Let's form a club, 2017 edition

Due to a lot of general goings-on in my life and collection lately, I seemed to unwittingly become the only blogger who hadn't yet posted about 2017 Stadium Club.

So tonight, almost two months after its release date, here I am finally giving perhaps the most anticipated set of the year its due diligence on the blog. Better late than never, as the old saying goes, though I'm guessing the majority of you have already seen most of the cards I'll be featuring here.

I'll spare you a lengthy analysis of the design -- many others have already pointed out that, for the second year in a row, Stadium Club seems to be taking a page from an obscure Fleer release (this time, 2007 Ultra).

I went a bit crazy (Stadium Club generally has that effect on me) and bought much more of Stadium Club's skinny five-card retail packs than I should have, a fiscally irresponsible decision considering The National was just a couple weeks away at that point.

Though I did manage to (mercifully) pull rookies like Benintendi and Judge from the Target packs I opened -- cards I needed that likely would've set me back a good chunk of change on the secondary market -- most of my sampling of 2017 Stadium Club came from a large 20-cent box I found from a National vendor who had obviously opened a case or two of the stuff.

It didn't take long for me to see that, once again, Stadium Club retained its crown as the most exciting set of the year here in 2017.

The photos are (forgive me if you've heard this before) fresh and unpredictable, featuring everything from David Ross's Game 7 homer to Evan Longoria throwing a football to AJ Ramos about to get pied by a teammate in some sort of bear costume.

The vast majority of these images have never been seen on cardboard before, and probably never will be again, and that's where the beauty and joy of Stadium Club lies. The allure of many sets, no matter how strong their original promise, may tend to wear thin after a few years. The big Beckett catalog is chock full of such examples.

However, 2017 marks the fourth incarnation of Stadium Club since the brand's rebirth, and I can unequivocally say that I am not even beginning to tire of it -- not by a longshot.

As has become tradition around here, I've undertaken the near-impossible task of selecting my ten favorite cards from this year's Stadium Club.

Nothing you've already seen in this post cracked the Top Ten -- incredible considering most of these also-rans would be at or near the top of the charts in any other set -- but I do have to give honorable mention to this Salvador Perez combo I unearthed from that 20-cent box at The National.

The card on the left was to be expected -- it is, after all, Salvy's standard base card from the set. The card on the right, however, is one of the super-rare photo SPs (honoring Perez's tribute to the late Jose Fernandez), something I didn't even notice I'd found until I was rehashing my National finds later that night.

Call it a happy accident.

#10 -- 2017 Stadium Club #99 Paul Goldschmidt

Anyone can sign autographs, but only superstars get to sign giant murals of themselves.

#9 -- 2017 Stadium Club #283 Willie McCovey

Willie McCovey doesn't even need to show his face to make for a bad-ass baseball card.

#8 -- 2017 Stadium Club #260 Ted Williams

I was, admittedly, a little lukewarm about this photo choice when I first saw it: I'm not even sure what's going on here -- Williams looks to be either rising from a slide or doing push-ups. 

Only later did I notice that, despite my initial apathy, this photo perfectly captures Teddy Ballgame's larger-than-life persona, the extreme close-up lending a very King Kong-like perspective to the image in relation to the seemingly tiny building in the background.

#7 -- 2017 Stadium Club #135 Jameson Taillon

Another reason I'd like to see PNC Park at least once during my lifetime.

#6 -- 2017 Stadium Club #213 Jonathan Lucroy

What I imagine War of the Worlds might've looked like on a baseball field.

#5 -- 2017 Stadium Club #248 David Ortiz

FLAVOR FLAAAAAAAAAAAVVVVV!

#4 -- 2017 Stadium Club #126 Brooks Robinson

Something struck me as a bit off when I first saw this card, and it took me a moment to realize it was the jersey Robinson is wearing here.

Since when did the Orioles -- a team I've always thought of as more on the stoic side -- wear such blinding uniforms? Turns out the O's trotted out this all-orange wardrobe on only a handful of occasions over the 1971 and '72 seasons, making any images of players in these jerseys exceedingly rare.

I'm almost positive this is the first one I've seen on a baseball card and, for that, we all owe a huge debt to Stadium Club.

#3 -- 2017 Stadium Club #151 Tim Raines

I'm hoping Tim Raines's recent induction into Cooperstown will grant him more spots in current products, though I doubt he'll ever be able to top this one.

#2 -- 2017 Stadium Club #53 Anthony Rizzo

A perfectly framed still of Anthony Rizzo's second spectacular out-of-bounds grab (after his famous tarp catch the year prior), an iconic image that's sure to be burned in the memories of Cub fans for generations to come.

#1 -- 2017 Stadium Club #277 Billy Hamilton

As I always do when I hear rumblings of Stadium Club being on the shelves, I quickly took to Ebay to sponge up any and all images of cards from the set I could.

One of the first I came across was this Billy Hamilton, and I immediately fell in love with it. It's one thing to capture an image of baseball's premier speedster on the basepaths, though it's quite another to do so with a perfectly blurred background behind him. Perfect idea, perfect subject, perfect execution. Perfect all around.

Though Stadium Club wound up producing many other worthy competitors after my initial Ebay searches, nothing topped my instant infatuation with Billy Hamilton.

I'd say 2017 has been a strong year for baseball cards thus far but, as it stands now, it (once again) looks like Stadium Club will resume its stranglehold on the Set of the Year crown.

Fourth place is fine with me

Fourth place is a strange place to be.

It's the confusing middle ground between great and dismal. You were good enough to compete at least relatively well, but you also weren't talented enough to take home the gold, silver, or bronze. You're the best also-ran, the most promising loser, the first in line to get nothing.

I know the fourth-place feeling well. I played Little League for five or six years, routinely hit somewhere around .250 (mostly opposite-field singles), and was never the star of any of the teams I played on. I was the definition of a fourth-place finisher. (And I could be wrong, but I seem to have a memory of coming in fourth in one of my elementary school spelling bees.)

So you can understand why I didn't get overly excited about finding out I'd placed fourth in a randomized contest run by the resurgent Julie of "A Cracked Bat" fame a while back. Another slow walk back to my corner. Another outsider's view of the winner's circle.

But then I read the preface to Julie's randomized list: This time we went four rounds, with the fourth person on the list being the winner.

For the first time in my life, I'd actually won something for coming in fourth!

The grand prize was a random stack of goodies from Julie's discard pile, which she's slowly giving away in an attempt to clear out some room following a recent move. And as she's shown me so often during our trading sprees, Julie's also-rans are better than most people's collections.

This recent lot included the '89 UD Nolan Ryan reprint at the top of this post (some gall, Upper Deck, reprinting your cards after only five years of existence) as well as the two recent legends seen above, featuring, again, the Ryan Express himself.

Even Hall of Famers were no-name minor leaguers once, as Obak is so quick to remind us.

A couple prime examples of the LSD trip that was 1990s baseball cards, including laser-etched fireballs and Tim Salmon avoiding some type of avalanche.

I'm seem to be in the majority, in that I've always considered 2002 to be one of the worst Topps designs.

But the set does have some notable moments, including an early image of Big Papi and Albert Pujols as a spry rookie, years before he'd make my feet ache just watching him run to first base during the rare Angels games I catch on TV.

Rookies and legends from Gypsy Queen, an added bonus being that the Pops is a short-print.

Julie was also quick to send along this quartet of awesome horizontals, including a couple fun cards from last year's Stadium Club that I hadn't yet acquired for the frankenset.

Bob Meusel was born in 1896, Giancarlo Stanton in 1989, yet even that wide gap didn't stop either of them from being featured on glorious minis in 2016.

More Stantons for what has quickly become one of my largest player collections of any recent big leaguer, one that's approaching the 300-card barrier as we speak.

Further examples of Julie's uncanny ability to build well-balanced trade packages with these two shiny stars of then and now.

And just when I thought things had reached their breaking point...here came the Kellogg's!

Hard to believe an otherwise lackluster fourth-place finish could result in something as top-notch as these.

We'll close with Hank Aaron, a man who (for what it's worth) is fourth all-time in career runs scored, but mostly made his living at the tops of baseball leaderboards.

No set captures what (I imagine) the '70s were like better than 2001 UD Decade. And while I opened packs and packs of these as a young collector, I'm still shocked to find there's still cards from the checklist I still need, including this tribute to arguably the most iconic moment of the 1970s.

Few remember those who finished in fourth place. It's not a spot people usually equate with success. I doubt there's never been a We're Number Four! chant in the history of recorded sports. But Julie's contest has shown me that, against all odds, there can still be pride and glory in finishing fourth.

In the midst of it all, fourth place is fine with me.

Satisfying my sweet tooth at the flea market

I had a rare Sunday off work this past weekend, and I did what any sane collector in my area would -- I took a trip to the local flea market.

Though the warm, comfortable weather provided a nice backdrop for my stroll through the aisles, I was initially worried that my morning would turn out to be a waste. The penny-box guy from last time wasn't around, none of my regular vendors had cards, and the people who did have cards were obviously out of touch with reality. (Example: I saw someone asking $50 for a 1985 Topps Ryne Sandberg. Yes: fifty, as in five-oh.)

But then I found a guy I remembered from my prior trip to the flea market, the one who sold me my '83 Fleer Tony Gwynn rookie. He informed me that his inventory was all new: in the span of the three weeks since my last flea market outing, he'd sold everything he'd had for sale the last time and had bought an entirely new collection. Talk about turnover.

He had five boxes on display this week, and the first few I dug through yielded mostly overpriced vintage, though I did manage to salvage this nifty '70 Topps Johnny Bench All-Star for what I thought was a fair price at three dollars.

I had three $1 bills in my hand, ready to cash out my lone purchase and somewhat disappointed since, as great as the Bench was, I wasn't too excited at the thought of coming home from the flea market with one measly card in tow.

But that's when I moved on to the two boxes sitting on the right-hand side of the guy's table. And that's when -- as the flea market so often makes me do -- I just about had to rub my eyes to make sure I was seeing things right. My eyes weren't mistaken, and neither are yours: that is, my friends, two whole boxes of nothing but '70s Hostess and Kellogg's. Also known as Cardboard Utopia.

Needless to say, I immediately shoved those three singles right back into my pocket and went to work with 3-D stars in my eyes.

Unlike a lot of the other items the guy had on display, the prices here were first-class: the box on the left was all Kellogg's and priced at $1 each or 20/$15, and the box on the right was a mix of Hostess and Kellogg's at $2 each or 30/$20.

Counting the Bench, I picked up exactly 40 singles from his table for just under $40 total, which means I paid about a buck per card(!) for everything you'll see in this post, Charlie Hustle included.

I'm still at a near loss for words over this find, but I'll say this: both quality- and quantity-wise, I can't remember seeing a better selection of '70s oddballs in one place, and that's counting the numerous card shows I've attended over the years.

I wasn't in front of a mirror at the time, but I must've been exuding excitement, because the vendor saw my face as I was digging through those boxes and said: I'll bet you wish you had a million dollars right now. And I did, because if money wasn't an option, I would've made an offer for both boxes in a heartbeat.

But of course, money is an option for a minimum-wage worker like myself, always: and besides, it's just a lot more fun hunting and pecking for the Fernandos and Sutters and Gooses (Geese?) of the Kellogg's universe.

Most of the Kellogg's I found were in surprisingly fine shape for being 40 years old, but even the cracked ones were more than welcome in Dime Boxedonia for a buck a pop.

Three-dimensional star power.

A couple Reggies, including the only card I've ever seen to list him as "R.M. Jackson" -- a nod to his full name, Reginald Martinez Jackson.

These were the two oldest Kellogg's I found in those boxes, and you couldn't have scripted it much better since I've long been a devout fanatic of both of these guys (I'm just a fan of the Alou family in general).

Even better, these are the first Kellogg's cards I own of either Matty Alou or Harmon Killebrew -- though it is a bit curious, now that I think of it, that the latter didn't pop up in any of the mid '70s Kellogg's sets.

And, my god, we haven't even gotten to the Hostess yet.

Mr. Fuji recently wrote a post about his indecision on whether or not to start collecting Rod Carew. Now, as you probably know, I collect a lot of different guys, but I can say with utmost honesty that Carew is and will always be one of my favorites to chase after.

It's an event every time I find a new card of Rod Carew -- and that goes doubly so for a sweet Hostess card like this one -- so I say do it, Fuji.

More Hostess to satisfy my sweet tooth, fan favorites and Hall of Famers alike.

Early cards of a couple future stars on the best Hostess design of them all -- talk about steals at a buck a piece.

These Boston hurlers made for an especially exciting pair of Hostess finds.

I don't often get an opportunity to add new El Tiantes to the collection (look at all that green grass!), and there aren't many cards of Fergie with the Red Sox in the first place.

With such an alarming amount of '70s goodness in one place, it's almost impossible to pick a single favorite card of the lot, but for now I'll go with Eck here.

This is one I've actually been chasing for a while, and I can assure you that I nearly went into shock when it fell out of that $2 bin since it's one of the more desirable items in the Hostess catalog. I don't think anything from Hostess is officially classified as a rookie card by Beckett standards, but this is a rookie card to me: it was found on the back of Ho-Ho and Twinkie boxes in 1976, the same year Eck's Topps rookie hit the shelves.

If it looks like a rookie card and smells like a rookie card, then it's probably a rookie card...at least in my book.

Jesus, I really don't know what else I can say about my local flea market at this point. One week I find penny cards, the next I stumble upon giant boxes of Kellogg's and Hostess. And hey, I actually have this coming Sunday off work again, so you know where I'll most likely be. Who knows, maybe there'll be a '52 Mantle waiting for me this time.

You laugh, but at this point, I'm not even sure if I'm joking.

How I spent my National Baseball Card Day

This past Saturday was, as you may have heard, National Baseball Card Day, and I participated as best I could.

Dad and I were able to carve out a good chunk of time during the afternoon and hit each of the only three card stores I know of around my general area. I wasn't planning on spending much money -- the only main goal I had was to get this year's exclusive Mike Trout card, only available to those who made a $10 minimum purchase at their local LCS.

Turns out I netted a pair of Trouts, as I (somewhat unintentionally) crossed the $10 threshold at two of the three stops I made on Saturday.

Of course, the packs of free, exclusive six-card National Baseball Card Day packs -- handed out to anyone who stepped foot in a card shop on Saturday -- were one of the main draws of the afternoon as well.

Better yet, each of the shop owners were nice enough to give both my dad and I a free National Baseball Card Day pack despite the fact that my dad didn't spend a single cent on Saturday. This meant that I received 36 cards on the house (38 if you count the two Trouts), giving me a fair shot at completing this year's 30-card NBCD set (featuring one player from each team and a step down from last year's 50-card checklist).

Turns out I didn't get the full set -- there were a fair amount of doubles in the packs I opened -- but I came pretty darn close, and I think we all know that few things in life are better than FREE CARDS.

But National Baseball Card Day is about more than free cards to me -- Topps's decision to revive the hobby-centric holiday is one of the better and encouraging decisions the company has made in the last few years.

Firstly, it gets people out and into the doors of their local card shops. One of the store owners told me that he sees a noticeable increase in business on NBCD. Some of the people who walked in his store on Saturday were regulars, some were probably people he'd never see again (And that's okay, he told me, because that's what the day's all about), but almost none of them would've been there without National Baseball Card Day, myself included.

Secondly, unlike some other kid-centric promotions, NBCD really does seem to attract collectors of a younger age. I saw no less than four sets of fathers and sons/daughters walk into the three card shops I stopped at on Saturday (five if you count my dad and I).

Thirdly, it allows people to sift through some items at their LCS that they might've previously missed out on -- as I did, because my day wasn't all about the free cards.

Destination #1 -- Elite Sports Cards, Chicago, IL

My first stop of the day was at Elite, which probably earns the claim of being my main LCS even though I only go there two or three times a year.

The owner's inventory doesn't change a whole lot, but it changes enough to get me to check in every now and then. The prices aren't anything spectacular, either: everything in the next few scans came from the shop's dollar boxes, not a lot of which I would've paid a buck for under normal circumstances. But this was National Baseball Card Day, after all, and I was happy to support the LCS with a few extra dollars if it netted some new adds to my collection.

My Elite haul included this Vlad from an insert set called "Final Answer" (tough to decipher from the unscan-friendly design) which of course comes from the early 2000's since it features a Who Wants to Be A Millionare? reference.

These actually weren't bad buys at a buck each: a scarce camo parallel depicting AJ Pierzynski's brief stay in Boston, and a high-end issue of Mr. Puig.

This pair of dollar-box finds includes a refractor from the brand spankin' new Topps Chrome release and an obnoxiously thick Jacob deGrom insert -- probably as thick as 6-7 standard cards stacked atop one another.

Some legends from the dollar boxes, including a Willie McCovey parallel numbered to just 99 copies and a rare glimpse of an All-Star Game MVP trophy from the '60s.

I start to salivate any time I see anything from Topps Retired Signature -- which doesn't happen often -- so I was happy to pay a buck a piece for those dueling Robinsons.

Also present was a rare card of Ty Cobb as a Philadelphia Athletic and a nice Gary Carter from another unheralded Topps set: Topps Rookie Cup.

As I left, the shop owner graciously handed me a free pack he had left over from 2006 National Baseball Card Day, one of the last incarnations of the original NBCDs.

Topps and Upper Deck (remember them?) both got in on the fun that year, but I must not have participated at the time since most of the cards in that pack were new to me.

Such a gracious gesture put a happy end to my first stop on National Baseball Card Day.

Destination #2 -- Tim's Baseball Card Shop, Chicago, IL

This is the place that sent me into a semi-coherent rage a couple years ago, but if I could go back in time, I wouldn't have written that post.

That rant came during a period in which I seemed preoccupied with people overpricing their cards, which has always generally been par for the course at Tim's. Now, I don't mind it as much -- people can ask whatever they want for their cards, all I have to do is refuse to pay it. That's all. Plain and simple.

But even with the inflated prices, Tim's seems to do pretty good business -- he was even featured in a Super Bowl commercial a while back. I've been going to this shop on and off for about five or six years now, and Tim was genuinely excited to see my dad and I stop by on Saturday.

And hey, I actually found a decent deal in the rubble of high prices: though he was originally asking $20, Tim let me have this beautiful '62 Kaline for $15, now the oldest card in my collection of his.

Not the Steal of the Century or anything, but a purchase I'm still ecstatic about nonetheless.

Destination #3 -- Sport & Gaming Cards, Niles, IL

My last stop of the day was a bit of a wild card.

This shop is located in a barren mall -- chillingly so, like something out of an old horror movie -- and I honestly didn't even remember the place existed until I noticed it on the list of stores participating in this year's National Baseball Card Day.

The last time I went to this shop was nearly six years ago, and I only remember that because it was right around the time I started this very blog. Those early posts of mine (Bad Writing Alert if you choose to read them) featured a handful of 3/$1 grab bags I picked up, and wouldn't you know it, they were still there all this time later. I grabbed all 12 of the baseball-filled bags the shop had left.

While they were mostly late '80s/early '90s kindling, it still netted a few goodies -- notably some gems from '95 Pinnacle as well as a handful of cards from the 2007 Topps Cubs team set -- and that's not to mention the fun I had digging through those piles of random cards for a mere $4.

There was also a small dollar box off to the side which I don't remember seeing during my last trip to this shop.

Now that he's no longer a Cub, Jorge Soler has been sent out to pasture in discount bins all across Chicago. I'm sure this is the case in almost all big cities whenever a former hometown name gets traded.

I still collect Soler, however, and these are actually pretty good deals for a buck per, including that card on the right, which is a photo-variation short-print.

I'll end the National Baseball Card Day festivities with this Museum Collection David Price from the dollar box, which I picked up for the sole reason that Price is seen wearing a nifty Red Sox throwback here.

That was my National Baseball Card Day, in a nutshell. Free cards, nice deals, good people, and a whole lot of unfiltered fun.

Because that's what this hobby should be all about.