Does anyone else hate the "read receipt" feature on their respective smartphone? As a terrible texter, it's truly not in my best interest that people know when I originally see their text messages. I'm guilty as sin for quickly opening a received message - often times, simply to clear the notification - and then setting my phone back down while I contemplate a response. Then, because I'm as easily distracted as a toddler by the jangling of car keys, I'll start to do the dishes or clean the bathroom or vacuum the carpet or knit a sweater or any number of things and completely forget about the communication. It's not until several hours later that I suddenly have that panicked realization and hastily bang out a heavily auto-corrected response, all the while my erstwhile friend or family member thinks incessantly about how rude I am for giving them the runaround. At least, that's what this insecure blogger fears.
Therefore, I tend to leave that tattling feature toggled off - it's just better that everybody doesn't think I'm willfully ignoring them all the time. I'd rather that they think that I just don't have my device with me, or I'm unable to come to the phone, or that I've been devoured by wildebeests. It's for the best.
However, as much as I dislike "read receipts," I'm about to incriminate myself with one right now. Well, in this instance, it's actually a "Reed receipt:"
That's right, this was all an elaborate (yet truthful) set-up for a downright awful, eye-roll inducing pun. Soak it in - that's the kind of content that Wrigley Roster Jenga has come to be known for.
This post is being drafted to simultaneously thank Jason, of Hoarding Cardboard (one of the best new blogs of 2017, btw), and let him know that I received the autographed 1998 Topps Jeff Reed single that he recently sent my direction - hence, "Reed receipt." In a rare stroke of luck, I happened to win my choice from a group of John Hancock-graced pasteboards in one of the rookie writer's generous "A Season of Giving" giveaways, held throughout the month of December. It arrived in my mailbox on Tuesday, was documented in my collection on Wednesday, and I'm letting him know on Thursday. All in all, that's a pretty quick turnaround... by my standards.
Hang on, Tony - why would you, a noted Cubs fanatic, choose an signed copy of a unassuming Rockies card from one of the most-disliked Topps sets of all-time? Well, hypothetical reader, please allow me to explain.
Reed makes the play at the plate, tagging out San Diego's Adam Eaton (the OG one) on 8/6/00.
You see, Jeff Reed was one of your stereotypical, nomadic back-up catchers. During his lengthy 17-year career in the Bigs, only four times did he get on the turf for more than 100 games, suiting up for five teams along the way. Those teams whose jerseys Reed donned from 1984-00 were the Twins, Expos, Reds, Rockies, and... you guessed it... the Chicago Cubs, the latter of which he closed out his Major League tenure with. In 1999 and 2000, the gruff veteran served as defensively-minded support to starters Benito Santiago and Joe Girardi (who he also played second fiddle to in Denver).
That said, most of the glory in Jeff's playing days was had with the Cincy squad - catching Tom Browning's perfect game in 1988 and winning a World Series ring in 1990, for instance. Nevertheless, a Cub is a Cub and anytime I can add an autographed card of a Cub, even if they're sporting the colors of a National League rival rather than that perfect shade of blue, I'm going to jump at that chance. This time, I just so happened to land the jump!
The guys that Jeff Reed played behind in Chicago.
But, wait! There's more!
As an added bonus, Jeff Reed is a pretty big name in the Chicagoland area for another reason... in all actuality, probably more so than his relatively forgettable stint playing for the North Siders (.236/.329/.322 slash). Notably, the Joliet, IL native was a local product, one who eventually got to play for one of his hometown, MLB clubs. Born and raised in the prison town, Reed honed his skills on the diamond of Joliet West High School (on who's track I closed out my High School track & cross country career) before being selected as a first round draft pick of the Twins - 12th overall - in 1980.
As someone who lived in that South Side haven, off and on, for many years, as well as attending and graduating college from one of the local universities, I have a strong attachment to Joliet. It's a second hometown to me and, thus, any of the 20 bonafide Big Leaguers who hail from that locale are extra special, in my book. Plus, my actual hometown has never produced such a notable athlete.
Oh - and one more thing, I'm pretty sure that, having officially swapped this piece of penmanship into my Cubs All-Time Roster Collection (replacing the 1992 Fleer Ultra you see above), it's the only card from the 1998 Topps Flagship checklist to make it into that exclusive binder. Variety is the spice of life - gotta change it up a little bit!
So, there you have the reasons why I elected to toss my hat in the ring for that particular slip of cardboard. In summation, Jeff Reed is a former Cub, a literal hometown hero, and appearing in a set which is severely under-repped in my most cherished collection. It all makes sense now, doesn't it?
Sure, Reed has a few Cubbie cards on the market which could potentially displace my trophy sometime down the road; as the old saying goes, that's a bridge that I'll cross when I arrive there.
Either his '00 MLB Showdown or '00 Team Issue could complicate matters. But, that would be a good problem.
Jason, it may have taken me three days to finally get around to acknowledging your kind correspondence (not too dissimilar from the snail's pace of an average Tony Burbs text exchange), but your envelope arrived safely and soundly and has been happily absorbed into my card collection. Thank you for holding these wonderful Yuletide giveaways, your abundant generosity, and your attention to detail which comes through in every post found on Hoarding Cardboard.
Speaking of attentiveness, come to think of it, I'm not sure I ever responded to that text that come through from my friend as I sat down to blog... I should probably log off and get to that before something shiny draws me away again. Good thing I have read receipts disabled or I'd certainly have one less amigo.
It happens though, right? I should really stop "Reed-ing" so much into it.
On New Years Day, I kicked off 2018 by musing about one of the most mysterious men to ever don the Chicago Cubs uniform... maybe even the uniform of any Major League club. To recap, a man by the name of Tom Walsh appeared in two games during the late summer months of 1906, while the Cubbies were on their way to a still-standing, single-season record 116 victories. The strange thing about the cameo Cub was that, before or after his cuppacoffee, Mr. Walsh never appeared in another professional contest... not in the majors, not in the minors, not in the independents. Nothing. Where did he come from, where did he go? Where did he come from, Thomas Walsh?
During my winter break research, the internet wasn't too helpful. The various online databases didn't have any info on the mysterious ballplayer, other than his vitals, nor did they have contemporary box scores from the early 20th century. Further complicating matters was that the archives of the Chicago Tribune are behind a paywall and, obsessive as I am, I wasn't willing to drop the dinero. I was hoping to be able to clarify the circumstances behind Walsh's odd career, but no dice.
However, there was a guardian angel perched on my shoulder and I didn't even know it. As the picture which leads off the post might indicate, I was able to eventually get my eyes on newspapers from that historic 1906 season. No, I didn't open my wallet (that's still quite light thanks to holiday shopping) - Peter (from Baseball Every Night) did some digging on my behalf and without prompt. What a guy!
Using a web service that I had previously been unaware of, Newspapers.com, Peter was able to find several contemporary articles, from the Chicago Daily News, that shed some light on the man of mystery known as Tom Walsh. For instance, the paper ran profiles of all the World Series bound Cubs on October 7th (seen, in full, above) in the lead up to the big Crosstown Clash. Despite only playing in two official games, none of which were WS tilts, Walsh got a brief write-up:
They sure were fascinated by the marital status of baseballers in those days, huh? At any rate, the St. Mary's College alumni never appeared in a pro game before his Cubs career because he signed almost straight out of school. You don't see this sort of thing very often in the modern days; but, back when the minor leagues were their own entities and not just a farm system for the Bigs, it wasn't such a rarity.
So, Walsh went pro that July and rode the bench as an understudy to main catchers, Johnny Kling and Pat Moran. Although, he did appear in a handful of exhibition games along the way, while he developed his skills, as this recap of a contest against Providence indicates. Heck, his appearance actually made the subtitle:
After that pro debut, Tommy would see action in at least two more exhibitions against minor league clubs. Eventually, the rube would get his chance to perform in bonafide, National League action. In both instances, as I originally posited, he came in during blowouts to relieve the starter behind the dish. His maiden voyage occurred on August 15th:
Although, that first laugher almost became a disaster and it looks as though at least one writer thought that the green Walsh might have had a role in that near-collapse. Attempting to close out the win over the Dodgers, Carl Lundgren experienced a sudden bout of wildness and proceeded to give up seven runs in the ninth inning, after being paired with the rookie signal caller. All things considered, I highly doubt that it's a coincidence that Tom then stayed planted firmly on the pine for almost the entire remaining schedule. Chance finally let Walsh attempt redemption on September 26th, long after the Cubs had clinched the pennant:
Although no one knew it at the time, this September 26th appearance would be the last time Tom Walsh would ever again take the field.
*Sidenote* Though it was quite common across the baseball landscape for the periodicals of the time to bestow their own monikers upon local nines, why the Chicago Daily News chose the nickname of "Spuds" for the Chicago National League Ballclub, I have no idea. "Cubs" had entered the lexicon, in an article of their own publication, back in 1902; but, apparently it was not yet standardized. Since 1869, the team has also been known as the White Stockings, Remnants, Orphans, Zephyrs, Microbes, and Colts. Anyway, I would love to know the origin of their starchy sobriquet.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, despite the lack of on-field results, Tom Walsh's manager - Frank Chance - was bullish on the rookie's raw talent and the outlook of his baseball career:
However, Mr. Walsh must not have shared his "Peerless Leader's" prescription for rose-colored glasses. During the off-season, Walsh informed his skip that he would not be donning a Cubs uniform in 1907. In fact, the college-educated man traded in the wool collars of a baseball uniform for the white collars of a business man's shirt:
Again, Walsh makes the sub-heading - apparently, his grooming was of some interest during the time. Also, remember, this was the pre-Wrigley Field era, when the Cubs played on the West Side of the city.
Thanks to this December 30th write-up, we now understand why Tom Walsh disappeared from the baseball landscape so suddenly, he decided to go into the railroad business with his father. How successful he was in that endeavor remains a mystery; but, at least we now know what became of the would-be backstop.
With that, we've filled in most of the gaps from the mysterious tale of Tom Walsh - he was signed straight out college, rode the pine for months and played mostly in exhibitions as he studied the game, made his two, lone MLB appearances during garbage time, and then promptly and permanently retired from the national pastime in order to make it in the lucrative railroad industry. In those pre-air travel days, when the automobile was still in it's infancy, railroad tycoons loomed large in our country and were the kings of commerce. There's little doubt that making it in that business would be much more lucrative for a young, educated man than playing for peanuts in baseball. Seeing as he already had an "in" with trains, I can't say I blame him for making that decision.
And, again, we now know all of this thanks to Peter and his tireless research on Newspapers.com, with which he has an account. Thank you, Pete!
Since no baseball card blog post is complete without the inclusion of at least one baseball card, here's the post card that pulled both Pete and I down the rabbit hole. I thought it was strange that a two-game wonder should make the team photograph; but, as we learned, Walsh was actually with the team throughout the summer and fall, despite his sporadic appearances. It all makes so much more sense now.
After putting in much more thought on the matter than any grown man should and listening to everyone weigh in on the original post, I've decided to include this reprinted postcard in my marquee Cubs All-Time Roster Collection as representation for the man of the hour. Most agreed with me that it's the best pictorial rep that can be acquired (obviously, his blink and you missed it career did not earn him solo pasteboard recognition) and so it is therefore an appropriate selection, in this particular case.
With that, it's been a long time coming - more than two years and hours of research by two different baseball card bloggers - but, welcome to the CATRC collection, Tom Walsh!
I can say, with authority, mystery solved and case closed... finally. It's a good think Peter stepped in when he did because I was getting ready to call in someone else for backup in solving this mystery:
I've been sitting on this package for more than a week and I'm just now, finally, getting around to posting about - as the great Bruce Springsteen once mused, "time slips away." However, it didn't leave me with "nothing mister," as this mailer included a healthy amount of excellent cardboard. I hope that Kin, from I Feel Like a Collector Again and Bean's Ballcard Blog, can forgive me for taking so long to show off the goods; the holidays really screwed with my posting timeline this year.
Of course, in my defense, I had no idea that this package was coming my way. Kin, in the spirit of the season, dropped this grouping in the mail as a gift, a surprise gift. I'm never going to complain about free baseball cards; there are few things in the world that are guaranteed to bring a smile to my face quite like finding cards in my mailbox, especially when they're unexpected. That sort of goodwill is always makes it feel like Christmas, even if it occurs in the middle of July.
The ever-go-generous Kin apparently noticed that I commented about how cool the following card was and still is. I can honestly say I never expected such a gesture, but just a little while later, Kin made sure that said card ended up on my sorting table:
You might say that the gifting of this 1998 Topps Stars Kerry Wood was out of this world! How cool is this space age design?
As an added bonus (something I didn't know when I first pined over it), it turns out that this card is numbered 5,374/9,799. So, it's not exactly an exclusive piece, but I bet this rookie card printed in the wake of Woody's famed 20-K game booked for a stupid amount of money at that time. I wasn't actively collecting at that time; but, had I been, I'm sure I would have drooled over this card and it's attainability. Now, it's just a far-out looking card and it's all mine!
That selfless donation to my collection would have been phenomenal on it's own, but Kin wasn't about to stop there either. Accompanying what is now one of my favorite Kid K cards, Mr. Kinsley also tossed a few other gifts in this magnanimous mailing.
Hmmmmm.... a White Sox card, eh? I mean, I'm not going to complain about free cards and I love cards which spotlight baseball in the first half of the 20th century and earlier, but I was still left scratching my head about Ed Walsh's inclusion
...until I flipped that Fleer Baseball's Famous Feets over to the other side, that is. I must admit, the incongruity of a big, ol' Cubs sticker slapped on the back of a White Sox card brings a big smile to my face. It adds a certain je ne sais quoi to an already fun, 80's oddball.
Sticking with the horizontal orientation, let's flip to the next card:
Fast forwarding nearly 30 years, we have a wonderful fielding shot of short-term, rebuild Cub, Nate Schierholtz. In another 30 years, this guy will be filed under the "he played for the Cubs category?" but this photo will make Nate the Great look like a Gold Glover!
Besides just the excellent photography, this parallel to the 2014 Flagship base set also features beautiful, blue borders. I'm sure that Kin has read here on Wrigley Roster Jenga and comments sections across the blogosphere that, when it comes to parallels, blue is my all-time favorite color. When you consider that I'm a rabid, blue-blooded Cubs fan who's entire collection is based on those who sport Cubbie Blue, that fact really should not come as a surprise. All in all, Nate has never looked greater than he does here.
Finally, we have the card that actually stole the spotlight. As great as everything else in this mailer was, it was this bad boy that immediately caught my eye... and not just because it's super-duper shiny:
This 2012 Upper Deck Goodwin Champions mini foil parallel (whew, that's a mouthful) doesn't photograph well because it's almost as reflective as a mirror; that said, it's quite nice, in hand. Also, it's almost poetic that Matt Szczur ascended from a Goodwin Champion in 2012 to a World Series Champion in 2016. Though he's now a Padre, "Scrabble" will be a "forever Cub," courtesy of being an extra outfielder for that curse busting squad.
All that being noted, it was still yet another quality that truly drew my attention. Upper Deck obviously does not have an MLB license and, in order to get around that fact, they pictured Matt in his Villanova Football t-shirt. For those that didn't know, the fly-chaser was a highly touted NFL prospect during his time as a two-sport athlete for the Wildcats. The would-be wide receiver drew a hefty signing bonus when he was drafted by the previous front office to keep him from continuing his gridiron career.
I got this 2011 Upper Deck 20th Anniversary single from Bob Walk the Plank
In the recent past, I've started a small side-collection of cards which feature multi-sport Cubs players competing in their secondary athletic endeavor. In fact, just a few days ago, I showcased a pair of "Ken Lofton" basketball cards that were given to me by Angus from Dawg Day Cards. I'm considering this card to be close enough to a Szczur football card to be included in this particular binder.
Given the relative limited possibilities for this collection, I'm thrilled to be able to add another dual-sported card to it's pages!
With that, we've covered all of the pasteboard goodies which Kin altruistically gifted to me during the Christmas season. As you can plainly see, this package pretty much blew me out of the water. Again, I'm sorry it took so long for me to acknowledge your generosity on the blog, Mr. Kinsley!
This post serves as further evidence that there is no more generous kind of people on this planet than baseball card bloggers. Thank you Kin and thank you everyone who took the time to gift me with trading cards in 2018. I've been a little slow on returning the favor (getting married and moving has messed with organization); however, I assure you that I will be paying you all back in the very near future.
Those who have been reading Wrigley Roster Jenga for a while might be aware of the fact that I work in IT for a local school district. Though I am not a teacher, I still get a lot of the same treatment and benefits; thus, currently, I'm about halfway into my two-week holiday break. When I was a kid, there was no more exciting time of year (well, except for summer break) - two weeks of no school and countless festivities. As an adult, having this bonus time off has it's advantages, even though it's no longer filled with visits to Toys R Us, sledding down Belly Button Hill, and building snowmen with fellow children on the block. Thus far, I've plowed through my honey-do list, done some side jobs for friends, and the apartment has never been cleaner.
However, being married to a lovely wife who is not lucky enough to be off with me and being without a large house to take care of or children to worry about, I've discovered that the days can get quite long when eight hours aren't being sopped up by work. First world problems, am I right?
As such, I've been reviewing parts of my card collection that I've long neglected, including my miscellaneous over-sized, oddball items. Among the signed photo printouts, Fatheads, newspaper posters, and other items of that ilk, I re-discovered a postcard that I brought home from just the second card show that I ever attended:
That right there is the team photo for one of the greatest baseball teams of all-time, the 1906 Cubs. Beginning a string of three straight pennants, that Frank Chance-led club set the longstanding record for wins in a season. Their mind-boggling 116 triumphs was later equaled by the 2001 Seattle Mariners, but has yet to be bested, 111 years later. However, as dominant as the Cubbies were in the regular season, they were bounced by their crosstown rivals, "the Hitless Wonders" White Sox, in that year's World Series. The Sox earned that moniker for having the AL's worst cumulative team batting average (.230). That's baseball for ya.
Anyway, I remember that this item caught my eye as I was preparing to leave the show and I still had a few singles burning a hole in my pocket. The top-loader that it was displayed in kept me from noticing that it was printed on paper no thicker than your average printer stock and obscured the very obvious "facsimile" notation on the bottom left. Sadly, I did not notice these traits until I got home.
It's not like I thought I was getting a century-plus year old postcard for four bucks; however, I was hoping for a higher quality modern piece or at least a better quality reprint. I felt duped and almost immediately stashed it away in a box, to be forgotten, because I was a tad bitter.
However, there was a very specific reason that I purchased this replica in the first place... a reason beyond the fact that it featured one of the best squads ever fielded by my favorite franchise. Rather, the reason centered around a very specific member of that record-setting team. With a bunch of free time on my hands, it wasn't long before I was hooked back on the mysterious case of an almost transient member of that legendary group.
Behold, Tom Walsh - international man of mystery.
According to the various baseball databases, we know that he was a right-hander who stood 5'11" and weighed 170 lbs. We also know that he was born on February 28th, 1885 in Davenport, IA, died on March 16th, 1963 in Naples, FL, and was buried back in his hometown.
As far as his performance on the diamond, we know that, at 21, Mr. Walsh appeared in two games for the 1906 Chicago Cubs - August 15th and September 26th. The youngster caught three innings (making one putout) and notched one plate appearance (striking out) between the two contests - that is the complete summary of his Major League career. In fact, that is the final word on his entire professional baseball career, altogether. Tom Walsh never appeared in another pro baseball game, Major or minor or independent, prior to his cameo with the Cubs or for the rest of his life afterwards. Not a single one. How bizarre is that?
Information on this incredibly obscure ballplayer is scarce and, if not for this photograph, he might have just been written off as a "ghost player" scoring error. As a matter of fact, after spending a few hours researching the matter (because this is how I chose to spend my downtime), this team photo is the only time that Walsh appears to have been captured on film - heck, even his Baseball Reference photo is just a cropped version of this same snapshot. What is his story? The mystery has long captured my imagination.
The regular catchers for the '06 Cubs - courtesy of Galasso's reprints of the 1911 Turkey Red cabinets
Initially, my theory was that the mid-westerner was a local sandlot or semi-pro player who the Cubs called upon in a pinch. The theoretical move would have been needed after an injury to one of their two primary catchers, Johnny Kling and Pat Moran... not unlike an Eric Semborski-esque, emergency goalie situation in the NHL. After all, those three were the only men to don the tools of ignorance for the West Siders that season; thus, any affliction suffered by the regular duo would have left the club in a pickle. Furthermore, in the rough and tumble, early days of our sport, before farm systems or air travel, this sort of move wasn't all that uncommon - you have to fill that slot somehow. However, I cannot find the contemporary box scores in order to confirm the absence of either one of the two catchers. Furthermore, the fact that his two appearances with the clubs are so far spaced out adds another interesting wrinkle to the case.
Another possibility is that Walsh was a sort of hanger-on with the club who was called upon to suit up and rest the starters, similar to the appearances of batting practice pitcher, Hank Grampp, twenty-one years later. Well on their way to the pennant, the Cubs won each of Tom's appearances by scores of 10-7 and 12-7 respectively and were significantly ahead in the standings in both instances, so it's not as if Chance needed to ride his regulars as part of a tight pennant race.
Or, it could be some other combination of the roles and situations that I've posited above. I'm truly puzzled as to how we know all about his vitals and stats but know nothing about his background or circumstances, especially in a sport as obsessed with record-keeping and history as baseball. The bottom line is that I can't find anything concrete about Tom Walsh anywhere on the internet and I'm completely baffled by this fact.
Funny enough, though facts were few and far between, I was able to find someone else as obsessed with Walsh as I currently am. Of course, this blogging New York Mets fan finds himself wondering whether or not he might be a reincarnated version of the mystery Cub. It's all done very tongue-in-cheek, but his self-examination uncovers a few bizarre coincidences. The post is worth a read if you have a few minutes to kill... and, let's be real, if you're reading my ramblings, you have a few minutes to kill.
Switching back to baseball cards for a moment, remember that my ultimate goal in collecting is to obtain at least one card of every single man to ever don a Chicago Cubs uniform. In the long run, this is a fool's errand - when a franchise's history dates back to the Reconstruction Era, there's going to be some people who slip through the proverbial cracks. But, with that in mind, isn't it amazing that a man we know so precious little about actually rears his head on a baseball card? Or does he?
In the end, I'm now left asking myself (as I did when I originally purchased this facsimile postcard in the winter of 2015), "does this count as a baseball card and should it be considered for inclusion in my CATRC?"
Postcards and reprints are no strangers to my CATRC pages.... far from it.
On the first point, I've long made it known that I consider postcards which feature baseball players to be baseball cards- hell, I even have greeting cards with ball-players on them in my binders. The bottom line is that any kind of card with a baseball theme is a baseball card, in my eyes; I'm a very inclusive fellow. Although, I must admit, the fact that it such a cheap, facsimile/reprint on what barely constitutes card stock and hails from origins unknown continues to give me pause. But, again, it's not like I don't have other reprints residing with my CATRC.
On the latter point, should a team photo be admitted for representation of a singular player? I don't know - it kind of feels like cheating. That said, there are several multi-player cards serving the purpose for individual athletes in my pages, some with as many as four or five different people sharing the spotlight; so, is Walsh's situation really all that different? Plus, this photo even goes to the trouble of individually listing out the members of the team in question. Finally, as I brought up earlier in this post, this photograph appears to be the only time Tom "Big Foot" Walsh was caught on celluloid. So, it's not like I have a ton of options here and I want complete as much of my ultimate goal as is humanly possible. Allowing for this inclusion would bring me that much closer. Still, this would be the first team photo card to make the ranks.
I suppose there is one further option, besides tracking down a better quality reprint or original printing of the same postcard. One that would allow me to focus on Walsh and Walsh alone:
There's a Walsh Strat card in this lot image swiped from Ebay, just casually peeking out between a pair of HOF'ers.
Strat-O-Matic has long been the industry standard for table-top baseball simulation. Admittedly, I do not know how to play the sim, but I do know that it runs through cards... over-sized cards without pictures and that feature specially determined, game-play statistics on the front. They aren't exactly attractive or particularly collectible outside of their value to the game; but, surprisingly, Tom Walsh makes an uber rare appearance in the team set for the 1906 Cubs.
In a Q and A session hosted by noted game authority, Glen Guzzo, a curious user mentioned the inclusion of the two-game wonder in his newly purchased set, wondering how often such a minor player might make it into the Strat ranks. Here's what Guzzo had to say about it:
Very, very few players with fewer than 10 at-bats have earned cards. But in Strat-O-Matic’s early days of 20-player teams, occasionally a team would get only 19 cards because there was no one else with enough at-bats or innings pitched worth carding. The 1905 New York Giants, from the same set as your 1906 Cubs, had only 17 players, although 13-at-bat Offa Neal was not carded. In the computer game, however, Strat-O-Matic has been giving ratings to every player with at least 1 at-bat or 1 inning pitched.
So, I suppose tracking down a Walsh Strat stat card is another option for filling his slot - I mean, I do have APBA (another baseball simulation based around stat cards) in my CATRC. On the flip-side, I *definitely* prefer a photographic card when available and, technically, one is available and a (reprint) copy is already in my possession.
As of yet, no other option has presented itself for Clyde Beck or Footsie Blair - so, game cards it is.
As of this evening, I think I've finally made my decision, after two years of kicking the can down the road. That being acknowledged, I'm still curious to hear your opinions. How do you think I should handle this dilemma? What would you do in my size 11.5 shoes? Please illuminate me in the comments section below.
Furthermore, if you have any further information about the international man of mystery better known as Tom Walsh, please feel free to let me know - I'd love to fill in the massive gaps in my knowledge. I suppose if I REALLY wanted to, I could hop a train downtown and dig through the Chicago Public Library's newspaper archives. I'm awfully curious, but I'm not THAT curious... at least, not yet.
All of this internal struggle, all of this intensive research, all of this second guessing of my collecting methods... all of this because I had a few days of free time and a Christmas break. Maybe I need another hobby just to get away from my main hobby?
Congratulations to everyone reading this - you're less than 24 hours away from officially surviving the tumultuous year of 2017. Was this 365-day period really any more troublesome than any other? I don't know - but, between the political upheaval, natural disasters, violence, culture wars, etc. it sure did seem like it. Here's hoping that 2018 is the start of a brighter future.
That's enough being negative, I'm sure a lot of good stuff happened too. For me, personally, 2017 brought me marriage to my beautiful wife, a cozy new apartment, a much needed career-switch for my bride, the engagement of my father-in-law to a wonderful woman, and high school graduations by a pair of my sisters, among other positive happenings. Furthermore, seeing as this is a baseball card blog, it would be quite remiss of me not to mention that this year provided a bountiful boon to my treasured Cubs All-Time Roster Collection.
All told, since January 1st, 2017, I've added 51 new names and faces to my marquee binder. Let's review, in the order of their addition:
Brett Anderson Doug Clemens David Shean
Jim Gleeson Billy Myers Billy Rogell
Gordon Massa Bill Johnson Jeff Cross
Dylan Floro Eddie Butler Ian Happ
Pierce Johnson Seth Frankoff Frank Secory
Mark Zagunis Victor Caratini Jack Leathersich
Jose Quintana Les Sweetland Joe Stephenson
Jimmy Johnston Ray Harrell John Ganzel
Billy Maloney Bill Bradley Jake Weimer
Johnny Bates Jake Buchanan Red Lynn
Dick Culler Ralph Hamner
Alex Avila Justin Wilson
Rene Rivera Dillon Maples Mike Freeman
Leonys Martin Jimmy Adair Jen-Ho Tseng
Johnny Hudson Ed Sauer Lloyd Christopher
Bill Faul Footer Johnson Rube Novotney
John Pyecha Vern Morgan Tyler Chatwood
Brandon Morrow Drew Smyly Steve Cishek
John Flavin Ray Prim Walt Woods
Names written in light blue indicate players that were also added to the Cubs all-time roster as I added them to my binder - in other words, player transactions. I was able to keep with almost all of these live edits this year, except noted staring contest champion, Taylor Davis; to paraphrase Meatloaf, 21 out of 22 ain't bad. So, if you see an extra TD lying around, please feel free to drop me a line.
Fifty-five seems like a significant amount of damage for just one calendar year. For comparison's sake, last year was the only other year in which my record keeping was reliable enough to determine my 12-month progress; in 2016, I was able to cross off an additional 58 names from my "need" list. Thus, my progress was minimally stunted in the year of the fidget spinner, but not significantly so. I'm quite happy with what I accomplished with my CATRC this year.
Besides plain completion numbers, I was able to land some big fish this year, including 11 cards that I would consider to be super vintage (pre-1950), create a pair of custom card TTM successes, make my very first trip the National Convention, and establish a personal connection with oddball card producer, Carl Aldana. Plus, it doesn't hurt to close out the year with what is, by far, the best month for readership that this blog has ever experienced. This December, Wrigley Roster Jenga has had nearly 9,500 views - a 2,000 count increase over November and more than double the next best month in the blog's history. We're definitely closing out 2017 on a high note!
All in all, 2017 was a very big year for my baseball card collection and blogging. I want to take this moment to thank all of you out there who read my ramblings and, for some reason, continue to come back for more. Thank you for trading with me an sending out packages as random acts of kindness. Thank you for writing your own wonderful blogs which supply me with endless hours of enjoyable reading material. Thank you for helping to create, foster, and be a part of a phenomenal community of supportive collectors - without this outlet, I would have finally taken up residence in Crazy Town years ago!
The world might be a mess, but this community has provided me plenty of hope and served as a welcome distraction throughout the chaos of 2017. If baseball card bloggers ran the world, I think it would be a much better place. Here's hoping things begin to straighten out in the year ahead and 2018 has a much much different overall tone.
