The never-ending box

When it comes to baseball cards, there's definitely a calm before the storm.

A couple weeks ago, I found myself having finally finished filing mounds and mounds of cards that needed to go into my binders. It was one of those rare times where I was able to bask in the joy of a clean desk.

That inner peace didn't last long.

I was rather happy with myself as I went downstairs to check the mail the next day. You did it, Nick. You finally did it. And that's when I saw it.

An absolute mega-box. The sheer weight of it caught me off-guard when I first tried to pick it up. I knew who the culprit was the moment I saw that familiar Mariner decal on the back.

T. J., probably better known to all of you as "The Junior Junkie".

Before I saw that box, I would've been perfectly fine with not having to file any cards for another week or so. But after I started digging my teeth into it, I knew there was nothing else I'd rather do than sort through the amazing selection T. J. picked out for me.

The thing just never seemed to end. I was pulling stuff out of this box for a good half-hour straight. Through his own blog and the comments he's left on mine, I know T. J. is quite the funny guy. The note he attached to this Alex Fernandez card says more about his sense of humor than I ever could.

I actually have a couple copies of this one already, but never noticed the "Can't Touch This" (da-na-na-na, na-na, na-na) M.C. Hammer hat on any of them. The player wearing it is actually Ozzie Guillen, as the note covers up the #13 on the back of his jersey.

The surprises were just beginning.

This is a card I've been secretly hoping someone would send me.

My Darryl Kile collection has grown by leaps and bounds since my entry into the blogosphere, but my quest for his fantastic 1995 Topps issue had gone for naught. I was about to bite the bullet and order it off Just Commons before this box came along.

No need now.

There's that Denny's place again.

I can't tell you how many Grand Slams I would've scarfed down if there was even a remote possibility of getting a new Jim Abbott card.

More eggs, please.

T. J. was even nice enough to hunt down a few mini-collection hits as well.

That Jose Oquendo double dip earns bonus points for the Ryno cameo.

Perhaps the most intriguing part about this package was the fact that it contained boxes within a box.

I swear, it was just like one of those little Russian dolls.

After a little digging, out slid a white box simply labeled "Set Needs". I believe it was an 100-count box, so I was expecting it to be about a quarter full. Maybe half if I was lucky.

Nope. T. J. packed the thing to the gills and massacred my so-called "set needs" (really player needs in disguise) from the last couple years.

One of the few he included that wasn't on my want list was this neat issue from 2014 Panini Golden Age.

A rare horse appearance on cardboard.

Before I get into all the wonderful set needs he sent, I should note another aspect of this box that kept on giving.

As if the cards weren't enough, T. J. also included a stack of at least a hundred Ultra-Pro nine-pocket pages. All the cards you're about to see are housed in pages from this mega-box.

We start with a GQ/Archives hybrid. Although I can't say I'm a huge fan of either set, there are a few diamonds in the rough to be had.

The Lowrie throwback is a particular favorite of mine.

T. J. pretty much every avenue of A&G you can imagine.

Base, inserts, short-prints, all of it. I can't get over the fact that Topps included Vlad as one of its select "retired" guys this year.

It seems like just yesterday he was bashing singles out of balls in the dirt.

Thanks in large part to T. J.'s gracious efforts, I'm down to a mere handful of Series 2 needs at this point.

Note the awesome Jordan Danks double dip/throwback in the center.

Inserts, anyone?

One thing I find fascinating about this batch is the fact that Topps stuck not one, but two cards of Randy Johnson as an Expo into a couple different insert checklists this year. And, as hard as it might be to believe, they feature different photos.

Topps feels compelled to use the same images of big names like Miguel Cabrera and Hank Aaron over and over again, but, at the same time, they put effort into finding two different shots of the Big Unit in those defunct powder blues.

I guess that's just the enigma that is Topps.

T. J. even threw in a batch of 2013 Flagship inserts for good measure.

It's hard to go wrong with a page that features Gary Carter, Yasiel Puig, and Deion Sanders.

A healthy selection of minis capped off this set needs extravaganza.

It's tough to decide which ones I like best.

I'm telling you, this was the box that just kept on giving.

I can honestly say that this was the first time I'd ever received a book as part of a trade package. Yes, you read that right. A real, actual hardcover book. The blogosphere never ceases to surprise me.

Although my pile of unread books is starting to become as substantial as my unsorted cards, I'm not one to ever refuse a new piece of sports literature.

T. J. hit me right in the childhood with this magnificent item.

I've mentioned my attachment to these SI for Kids panels before. About how I stole, er, borrowed them from my grammar school library.

Part of me wonders why I never kept any of the panels intact as a little memento. Then again, it's hard to understand much of anything I did when I was ten.

This one, I'm happy to report, will be staying together in its original state.

It's like reclaiming a lost piece of my childhood.

I guess T. J. figured set needs, pages, panels, and books weren't enough.

He felt compelled to add a stack of old packs to the mix as well.

I've heard of other collectors who have stashes of unopened wax stored away in their collection. That's not even a remote possibility for me. I don't care if it's 1988 Donruss or 2014 Topps Museum Collection.

If there's a pack of baseball cards in my hands, I have to open it.

Opening this batch of 1990 Score was a fun foray into a time when different-colored borders were still a thing. Blue, green, white, red, all there.

Who needs parallels when you have these?

I dug out a couple packs of 1987 Topps Mini Leaders from deep down in the depths of this box.

Topps tuck with the wood-grain borders for these, but the design is completely different from the standard Flagship design from that year.

These are nice, but I much prefer the full-sized versions.

Let's move from mini to giant for a moment.

At apparently just 40 cents a pop, T. J. was able to score a couple packs of these mysterious oversized Donruss issues.

They were completely new to me...

...or so I thought.

I'd already had a couple of these slick pop-up inserts in my collection already, but had no idea what kind of packs they came from.

It feels good to finally have an answer.

These were the base cards from the mammoth pack, if you will.

Can't go wrong with Ryno and Fernando.

Against all odds, this never-ending box did in fact come to an end.

Eventually.

One of the last items that slid out of it was this 2002 Fleer Box Score "Cooperstown Tour" boxed set. Not all 40 of the "basic cards" were included, as T. J. said he'd distributed a few to other team-centric bloggers. 

The ones I did get, however, bolstered my Hall of Fame collection quite a bit.

Each legend you see here is numbered to 2,950 copies.

I especially enjoyed the mix of names Fleer included in this set. Sure, you have the bigger inductees like Rod Carew and Brooks Robinson. But you also get the more under-the-radar Hall of Famers (if such a thing is possible) like Jim Bunning and Richie Ashburn.

It's the best of both worlds.

Ah, but the surprises weren't quite done yet. T. J. actually sent along one extra-special pack that deserved a post all on its own. More on that in the coming days.

I can honestly say that it took me quite a few hours over the span of a couple days to get the contents of this mega-box sorted, scanned, and filed away into my binders. It was a lot of work, more so than almost any other trade package I'd ever received.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Portrait of the suburbs

Where I live is about as suburban as suburbs get.

I guess I've come to have a love-hate relationship with the 'burbs over the years. Love, because there's usually something to do. Hate, because it can start to feel claustrophobic at times.

I can't complain too much, though. A thirty-minute train ride and, boom, I'm right in the heart of downtown Chicago. Or, on the rare occasion I don't mind putting up with hoards of so-called "Cubs fans", a short forty-five minutes on the bus and I'm in Wrigleyville.

Still, most of my time is spent right here in suburbia.

I happen to reside right across the street from a big mall, which, like the suburbs that surround it, is good and bad. More than anything else, the city I live in gets identified with the mall more than anything else. 

When I tell people where I live, I almost always get the Oh, you mean right next to that mall? response. It's very Fast Times at Ridgemont High-ish, but not all that funny. (And I certainly don't know any Spicolis.)

Granted, there's a Target right in the heart of the mall, so I'm lucky in that I can scratch a cardboard itch anytime I feel the need.

Another big thing I've learned about the suburbs is that there's never a shortage of places to eat.

That is, if you don't mind fast food.

The mall, as you might imagine, has about as diverse of a food court as you'll ever find. There's a gyros place, a Mexican place, a pizza place, a Subway, and even a frozen yogurt place.

And, of course, a McDonald's.

McDonald's is good. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't find myself having a craving for it all that often, but it's a safe place to eat if I'm passing by and/or don't have a lot of money.

A couple McChickens off the dollar menu and I'm set.

Right next to the huge mall is a lonely little Burger King.

The bus I take to come home from school lets me off right across the street from it. I'm almost always greeted by that greasy smell of frying burgers. I can usually still smell it from my apartment on the second floor.

If I'm really hungry, it can admittedly be like a tractor beam, sucking me in to the world of Whoppers and chicken sandwiches. Thankfully, I've learned to block out the smell most of the time.

If Burger King still issued cards, though, there'd be no stopping me.

You'll find a Denny's about a block down from that Burger King.

I can't say particularly like much about Denny's. The food has never really been to my taste.

The only reason I ever go is because it's pretty much the only thing open when my friends and I need a bite at one in the morning. Remind me never to get Denny's eggs and sausage in the wee hours of dawn ever again.

I'm sure the food is more fresh during, you know, actual breakfast hours, but it's hard for me to eat anything before noon.

That doesn't exactly bode well for Denny's.

There's a mini-mall right across the way from that Denny's.

In that mini-mall is a Domino's. I'm hopelessly out of touch with that place. It's been forever since I've stepped foot in there. I didn't even know they ever made cards until earlier this year.

The reason is quite simple.

I don't like Domino's. I could take a bite out of this Mickey Lolich card and it would taste about the same as their pizza to me.

Luckily, there's a million other places I can go to get a good pie around here.

One of the benefits of living around Chicago.

Though you won't find their logo on them, Long John Silver's produced a set of baseball cards in 1990.

They're among the most common oddballs I've ever encountered. They're bound to pop up in almost any dime box. Strange, because I never knew so many people ate at Long John Silver's.

I think there's one a little east of where I live. Or is it west? I don't know. I don't like seafood. At all.

While the cards are okay, I've never had a reason to step foot in a Long John Silver's.

Then again, not everything has to be a big meal.

You're bound to find a 7-11 on almost any street around where I live. A quick and usually essential stop if I need a quick Diet Coke or bag of chips. (Cheddar and Sour Cream, of course.)

This may seem like blasphemy, but I've never been a big Slurpee guy. They're a bit too sugary for me.

But I'll be darned if they didn't come with some sweet 3-D coins back in the '80s.

If my friends and I are feeling particularly adventurous, we'll take a ride down to the new Sonic a mile or two down the road.

They just built it a couple years ago. Before then, I'd been living in a Sonic-less world.

I quickly found that the burgers weren't anything special, sadly. I stick with the popcorn chicken whenever I happen to hit a Sonic these days.

I do rather like the 1950's atmosphere on the place. You order from a little drive-in window, park, and wait for the waitresses to come and deliver your food.

It makes me feel like I'm in American Graffiti or something.

I should note that there's also a Wendy's, Taco Bell, and Jimmy John's on my block, but I don't have cards for any of those eateries.

Okay, so maybe the fast food is one of the defining characteristics of my little suburban town. I don't know if that's a good thing. The worst part is that none of them issue cards anymore.

Still, I guess I can't complain too much. Just as long as I make sure to get out into the city every once in a while, being around the suburbs isn't so bad.

It's a relatively quiet, low-stress life, which suits me just fine.

The dime box frankenset, Page 30: Numbers 262-270

Let's take a look at how last week's frankenset voting turned out.

Win -- 1993 Stadium Club #257 Oscar Azocar (14 votes)

Place -- 1973 Topps #253 Mark Belanger (6 votes)

Show -- 1991 Upper Deck #258 Jose Lind (4 votes)

Oscar Azocar and his dreamy bat won this round going away, receiving 14 of the total 33 votes cast. The 33 tallies were also the most we've had since this whole frankenset business started, so a huge thanks goes out to everyone who voted this week.

For the first time, my tally went to a card that didn't make the top three. I've heard my dad wax poetic about the lemon-faced '76 Topps Rowland Office on quite a few occasions, so I've always had a bit of an attachment to it.

The votes of my dad and I accounted for two of the meager three votes Mr. Office received.

Let's see if I agree with the majority this week.

Here's a closer look at our new page of contestants.

1993 Topps #262 Mickey Morandini

The rare throwback/double dip combo. 

1973 Topps #263 George Scott

The more I look at this card, the more I think Topps cut and pasted that action-packed pickoff shot in front of a generic crowd image.

Given how crazy '73 Topps was, I wouldn't put it past them.

1994 Collector's Choice #264 Bill Spiers

The possibly even more rare faux-throwback/double dip combo. 

1992 Score #265 Jose Lind

Our second Lind double play in as many pages. 

1997 Topps #266 Eric Owens

And from the cloud of dust emerged...Eric Owens. 

1978 Topps #267 Doug Ault

An equally fascinating and chilling part of vintage Topps history. 

1992 Upper Deck #268 Mike Benjamin

I don't know how pre-war players did it with those scrawny little gloves.

 2012 Topps #269 Jason Vargas

A stroll into the '70s with this nice throwback.

2012 Topps Update #US-270 Luis Ayala

The immaculate AL relief pitcher at the plate/bat barrel pairing.

Let's see if we can keep those 30-plus vote totals going. The poll is now on the sidebar.

Happy voting!

Proud to be an oddball

I shudder when I think about all the years I wasted not caring about oddballs.

I was, for lack of a better word, a more mainstream collector. As an adolescent, Topps and Upper Deck were my main focuses, and I had yet to become a full-blown dime box-aholic.

It was kind of like listening to whatever happened to be on the Top 40 at the time and nothing else. Follow the masses.

Thankfully, I've changed a whole lot since then. My focuses have become a lot more broad, which, in an odd way, has actually given my collection a stronger identity. It was inevitable, then, that I eventually started to become much more enamored with the world of oddballs.

That's why I can honestly say that a recent package I received from Tony of the awesome blog "Off Hiatus Baseball Cards" made for one of the better trading experiences of my blogging career.

Tony and I haven't been trading for very long, but it's obvious that he's a true blogger buddy and has a firm handle on the kind of cardboard I like.

He'd emailed me a while back saying he had this Ricky Vaughn "Major League" insert for me if I wanted it. Of course I wanted it. I don't know if it's a true oddball, but it's about as close to it as we can get these days.

We wear caps and sleeves at this level, son.

Is this an oddball?

Is this even a baseball card?

Yes and yes, if you ask me. I'm sure thousands and thousands of people have thrown these away this year, treating them like any other advertisement. I don't play video games, so I couldn't give two you-know-whats about the code on the front.

As far as the card, though, it's as binder-worthy as any other Miguel Cabrera issue I've come across.

The rest of the package was about as Cubs-centric as they come.

Better yet, they were all oddballs. While it was issued by Topps, the most mainstream brand around, I still count this Lee Smith Mini Leaders issue as an oddity.

Most minis are.

I'd somehow never gotten my hands on anything from the 1981 Topps Scratch-Off set before Tony came along.

These things are smaller and a bit more narrow than your everyday baseball card, and definitely worthy of being considered oddballs.

Most of the ones I've seen around the blogs are unscratched, which leaves me wondering how many collectors actually played the scratch-off game back in '81.

These were completely new to me.

Apparently, the Jay's Potato Chips brand released cards back in 1986. Like a lot of oddballs from the period, this quartet of Cubbies has the airbrushed caps and helmets thing going.

Tony later asked me on Twitter whether Jay's Potato Chips are still around. As a potato chip lover/enthusiast/addict, I was able to confidently answer that yes, they are.

If I could have one snack for the rest of my life, it would probably be chips and dip.

Without double-dipping, of course.

Now we're getting into the real sweet stuff.

I don't get Hostess cards too often in trades, so the rare times they do appear in my mailbox are special. Especially if they're hallowed Cubs like Bill Madlock and Bill Buckner.

I'm pretty sure that Hostess were the first oddballs I ever saw as a young collector.

That's probably why I still have such a strong attachment to them to this day.

That said, Kellogg's is giving Hostess a serious run for its money.

Even when I was starting to jump back onto the oddball train, it took me a little while longer to dive deep into these 3-D beauties. I think you can thank one particular card show experience for making me a full-fledged Kellogg's convert.

Tony sent over a real gem with this '78 Kellogg's Bruce Sutter. The famous forkballer is one of those guys that, for whatever reason, I basically ignored until fairly recently. These days, I'm trying to make up for lost time by snatching up Sutters left and right.

In any other trade, this might've been the centerpiece of the package.

But not this one.

The 1984 7-UP Cubs stadium giveaway set that Tony sent along has to be one of the single best items I've ever received in a trade package.

He told me that it's been in his hands since he attended a fateful Cubs game at Wrigley back in '84. It was still in the thirty-year-old shrinkwrap when it fell out of this package.

The fact that Tony would send over such a longtime possession of his means more than I could probably ever put into words.

For a moment, I considered leaving the cards in the shrinkwrap for the sake of keeping the set intact. However, that instinct didn't hold for very long, and I found myself busting it open within seconds.

The coaches issue you see above is very '80s. A lot of oddball team sets from the period seem to have something similar, as opposed to the zero coach cards you see nowadays.

This one has a rare shot of the late Don Zimmer back when he was coaching third base for the Cubs.

Coaches card aside, these beauties have an extremely minimal full-bleed design.

The nameplate is short and to the point, complete with the player's jersey number, name, and position.

Better yet, they come in both the horizontal...

...and vertical variety.

One of the other big draws of this set is the fact that it was produced in 1984, one of the best years in Cubs history. Though they ended coming up just short of the NL Pennant, the team was still loaded with big names.

Rick Sutcliffe won the Cy Young in '84, despite only spending about half the season in the National League. Lee Smith was starting to come into his own as a young reliever, and veterans like Larry Bowa and Jay Johnstone helped set the tone for the team.

As far as photos go, that shot of the sans-helmet Gary Matthews had to be the best of the lot.

For me, though, the crown jewel had to be this early oddball of Ryno.

Sandberg's rookies hit the shelves just a year prior in 1983. As most Cubs fans know, he'd go on to win the NL MVP in '84, the year this set was issued.

It's packages like these that make me wonder why it took me so long to get into the world of oddballs. They've made for some of the best experiences I've had in this hobby.

When it comes to collecting, I'm proud to be an oddball.

Cataloging crisis

Chances are you've heard me ramble on and on about my organizing habits by now.

How I organize, when I organize, where I organize, why I organize, the whole deal. I like to think I've covered basically every possible path of that topic at this point.

It seems odd, then, that I have yet to write a single word on this blog about how I catalog my collection. Why? Because I don't catalog my cards. Or, more appropriately, I haven't considered doing so in a long time.

I think I used to write down all my "good" cards in a little notebook when I was a kid, but that had to have been at least ten years ago.

The most advanced I ever got in my cataloging habits was a basic little Word document I had that contained every insert, parallel, and short-print I owned, but I abandoned that years ago.

I do have a website, but that's almost exclusively for cards I want to trade, not ones I plan on keeping. And I haven't used it a whole lot since I bailed on the trading forums.

The process of fully acclimating a new card to my collection isn't that substantial. If I want to show it on the blog, I'll scan it and put the image in a folder for future use. If not, it goes into a stack where it sits until I can safely nestle it into one of my binders. Nothing more, nothing less.

When it comes to cataloging, I'm about as out of touch as the bulky computer on that Jim Abbott card.

The main thing that dissuaded me from cataloging is the fact that it's, well...just plain boring for me.

The fact that I have so many different collections makes it hard to document them all. Plus, I've found that I'm pretty good when it comes to knowing which cards I need and don't need.

I guess I never saw the draw to cataloging until I heard a few fellow bloggers talking about this thing called Zistle. From what I hear, it's the new hip way to document your cards. And the site even lets you make trades with fellow collectors, if you so please.

I finally got around to creating a Zistle account a few weeks ago, but haven't had the time or energy to dive into it further since then.

My understanding of the site is still pretty primitive as of this writing, but I have to say that I'm starting to get excited about finally being able to catalog my cards and have fun with the process at the same time.

When I get around to it, my first order of business will probably be documenting my Vlad and Ichiro collections. I have over 500 Ichiros and upwards of 700 Vlads, so it's understandably difficult to remember which cards I have and need sometimes.

Whenever I find a card of either guy that I think I might have, I'm forced to go through everything I own of them and see if I need it or not. It's a long and painstaking process, as you can imagine.

Cataloging would bring an end to ever having to do that again.

Originally, I thought I'd have to scan every card of anything I wanted to catalog.

That, obviously, would be a massive undertaking and one that I'm not sure I'd ever want to do.

From what I see with Zistle, though, that happily isn't the case. My understanding is that if someone has already uploaded an image of a card you want to add to your collection, you can simply use that stock photo for your own archives.

One of the bigger projects I might tackle in the future is cataloging everything I own from my various mini-collections. All the double dips, all the throwbacks, and so on.

I'm completely happy with anyone who simply wants to send me a blind stack of cardboard, but documenting what I already have within each theme might be helpful for anyone who wants to check whether I have a certain card or not.

The 1991 Upper Deck Scott Fletcher you see above is one of the better double dips I own. You get an Omar Vizquel cameo on the front, along with a bonus double dip/throwback shot (with a Robin Yount appearance) on the back.

It's so great, in fact, that at least seven or eight different people have sent it to me over the past couple years. With a Zistle account, I'll be able to show that, yes, I have and enjoy this terrific double dip and, no, I don't need any more copies.

Eight is enough.

I wouldn't mind cataloging my non-sports cards, either.

Because this area of my collection has so many subparts and other facets, I lose track of what I already have at times. More than that, though, I think it'd be fun to get to see all those non-sports heroes next to each other.

Being able to see figures like George Washington, Beethoven, and The Beatles in the same little folder would be pretty neat.

If this whole Zistle thing is as fun and fulfilling as I'm hoping, I'll probably get around to documenting a lot of my other player collections as well.

All I know is that cataloging is (and has been) a long overdue task. I'd always feel kind of left out of the party when I'd hear about how everyone else documents their cards.

Zistle has been making the rounds for a while now, and it's about time I joined the tech-savvy people like Brad Ausmus and jumped on board.

To the catalog!

Into the Sunset, Pt. 27: Dave Winfield

On this date twenty-one years ago, Dave Winfield collected his 3,000th hit.

He jumped around a bit during the later stages of his career, so he ended up achieving the feat during his often-forgotten tenure with the Twins. I have a few cards that commemorate the historic moment, but this is far and away the best one.

One could very well argue that Winfield was the best all-around athlete of the latter half of the 20th century. The man was drafted by the Padres in 1973 (as a pitcher, no less) and made the rare jump directly to the bigs without having played in a single minor league game.

However, Winfield was also drafted by both the NBA's Atlanta Hawks and ABA's Utah Stars. Oh, and the Vikings took him in the '73 NFL draft despite the fact that he never played college football.

Of course, Winfield chose baseball. Given that he was born on the same exact day that Bobby Thomson hit his famed "Shot Heard 'Round the World" (October 3rd, 1951), it almost seems like fate.

I tend to forget that Winfield is a member of the 3,000-hit club because I associate him so much with being a hulking power guy.

That, and the fact that his last few years in the majors weren't exactly anything to write home about.

Dave Winfield played for five teams during his last six years in the bigs.

His final stop came with the Indians in 1995. The story of how he arrived there is one of my personal favorite tidbits of baseball lore.

The Twins and Indians had a trade in place to send Winfield to Cleveland a short while before baseball went on strike in 1994. Once order was restored the following year, the clubs weren't sure how to work out the details of the deal since such a long period of time had elapsed.

A couple members from the Indians brass took some of the Twins management out for a meal shortly after the strike was resolved, and they called it even. So, yes, Dave Winfield was once traded for a few plates of dinner. I hope the Twins at least got a hearty steak out of the deal.

Winfield slumped during his lone season with the Indians, hitting just .191 with two homers in 46 games before calling it quits.

One of the biggest tragedies in my sunset collection is the fact that Topps didn't make a card of Winfield in 1996 with full career stats on the back.

Granted, I like his '95 Topps issue quite a bit, but it's not a true final tribute.

I should note that my Dave Winfield sunset collection isn't complete.

Then again, it's darn near impossible to track down everything of guys who played during the gluttony of baseball card brands in the mid-to-late '90s. I have the majority of Winfield's finales, however, and I feel that's enough to compose a halfway decent post on the matter.

I'm probably one of the few '96 Fleer fans you'll find. The quirky matte finish gives them a feel that's hard to find anywhere else.

That said, their send-off to Mr. Winfield wasn't anything special.

This card is the opposite.

I love the high-five shot, but I despise the stupid "mountain of gold" design.

A rare miss on Pinnacle's part.

Score put out a lot of vastly underrated sets in the mid '90s.

Their 1995 offering is probably one of my favorites from the decade (again, I'm probably one of the few), and '96 isn't far behind.

The packed crowd at Fenway makes for a beautiful backdrop on this terrific sunset card.

It's hard to describe how much I love the little "Tribute" banner that appeared in some of the final Collector's Choice checklists.

They didn't feel the need to make a big, ceremonious, LOOK AT THIS CARD!!!!! type of deal out of it. When you saw that little "Tribute" stamp, though, you knew you had something special.

Seeing cards like this one as a young collector may well have been the catalyst for my interest in the world of sunset cards.

If I ran Topps, one of my first orders of business would be to bring the Tribute stamps back.

All things considered, I think Upper Deck takes the honor of producing my favorite sunset card of Mr. Winfield.

I was a little hesitant to even consider it an "official" finale, given that the "Young at Heart" series was a subset in '96 UD. I don't consider inserts to be true sunset cards, but I'd never thought about subsets before tonight.

I'll give them the nod. They're part of the base checklist, and that's good enough for me.

These cards are a solid all-around effort from Upper Deck. Great design, great photos, great little timeline on opposite sides at the bottom, and, most importantly...

...great backs.

With complete career stats, no less.

The Padres photo/Indians listing used to play with my OCD a bit, but I've come to realize that Upper Deck wasn't just being lazy by not matching the two.

Their goal was to contrast a photo of Winfield as a bright-eyed young star with the grizzled veteran that appears on the front, and they accomplished just that with this magnificent design.

I don't know if Upper Deck ever experimented with the whole "hero number" theme. (Which might actually be a fun bit of research to do one day, now that I think of it.)

If they did, though, granting Dave Winfield the coveted #100 on this sunset card was an honorable move on their part.

Not surprisingly, Winfield made it into the Hall of Fame in 2001, his first year on the ballot. He was the first player to go into Cooperstown as a Padre, and his #31 is retired by San Diego.

I don't know that we'll ever see another player quite like Dave Winfield. I can't imagine another player getting drafted by four different professional sports teams in this day in age.

Four.