still, it's safe to say that anything from the "Record Breakers" category makes for an awesome baseball card.

Speaking of which...

Yes, even the capture of arguably the most hallowed record in baseball was left off the list.

Ripken is one of the more "cardogenic" ballplayers out there. Anything depicting "Game #2,131" is a piece of baseball history.

It's a good bet that most of the people who witnessed that event first-hand knew they were seeing something special. I'm sure Ripken's Orioles teammates knew it as well. One of them is even taking a video of the event in the background.

If I was ranking the "Top 101" or possibly "Top 102", this one probably would've made it. 

Unfortunately for the "Iron Man", it just doesn't work that way.

Christy Mathewson pitched in 636 games during his career.

A total of 635 of those came with the Giants.

This one captures "Matty" during his one-game pitching stint with the Reds, where he'd pick up the last of his 373 career wins. (He'd manage the Reds from 1916 to 1918 as well.)

One game is about as "short term" a stop as there is.

While you're bound to see a few favorites from the "unfamiliar uniforms" category in my "Top 100", this one just missed making it.

Remember the words "Upper Deck Masterpieces".

They'll come up a lot once the "Top 100" posts begin.

This one was especially tough to cut, given the beautiful rendition of one of my all-time favorite players in Koufax.

I was sorry to see it go.

Be sure to keep "Conlon Collection" in mind as well.

It'll make a few appearances in the "Top 100".

This shot of Hack Wilson shows just how up-close-and-personal photographers were able to get  back in the day. They stood right by the plate.

While I'm sure it was a dangerous job, terrific photos like this one were probably the "payoff" from a good day's work.

In terms of old-time baseball, shots don't get much better than this.

I'm a bit disappointed that I couldn't get it into the "Top 100".

In sticking with the "Conlon" theme, here's another one that just missed.

Despite the fact that they were released over twenty years ago, these colorized cards are still some of my favorite inserts on record.

Sets can give me all the shiny refractors and gold-plated cardboard they want, but few could ever top the overall greatness of these.

When I initially got this card, it was in one of those annoying graded cases. At about thirteen years of age, my solution to that dilemma was to have my friend run it over with his bike.

Surprisingly, it worked like a charm.

It's currently sitting in my binders as we speak, ready to be admired. Not one of those cases.

Had "Shoeless Joe" been in a White Sox jersey, I have a feeling that this one would've ranked high on the "Top 100". It's nothing against the Indians, but I've always associated Jackson with the Sox, first and foremost.

Anything else just looks out of place.

Unfortunately for "Rickey", this list will only comprise of cards from 1981 to the present.

As a result, his famous 1980 rookie card just missed the qualifications for the "Top 100". (I'm sure you'll see it whenever I decide to make a vintage list, though.)

Even with that, I thought his '82 Topps issue was sure to have a spot somewhere on the list.

If you were to ask me to picture the ideal card of a base stealer, this would be extremely close to what I'd have in mind.

After my "Top 100" list is finished, I have a feeling that I'll be going back and questioning a few things.

This might be one of those cards I'd reconsider.

For now, though, it's on the outside looking in.

This was the last card I was forced to eliminate.

Card number 101.

Like Masterpieces and Conlon Collection, you'll see a few appearances from the '94 UD All-Time Heroes set on my list.

This card captures a moment from Nolan Ryan's first no-hitter. I'm assuming he unleashed one of his famous 100-MPH fastballs moments after the shot was taken.

As is the case with any list, there was just one card too many. Unfortunately for the "Ryan Express", he was the last one to get the axe.

It was a tough decision to make.

Then again, no one said this would be easy.

The pure awesomeness of these cards should give you a decent idea of what awaits in the "Top 100".

After all, if these cards didn't make it, just imagine the ones that did.

If I had to put a specific time on it, I'd say to look for the list to debut within the next couple weeks, although that's not etched in stone.

Until that, let's give the "honorable mentions" a round of applause.

They certainly deserve it.

A flea market farewell

I don't want summer to be over just yet.

My calendar tried to convince me that summertime ended last month. The leafless trees and my return to school attempted to do the same.

Still, I could always look to the local flea market and say, "Summer is still here."

The "flea market chronicles" I've written over the past six months have been among my favorite posts to write on this blog. I'm glad I was able to share to joys of it with my fellow readers this year.

As a result, it disappoints me to say that this will be the last flea market post of 2012. This afternoon marked the last time I'd be able to attend before it closes up shop for the winter.

I did my best to make it count. Once we get further along in this post, I think you'll see why.

For now, let's focus on the first of the regular flea market card vendors.

As I mentioned in my last flea market post, this particular dealer doesn't get many new cards in from week to week. Still, he's always been nice enough to cut me a deal on whatever dime cards I buy, so I try and make an effort to buy something every time I go.

A little non-sports box is one of the regular features of his table. Before this week, I figured I'd picked through it a while ago.

One of the rows was filled with "historical" cards, most of which I had already. The other seemed to be comprised of cartoonish-like cards, something in which I've never had much interest.

This week, I decided to do a quick flip through those "cartoon" cards, just to see what the heck they were.

To my surprise, a few of them actually had ballplayers on them.

A closer examination informed me that these were from the 1990 Upper Deck "Looney Tunes" set, one that was new to me. Since Reggie Jackson was basically the "poster boy" in UD's early stages, it's only fitting that he's a main attraction of these.

While I'm not usually a fan of "cartoon" cards, I'll be the first to admit that these are actually pretty cool.

They're definitely "dime box gems" in my book.

The other prominent focus of this "looney" set is none other than Nolan Ryan.

From what I've seen and heard about his more "hard-nosed" personality, Ryan doesn't exactly seem like the type of guy who'd be involved in something like this.

That's what makes these all the more awesome.

They'll definitely make for some fun additions to my binders.

Between Tweety Bird and giant gloves, this dime box sure wasn't lacking in comedy.

I'd seen this card in the guy's dime boxes before. For some reason, I never managed to pull the trigger on it.

Until today, that is.

Despite that fact that Jason Michaels isn't in my binders, this was a must-have piece of cardboard.

I've found myself hunting for more simple, awesome, and just plain "cool" cards in the past few months.

It's safe to say that both of these belong in that category.

As far as I'm concerned, A&G's peak came in 2008. Others have come close, but nothing has been able to match the greatness of '08.

I think the Neshek is a good example of why that is.

In fact, I'm inducting him into my binders because that card absolutely needs to be displayed in a nine-pocket page.

Normally, it's hard to get excited about manager cards.

There's been a few "gems" in that department, but they're few and far between in the grand scheme of things.

Even though this one features a fairly lackluster manager in Don Wakamatsu, I can't stop staring at it. A measly dime was a small price to pay for such a masterpiece.

This is one of the greatest manager cards ever made, without a doubt.

All in all, I purchased around fifty cards from the vendor this time around, a group of cardboard that only cost me four bucks in the end.

Money well spent.

For those of you who have been to a flea market before, you've probably seen the "little of everything" that they can hold.

I have no idea how people accumulate so much extra stuff to sell at these things.

One of the tables I passed had everything from tools to clothes to lightbulbs.

And, surprisingly, baseball cards.

For just fifty cents, I was able to nab a complete set of '95 Post.

Even though I didn't know exactly what would be inside, it was at least worth a shot for that price.

I'm glad I pulled the trigger.

They were well worth a couple quarters.

As I found out, they were postcard-like in nature. Although they were all airbrushed in some way, shape, or form, a few managed to do a better job of covering it up than others.

The Piazza was probably my favorite from the 16-card set.

It doesn't get much better than an oversized "play at the plate".

Let's get on with the serious business, though.

The reason I keep coming back to the flea market from week to week is to dig through the discount boxes of one of the main vendors.

My finds from his table have found their way into every flea market post I've written so far.

This time was no different.

Unfortunately, his dime boxes were still missing in action, as they were the last time I'd attended.

Once again, though, I managed to find more than enough from his other cards to keep me happy.

I knew this one of "The Mick" enjoying his Triple Crown needed to be in my collection the moment I saw it.

Not bad for fifty cents.

Here's a couple from the same set, this time from the quarter bin.

As is the case with the previous card of Mantle, I've always been a fan of players showcasing their awards on cardboard. Because of that, buying the card on the right was a no-brainer.

The one on the left, however, was a different story.

I nearly put it back in the box. After all, the card doesn't actually picture "Joltin' Joe". Plus, the cropping job on it isn't exactly ideal.

Yet something about that card drew my interest. It certainly captures a defining moment in baseball history, seeing as it features the day Joe DiMaggio returned from World War II.

Because of that, I couldn't bring myself to pass it up.

An event like that deserves better than being a part of a forgotten quarter box.

Between "The Yankee Clipper", "The Iron Man", and "Say Hey", the stars just kept on coming.

A Ripken collector would've had a field day with the guy's quarter boxes. About half the box was comprised of his stuff.

Although I don't collect Ripken, that "Dream Team" card of his is perfect for my collection of anything and everything "odd".

I'm not exactly sure what that train has do do with the "Iron Man", but it sure makes for a neat backdrop.

As I was gearing up to purchase my finds, I noticed something off to the side.

A large 500-count box with the word "Closeout!" written in big, bold letters. Usually, those types of deals are relegated to overproduction-era cardboard.

To my surprise, this one was comprised entirely of 1983 and '84 Topps singles, years which aren't as plentiful in my collection as I'd like.

At the more-than-fair price of three bucks, I figured it was at least worth a look. A deal that sweet doesn't come along too often.

Once I got home, I dug into it with gusto.

It didn't take long to find one of my most wanted "sunset" cards with this '83 Topps Bobby Murcer.

As it turned out, the Murcer was the best of the bunch.

Most of it was comprised of fairly run-of-the-mill commons, which is pretty much what I was expecting. Just digging into all that early '80s cardboard was well worth the three bucks to me.

New cards for my binders, like the Kuiper and Lopes, were just icing on the cake.

If this afternoon's entire flea market experience had only involved everything I've shown so far, it would've been a bit of a letdown for me.

My "finds" up to this point were great, but still less than what my Sunday afternoons at the flea market usually hold.

Luckily, a couple "glass case" cards from the regular vendor more than saved the day.

Most of the time, my budget isn't expansive enough for me to go too crazy with the more expensive pieces of cardboard.

The ones in the glass case.

Usually, I hold onto a little bit of cash, just in case I happen to come across another unexpected card vendor later on in the flea market.

Outside of the Post set I featured earlier, all the cardboard I found came from the two regular vendors this afternoon.

That turned out to be a good thing.

After all, it allowed me to score an awesome 1966 Topps Don Drysdale. A fairly well-conditioned one, at that.

It looks unbelievably awesome next to my '66 Sandy Koufax on the "wall of cards" that hang in my room.

I actually had to make a return to the table in order to purchase the Drysdale.

That's because I'd already spent a good percentage of my daily budget on something else a little earlier...

This is one of those cards I never thought I'd own.

Although I've seen this card many, many times before, the thought of adding it to my collection seemed like a longshot.

Yet for just seven bucks, the impossible happened. I actually became the proud new owner of a 1969 Topps Hank Aaron.

Although it ate up about a third of the day's budget, I never had to think twice about buying it.

In the trips to the flea market this year, I've managed to add a '65 "Yaz", a '66 Drysdale, and a '69 Hank Aaron to my collection, as well as countless other great pieces of cardboard that have all received a good home.

For now, though, I'll just have to accept the fact that my summer is over. I hope you all enjoyed reading through my flea market finds from the last few months.

It's been fun.

Safe to say, I'm going to miss the flea market.

I'm going to miss it a lot.

Dream on

As far as blogging goes, inspiration can come from many different places.

A lot of the time, I'll have an idea for a blog post while doing something card-related, whether it be through sorting new cards or going through my existing collection.

In a few cases, I've found inspiration from otherwise strange places. I had a couple post ideas while listening to lectures in my math class last semester.

My "cult favorites" post came after picking up an old, dusty magazine from the stack in our living room.

Outside of my own collection, the source for much of my inspiration has come from the blogosphere itself.

If I were to simply write this blog and not read any other material, I probably would've run out of ideas a long, long time ago.

Call it "inspiration", call it "piggy-backing", call it whatever you want. I genuinely enjoy building off the thoughts of the other great authors in the blogosphere a lot of the time.

After all, that's what the blogosphere is.

A never-ending circle of ideas.

Today's "inspiration" came from a post I read from "Jaybarkerfan's Junk". In it, he asked a question I've pondered many times.

"What's your cardboard dream?"

One of my dreams is very similar to what "Jaybarkerfan" detailed in his post.

Running my very own card shop.

It's been a dream of mine since I started collecting baseball cards. At least when the fiscal part is left out of it.

Given the financial collapse of most brick-and-mortar card shops these days, I think I'd actually like to simply work at a card shop rather than owning one.

I'd be around cardboard all day. And I'd actually get paid for it, too.

What could be better?

Heck, at this point in my life, I'd even take half my salary in cards. Perhaps the shop owner would even throw in a box of Topps Update with my paycheck as a "bonus".

Will it ever happen? I doubt it.

But that's what a dream is, right?

As far as individual cards go, this one is my "white whale".

It's the one piece I've always wanted to add to my Hoyt Wilhelm collection. His 1952 Topps high-number rookie card.

Trouble is, they don't come cheap.

I saw an extremely well-loved copy on Ebay for around 150 bucks a few years ago, but someone snatched it before I had the chance to think of ways to scrounge up that kind of money.

Because of the "dream-like" quality of Hoyt's rookie card, this 2001 Topps Archives reprint has always been one of my favorites.

Although reprints are awesome, they can only go so far.

I want the real thing.

For now, I'll have to keep dreaming.

Still, I'm extremely glad to say that I've realized a few of my cardboard dreams.

Just a few months ago, I finally achieved my longtime goal of finding a card of Dizzy Dean in a Cubs jersey.

I've already dubbed the acquisition of my '71 Topps Thurman Munson as "a dream come true".

For a while, I was starting to think my lifelong quest of finding an authentic tobacco card would go unfulfilled.

All the graded ones I'd see at card shows were way out of my price range. I could never quite save up the money to nab one off Ebay, either.

After a while, my hopes of acquiring a tobacco card for my collection seemed to be slipping away. Whenever the thought came into my mind, my reaction started becoming something like this.

That's when I managed to inadvertently turn a fake tobacco card into a real one, thanks to the unbelievable generosity of a fellow collector.

It is indeed a "special tale of cardboard", one that will always put a smile on my face.

Sure, there are a few dreams I haven't yet realized in this hobby.

For the most part, though, I couldn't ask for much more out of it.

I'm a part of a great community of collectors here in the blogosphere. I'm the proud owner of my very own tobacco card.

Most of all, I'm lucky enough to have a great family who does everything they can to support this fantastic hobby.

I'm living the dream.

Living with a budget

A couple days ago, I was ready to stand up and applaud for Topps.

That's because I'd read that the Heritage High Number series was making a comeback.

High Numbers was one of Topps' greatest recent innovations, in my view. As much as set collectors might hate them, high numbers are a vital part of the overall awesomeness of vintage.

It's only appropriate that Heritage would seek to replicate them through a sort of "bonus" Update set, if you will.

In today's extremely limited Jeter and Pujols-filled checklists, High Numbers was there to provide the collector with a few new names that other sets may have missed.

With a parallel-filled set like Topps Update, I could probably own about seven or eight different variations of Ryan Theriot's base card if I really set my mind and budget to do so.

One of the great things about High Numbers is that much of the base set started and ended with the base card. While different Chrome parallels were dispersed throughout the checklist, most base cards stood alone.

To a lot of collectors, this may just look like an ordinary Glendon Rusch card. (He's in my binders, although I couldn't tell you exactly why.)

What makes it neat to me is that it's his only card as a Colorado Rockie. No parallels numbered to 55 copies, no sepia-toned variations, no printing plates, nothing.

That's a pretty special thing when you stop and think about it.

Because of all that, I was ecstatic when I heard about its dramatic comeback, although the fact that it would only be available in set form disappointed me a bit.

Still, for a 100-card set, I figured the price would've been at around twenty, maybe thirty bucks. I probably would've gone up to $40 if I had to.

This morning, I woke up to find a post on the topic, written by none other than Mr. Night Owl.

That's when I first saw how much the set was.

A hundred bucks. Not even close to my estimate. As I mentioned in the comments of Night Owl's post, I guess I should've known better than to get my hopes up like that.

Safe to say, I won't be purchasing any. It's not worth a hundred bucks to me.

Still, if this were a few years ago, things might've been different.

It's always interesting to look back and see how I've "matured" as a collector.

One of the major ways I've changed is through my budget.

During much of my pre-college collecting days, I didn't have anything resembling a "plan" when it came to spending money on cardboard.

Most of the time, I have a little extra cash set to the side, just in case I happen to really, really need it for something.

I haven't had to touch that money in years. (It helps that I stopped playing video games a few years ago as well. Those can eat up a ton of cash.)

If this were 2009, I probably would've dipped into it to buy the hundred-dollar Heritage High Numbers series, even if it wasn't necessarily something I absolutely had to have.

Nowadays, it's a fairly big event for me to fall victim to an "impulse buy". It doesn't happen all that often anymore. If it does, it's usually only a buck here or there, nothing resembling a hundred-dollar set.

A few years ago, it was pretty much commonplace. I'd make about a dozen "impulse buys" a month.

While I absolutely love this Ed Delahanty card, it's a good representation of how not to go about collecting on a budget.

I don't blame myself for wanting it. I blame myself for not being smart about it.

You see, this was one of the last single cards I bought off Ebay, which means that I paid the obnoxious three-dollar shipping charge that came along with it. The final price for the Delahanty totaled at around five bucks.

Had I held out a bit longer, I'm sure I could've found a copy somewhere for about half that, if not less.

In terms of my collecting habits, I guess I was a bit of a "reckless teen".

For a lot of us, our collecting budget goes beyond the purchasing of packs and cards.

Shipping costs need to be factored in as well.

During my seven-year stint on a couple different trading forums, I racked up about three thousand trades.

You could quantify a lot of those as "impulse trades". For about half of them, I traded simply for trading's sake.

When I initially found the world of online trading, I think the base rate for a package was around $1.30. At the time, I thought that was excessive. These days, it costs at least $1.95 to mail something, if not more.

Yet through all the postage increases, I stuck with my usual array of trades.

Thankfully, I've rethought my trading impulses as of late.

On the fairly rare event that I do still trade on the forums, I make sure it's for something I really want.

Back in the day, I spent the required postage needed to obtain this copper refractor of Ronnie Belliard, even though I've never full-on collected his cards.

I like it and everything, but I doubt I'd do the same today.

It's just not worth it, especially while trying to maintain a budget.

Looking back, my sudden need to develop a budget seemed to come out of nowhere.

I could only come up with one reasonable explanation.

Those glorious dime boxes.

I can't help but think that they played the biggest role in controlling my spending habits. Just another reason to love them so much, I guess.

As I've previously mentioned, much of my budget was devoted towards jersey and autograph cards for a while. Those don't exactly come cheap. (Compared to dime boxes, anyways.)

If I saw a box of two-dollar jersey cards, I'd rifle through them and pick out ten or twenty at a time. Safe to say, it did a number on what little spending cash I already had, and I didn't even get all that much to show for it.

If I were to pick out ten or twenty dime cards, it wouldn't even make a dent.

Plus, dime cards are just flat out better than those two-dollar pieces of fabric in most cases. Just take a look at that awesome Satchel Paige card for proof, a former dime box cast-off. (How often do you see a guy's last name on the front of his jersey?)

Given their bargain-basement price, dime boxes have gone a tremendously long ways in helping shrink my budget without any complications.

Less money, better cards.

It's the best of both worlds.

Still, I'd be lying if I said that I structure my entire collection around a budget.

I can't help but "live a little" sometimes. As a collector, it's in my nature.

As far as card shows go, you can't stop me. You can only hope to contain me.

When card show day comes, I always tell myself that I'm not going to spend over a certain amount. I've never managed to keep that promise.

Luckily, I've got a family who understands that as well. Both of my parents have always been there to loan me a little extra spending cash when it comes to shows. (Needless to say, they both get a huge amount of thanks for being so gracious towards my hobby.)

Otherwise, I would've run out of money halfway through the last few.

It's hard to stop myself from digging through dime box after dime box. It's even harder to stop myself from purchasing bargain vintage, especially when a table has a '64 Juan Marichal in a three-for-a-dollar box.

Can you blame me?

I will always be weak when it comes to the power of card shows. It's something I realized a long, long time ago.

I doubt that will ever change.

So, Topps, you were saying something about an overpriced High Numbers set?

Thanks, but I think I'll pass.

I'm on a budget.

Dime Box Heroes: Anytown, USA

2001 SP Legendary Cuts #2 Jimmie Foxx

Lately, one of my more frequent points of discussion has been the topic of "error cards".

They've always been a major part of my collection. After all, how often do you get the chance to actually celebrate mistakes?

I've already addressed a few general groups of slip-ups from the wonderful world of errors, such as the "player swaps" and the "reverse negatives".

Perhaps the most common error found on cardboard is the dreaded typo.

While they're bound to happen from time to time, they can still make for some pretty interesting pieces.

Despite what 1981 Donruss might have you believe, Bobby Bonds did not hit 986 homers during his career. (Kind of ironic that a member of the Bonds family would receive an error like that, isn't it?)

As I recently found out, even the famous Nolan Ryan rookie card is officially listed as an "error". Looks like someone at Topps made a slight slip-up when trying to spell the word "sensational".

On the surface, you could put this Jimmie Foxx card under the "typo" file.

However, it involves a lot more than just a simple extra number in the stat column or a missing letter from his player bio.

For a while, this seemed like any other card in my collection.

It wasn't.

Can you spot the error?

It only took me a good two years to notice it.

While flipping through my A's binder for the umpteenth time, I decided to take this one out of the page for a closer examination. It's a nice card, not to mention a former dime box find of mine.

That's when I saw it.

Take a closer look at the personal information just below his name.

Last time I checked, the city of "Anytowne, Somestate" does not exist.

On top of that, I'd venture a guess that it's against the laws of science for a human to have a height of zero feet, zero inches, and weigh zero pounds.

At least they got the bats/throws part correct. And his birthdate.

It's amazing that no one caught that during the production process. While it's just speculation, I'd hypothesize that the "mock" draw-up for Foxx's base card somehow found its way into packs.

That's the makings of one legendary screw-up right there.

Into the Sunset, Pt. 8: Joe Charboneau

Up until now, most of the guys I've featured in this theme have been fairly similar.

From Rod Carew to Andre Dawson, all of them had long, consistent, and fairly distinguished careers before their "sunset" issues were released.

That's not the case with this week's subject, Joe Charboneau.

Even though he only played in the majors for three short seasons, it's difficult to squeeze Charboneau's tale into one post.

But here goes.

"Super Joe" was originally a member of the Phillies organization after the franchise drafted in in 1976. 

Due to arguments with Philadelphia's management, Charboneau quit the game the very next year, going home to his hometown of Belvedere, Illinois, where he'd become the member of a local softball team.

The Twins decided to give Charboneau another shot, coaxing him out of his softball career for a spot in their organization. 

He'd be dealt to the Indians the next year, the place where his famous, yet short-lived career would really take off.

Charboneau would become an unlikely hero for the city of Cleveland, as his .289 average and 23 homers would net him the AL Rookie of the Year in 1980.

His cardboard debut came in 1981.

Charboneau's other two big league seasons are quite forgettable. Due to a back injury, he only managed to hit six more homers between 1981 and '82.

After showing so much promise, "Super Joe" would see his trio of "sunset" cards released in '82.

Normally, I like to show a card from the player's "peak year" at the top of these posts. However, due to the fact that Charboneau didn't have any "middle ground" in his cardboard career, I've chosen to show one of my all-time favorite inserts instead.

Most collectors familiar with the "Nickname Greats" insert set from 2006 Greats of the Game are probably aware of its unchallenged awesomeness.

A set that features the likes of "The Bird", "Spaceman", "Moon Man" (Jay Johnstone), and "Super Joe" Charboneau is certainly a treasure.

Although it came a lot sooner than expected, card companies still managed to give Charboneau a fairly nice cardboard send-off.

I think I'd like '82 Donruss more if they didn't basically reuse the design the following year.

Because of that, this one brings up the rear in tonight's countdown.

Besides, Charboneau reminds me a bit of Andre the Giant on this one.

Topps was the only company to grant Charboneau an action shot for his final card.

They were also the only ones to list "Super Joe" as a DH in '82. Usually, guys are well into their careers before that "DH" label starts to pop up on their cardboard.

Charboneau had completed just his second season with the Tribe, and he was already a "DH" to a lot of collectors.

I can't help but wonder how much better this one would be without that invasive facsimile signature. There's a right way and a wrong way to use those.

This is the wrong way.

Without the signature, I might've ranked this one at the top of the list.

Instead, the honor for tonight's best "sunset" card goes to Fleer.

During his career, Charboneau was known for his crazy antics. Actually, "crazy" doesn't even begin to describe them.

He was known to open beer bottles with his eye socket to win bar bets. He fixed a broken nose with a pair of pliers. He even once removed a tattoo with a razor blade. (After all that, it's easy to see why his career was so short.)

Somehow, the grimace that Fleer captures here manages to convey everything we need to know about "Super Joe".

All with one memorable snap of the camera.

After all, that's exactly what Joe Charboneau's career was.

Memorable.

Freaks and geeks

I've never been much of a Twitter person.

It's not that I have something personal against it or anything. The "Twitter-verse" just isn't for me, that's all.

Still, I find it refreshing that Mr. Night Owl is back to tweeting, even having a little sidebar that constantly updates his "feed".

It's given me bits and pieces of reading material during the last few afternoons, things to occupy my time in between his post(s) on any given day.

One of Night Owl's recent "tweets" caught my eye.

"Freaks and Geeks time on Netflix." (Equipped with one of the absolute all-time greatest Fleer cards.)

I've mentioned it a few times before on this blog, but Freaks and Geeks is my second-favorite TV show of all-time (after Seinfeld), despite the fact that it was only on for one season.

It's good to know that I'm not the only blogger aware of its existence.

If you haven't yet seen the series, I highly recommend you go out and watch it. I promise you won't regret it.

In the meantime, I'll give you a brief synopsis of the show, just for the sake of the rest of this post.

Freaks and Geeks takes place in 1980, following the fictional lives of two different groups of high schoolers. The "freaks" and the "geeks", obviously. (Containing some of the earliest acting roles of current stars like Jason Segel, James Franco, and Seth Rogen.)

In a nutshell, the "freaks" are the kind that hang out under the stairs and rarely show up for class. The "geeks" are constantly picked on, and, appropriate for the time period, are fans of Dungeons and Dragons. (That's only a tiny, tiny piece of what the actual show is about, though. If I keep writing about it, I have a feeling I won't be able to stop.)

Back to the point.

That tweet got me thinking. Could I see any ballplayers as part of the "freaks" during their school days? How about the "geeks"?

It didn't take long to find a few possibilities.

Dennis Eckersley strikes me as a bit of the "freak" type. I don't know what it is about that picture, but it just screams "freak".

I could definitely see Eckersley cutting math class every week.

When I was in high school, the different groups weren't as clear cut.

I don't think there were any definitive "freaks" or "geeks".

In terms of the present day, I'd say the early-'80s "freaks" are closest to the people who'd always call me "bro" or "dude" every time I'd bump into them in the hallway.

There were quite a few of those kids in my grade.

Something about this card of former player-turned-agent Rob Fick makes me think he was one of those "bro" guys.

I think it's that hand gesture he's making. Most poses on cards seem to be quite formal, with your typical hands-behind-the-back shot.

Only well-established veterans get to stray outside the norm in that department. Surely a lowly rookie couldn't do anything of the sort.

Yet, judging by this one, that's exactly what he did.

Thanks, bro.

You had to know he was coming.

A post dealing with the so-called "freaks" has to include something about "The Freak".

I'm in the process of watching last year's Giant-themed episodes of The Franchise. Thus far, I think my favorite scenes are the Lincecum-centered ones.

Sometime during one of the episodes, Lincecum said something along the lines of, "People can relate to me because I seem like that kid who rides their skateboard down the block every day."

He's right. I saw a bit of him in a lot of kids I knew during high school. He's the best representation of the "freaks" that comes to mind.

I could see "The Freak" playing lead guitar in a high school garage rock band.

Couldn't you?

Now, we move on to the other end of the spectrum.

The "geeks".

I don't really have a good definition of what being a "geek" involves. As I've mentioned before, there's a bit of "geek" in everyone.

It's just one of those things. When it comes to cardboard, you know it when you see it.

To be fair, most of the rookies featured in '92 Bowman remind me of bad yearbook photos. (Derek Lowe, anyone?)

Alex Gonzalez got the shortest end of the stick in that department.

"Geeky" is just one of the many, many words I'd use to describe that hair. And the pants. And the shirt. And the tie.

Especially the tie.

A quick dig through my one of my extra boxes netted me a few worthy "geek" candidates.

In the history of mankind, has anyone successfully pulled off a unibrow? Wally Moon probably came the closest.

Certainly not Benji Gil.

By any means.

Chris Sabo's goggles are incredibly funny, yet incredibly awesome at the same time. Even though he's involved in what looks to be a fairly dramatic play at the plate, I can't help but laugh.

Had I not known better, I'd assume that Sabo flunked his high school gym class.

Observe.

The patron "geek".

The so-called "geeks" on Freaks and Geeks are proud members of their school's AV Club. Between the glasses and the hair, I get the feeling that Hershiser might have watched his fair share of two-reelers in high school.

But, man, could he pitch.

Not every "ace" is going to be a hulking Randy Johnson or Bob Gibson type, I guess.

Still, if I were to tell someone who knew nothing about baseball that this guy's nickname was "Bulldog", I doubt they'd believe me.

"This guy?" would probably be the most common response.

I can't say I'd blame them.

Here's a bit of a curveball.

I could definitely see Mr. Tekulve taking part in gripping games of D&D on Friday nights. (Hopefully he didn't name his character "Carlos the Dwarf". An inside joke for all you Freaks and Geeks fans out there.)

Then again, I wouldn't be surprised if I found out he snuck a few beers into his school's Homecoming football game.

Even though I've thought about it for the last couple hours, I'm not sure what label suits Kent Tekulve more.

"Freak" or "geek"?

I'll leave that for you to decide, because I sure can't.

On the whole, a lot of this represents a part of why I love the game of baseball so much. Literally anyone can play it.

Freaks and geeks alike.