Topps Top 60 Cards part 3: Music, milestones and a mascot

Continuing our march through the top 60 Topps cards of all time, it appears that this third installment also happens to include a fair number of cards from a certain, Queens-based baseball team.


No. 40: 1972 Jim Fregosi Boyhood Photo
Jim Fregosi: All-Star infielder, killer accordion player. Trading Nolan Ryan probably made a lot more sense to fans once this card came out and they learned that Fregosi was a man of many skills. Most of the boyhood cards in the magnificent 1972 set showed the players in their Little League uniforms. Not Fregosi. No, he’s brandishing that massive accordion, ready to burst out a lethal version of “Lady of Spain.” And the crazy thing is the back of the card details Jim youth league exploits and never once mentions his apparent musical skills.


No. 39: 2006 Oliver Perez
Perez is one of those players who seem to always have a sharp-looking action card. But I like this one best. Because if Ollie is on the bench, then he’s not in the game, walking the bases loaded and then giving up a grand slam. The odds of the Mets winning increase dramatically if Ollie is not playing.


No. 38: 1979 Ed Kranepool
In the days when card companies released only one set a year, Steady Eddie undoubtedly held the record for most appearances on cardboard by a Met. But 1979 was the last of his 18 seasons. This photo almost looks like Krane is tipping his cap to fans saluting him for a fine career.


No. 37: 1973 Yogi Berra
Topps rarely added coaches to the manager cards, and it was nice to see Rube Walker, Roy McMillin, Eddie Yost and Joe Pignatano getting some recognition in the 1973 and 1974 sets.


No. 36: 1989 Lenny Dykstra
I met Dykstra at a card show in Manhattan around the time this card came out. He seemed really nice when I asked him too sign my Mets book, and to add his nickname “Nails.” He did – and spelled it wrong, realized the error and tried to fix it. Sharpies are unforgiving. He sheepishly slid the book back across the table.


No. 35: 2007 Mr. Met
Topps started to give Mr. Met and less-worthy mascots some love the Opening Day sets. Note the assistant with the T-shirt launcher. I’m reminded of the television ad with Mr. Met sneaking into the empty stands before a game and launching shirts at an unsuspecting grounds crew member, then attempting to duck behind a seat. “Dude, I can see like 80 percent of your head!”


No. 34: 1964 Jim Hickman
The 1962 Mets were a collection of faded stars, the under-skilled and a few youngsters with some potential. Count Hickman in the last category. He was a solid player and holds some milestones, including being the first Met to hit for the cycle. He hit the last homer in the Polo Grounds and was the first Met to hit three homers in one game. He also was the last of the original Mets. Hickman later represented the Cubs in the 1970 All-Star Game and smashed the 12th-inning hit that drove Pete Rose around third and barreling into Ray Fosse.


No. 33: 1976 Rusty Staub
This portrait of a smiling Daniel Joseph Staub makes it pretty clear how he came to be known as “Rusty,” and “Le Grande Orange,” hero to Canadians. Alas, Staub was know by another name by the time this card came out: Detroit Tiger right fielder. Yet another bad trade by the Mets, and incoming Mickey Lolich didn’t even play the accordion.


No. 32: 2000 Robin Ventura
Ventura’s Grand Slam Single in the rain during the 15th inning of Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS is easily one of the Mets most glorious post-season memories. But there have actually been two other grand slam singles, though none as dramatic. In 1970, the Tigers’ Dalton Jones accidently passed teammate Don Wert while rounding the bases. And on July 4, 1976 Fox broadcaster and know-it-all Tim McCarver must have been too enthralled by the bicentennial celebration because he passed teammate Garry Maddox. As for Ventura, the lighting on this 2000 card is just perfect.


No. 31: 1969 Nolan Ryan
And we close out the first third of our countdown with Nolan Ryan, before he was traded for a musician. Look closely at Nolan’s glove. That would be the ball nestled in the webbing. Ryan was famous for his blazing fastball, supposedly throwing so hard that batters could barely see it. Or, as this card suggests, Ryan was just really good at the old hidden ball trick.

Baseball place No. 49: Yogi Berra Museum; and No. 49A: Minute Maid Park

Yogi Berra’s complicated.

He had all those years as a Yankee, even managing them to the World Series. Then, as if he suddenly realized just how tragic that was, Yogi sought redemption by signing with the Mets for a couple games.

Eventually, of course, Yogi managed the Mets to the “You Gotta Believe” pennant of 1973.

Sadly, proving that you can get sucked back in to the dark side, Yogi ended up in the Bronx again.

Apparently he also ended up in New Jersey, where he is the subject of the Yogi Berra Museum and Learning Center.

Josh Pahigian takes us there as place No. 49 in the “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I try to limit my exposure to Yankeedom and New Jersey, so I’ve never been there.

But it’s a little known fact that Yogi spent time with another team, including one that staged an epic battle against our Mets. That would be the Houston Astros.

Yes, Yogi wore the rainbow-sleeved uniforms as an Astros bench coach in 1986.

That leads me to:

Alternative place No. 49A: Minute Maid Park

Here’s another adventure from the archives.

I usually don't mind a layover of an hour or two while traveling. But I confess that I was dragging on my way home from an education writers' conference in Houston in December 2004.

The conference itself was very helpful, our hosts at the Houston Chronicle were awesome and the city itself was nicer than I imagined.

But I usually try to work a baseball adventure into each of my work-related journeys, and this time I fell pretty short.

Minute Maid Park is downtown, but was a pretty good walk from where we were meeting, at least too long for a patented "got lost coming back from the rest rooms" side trips.

I made it to the yard 15 minutes before the gift shop closed. The clerk let me in, but wasn't particularly excited about it. I was able to snag an American League All-Star Game jersey on a clearance rack, but couldn't give the place the usual once-over that I like. And the shop was closed the rest of the weekend.

The store entrance is off a nice-looking lobby of what I believe was Houston's old train station, but I couldn't get any photos of the field or inside the stadium.

Keith feared that if Jesse threw another fastball, this pennant would say "NL Champs" instead.

There were some interesting things outside, like statues of Jeff Bagwell and Craig Biggio, but it was getting dark and my photos were disappointing. And the Biggio statue was actually kind of scary.

Bagwell, above, and the "Biggio as zombie searching for brains" statues.

It seemed odd since you usually don’t see statues of active players.

The park looked like a nice place to see a game, though. And I could see the home run train – decorated for Christmas – through the window.

Houston had another neat statue. There was a new park dedicated to President George H.W. Bush. Baseball + presidents = successful road trip.


And while I like cruising through airports, the trip home isn't as exciting as the first time through, especially in Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport.

I'd already ridden the underground train and explored all the gift shops and food courts. The only baseball items were related to the Braves, and you know I want no part of such things.

So I was aimlessly wandering one of the terminals, and I saw one of the gates decorated with tons of red, white and blue balloons. I assumed there must have been some soldiers returning from Iraq, and thought it would be a nice pick-me-up to see our heroes getting off a plane and into the arms of their families.

But within a minute or two, there was an announcement over the public address system: "Delta Airlines, the official airline of the 2004 World Champion Boston Red Sox, is proud to announce the arrival of a very special passenger, the 2004 World Series trophy."

What? You gotta be kidding me! The actual World Series trophy?

And sure enough, after all the passengers deplaned, the pilot and co-pilot walked into the gate area holding the trophy high. They placed it on a table surrounded by balloons, and people were allowed to pose for photos.

It was actually the first time I saw a legitimate use for those dopey cell phone cameras. Luckily, I had my own camera handy, and a Delta employee offered to snap the photo.


Officially known as the Commissioner's Trophy, it was first presented to the World Series winner in 1967, when the Cardinals beat the Red Sox in 7 games. The trophy features flags with each of the 30 teams on it and the World Series champion gets to keep it because a new one is made each year.

I've always thought the World Series trophy was cool because it is very different from the lame Super Bowl and NBA championship awards. You know exactly what it is at first glance.

I must say it was quite a thrill. I got to touch it and everything, and looked for the little pennant with the Mets name on it.

The Mets 1969 trophy is unique -- it's the only one to have the Seattle Pilots on it.

Naturally I had a lot of questions, namely why in the heck was the World Series trophy making an appearance in the Atlanta airport? I had heard that the Sox were sending it on a tour of New England and even their spring training home in Fort Myers.

But the Atlanta airport? Did the trophy ride in coach or first class? Did they try to charge it $5 for a “snack pack” that included 50 cents worth of pretzels, peanuts and Combos? Did some jerk in the seat in front of it drop his seat back down moments as soon as he could? And did the flight attendant roll her eyes when it asked for a full can of Diet Coke instead of a small, ice-filled plastic cup?

Not that such things have happened to me.

And what the heck was Yogi doing serving as the Astros bench coach?

Not that these nagging details stopped me from having fun. Talk about good timing! And it just goes to show that you never know when a good baseball adventure can happen.

"El Duque" joins Mets all-nickname team

Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez has been with the Mets for a week, and he’s already assumed a valuable spot.

Of course, I’m talking about the Mets’ All-Nickname team.

Nicknames are an important part of baseball, the Mets have had some of the best, especially in those early years.
But first the ground rules: No one makes the team with a lame Chris Berman name. By and large, I think they’re dopey and not something an average fan would throw out there.

A proper nickname has to roll off the tongue and be universally recognized and even stand on it’s own. When you say "The Franchise," everybody knows who you are talking about.

Another rule: Shortened last names don’t count. Sorry "Straw" and "Maz." There's one near exception, and we'll get to that in a minute.

First Base: “Marvelous Marv" Throneberry
If there was ever a man destined to be a Met, it was Marvin Eugene Throneberry. His play left something to be desried. OK, a lot to be desired. But Marv was a colorful guy, and all we had in those early years was color. The other option was Dave "Kong" Kingman, but I just don't like him very much.

Second base: Elijah Jerry “Pumpsie” Green
Green is famous for integrating the Red Sox, but he closed out his career by appearing in 17 games for the 1963 Mets, hitting .278 with one homer. He came in a trade with Tracy Stallard for Felix Mantilla, a trifecta of unusual names. The Sox later restored blandness by adding a guy named Al Moran as the player to be named later.

Third base: Howard “HoJo” Johnson
As you have no doubt guessed, this is the near exception to the no shortened last name rule. In this case, we get the shortened first and last names. This guy was so good they named a restaurant after him. Seriously, what were his parents thinking? And once the Mets had a guy in their minor league system named Ronald McDonald. Imagine if HoJo and Mickey D were ever on the same team?

Shortstop: Derrel McKinley “Bud” Harrelson
Truth is, shortstop is the weak spot in the lineup. I love Buddy, don't get me wrong. It's not just the strongest nickname out there.

Outfield:
Daniel Joseph “Rusty” Staub, "Le Grande Orange"
Mr. Staub was such a good player that he needed two nicknames, one in French. I’m guessing the names stem from his red hair, but we should never assume too much. Rusty of course had two runs with the Mets, the second of which inspired a third name, “Guy who doesn’t run or play in the field.”

Roger “You Suck” Cedeno
I confess I am perplexed by this one. But it seemed like every time mild-mannered Roger was introduced, I’d hear “You Suck Cedeno!” which seems like an unusual nickname. Perhaps it comes from Cedeno’s magical power to turn opponent's routine flyball outs into triples.

Lenny "Nails" Dykstra and William Hayward "Mookie" Wilson
They were platooned on the Mets, so they share that fate here as well. Dykstra liked to think he was tough as nails. I met at a card show once and asked him to sign the glorious Mets book. As he was signing I asked him if he could write "Nails" there as well. He misspelled it, looked up and sheepishly said "Oops" and tried to fix it. So that goes to show you that while Dykstra might have been tough as nails, he was not sharp as a tack. Mookie, who had no trouble spelling his name, has transcended sports with a name that has since been bestowed to countless pets.

Back-up outfielder: George Basil “Stork” Theodore
Stork was a monster in the minors but his time at Shea is probably best remembered by his horrific collision with Don Hahn in 1973 that broke his hip. Stork ended up hitting just .219 with two homers in his career, but was fondly remembered a colorful character. And as the cartoon on the back of his 1974 Topps card says, “George likes marshmallow mikeshakes.”

Catcher: Clarence “Choo Choo” Coleman
“Choo Choo” was a bit of a mystery. He called everyone “Bub.” There’s a famous story about Coleman appearing on Kiner’s Korner, and Ralph, frustrated by the short non-answers he was getting, tried to lighten Coleman up by asking “Choo Choo, what is your wife’s name, and what’s she like?” His response: “Her name is Mrs. Coleman, and she likes me, Bub.” The real mystery is how Coleman got on the show in the first place, since it was reserved for the stars of that day’s game. Coleman appeared in 106 games in 1963 despite hitting a whopping .178. And it’s not like he was any good in the field, he had 15 errors. But his name was good enough to beat Don Robert "Duffy" Dyer.

Starting rotation
George Thomas Seaver "The Franchise"
Any Mets rotation begins with Seaver, of course! He was probably called "Tom Terriffic" more often.

Wilmer David "Vinegar Bend" Mizell
I assume he is called that because he was born in Vinegar Bend, Alabama. Mizell had some nice years with the Pirates, but like the rest of the 1962 team, there was very little left in the tank and he was released after 17 games and a nasty 7.34 ERA. He later went on to join an even more suspect group of misfits -- the U.S. Congress!

Dwight "Dr. K," "Doc" Gooden
Gooden's nickname became so oft-mentioned that Topps actually replaced Dwight with Doc on baseball cards. Gooden for a time wanted another nickname, "Uptown." No kidding. There was a story in the program and everything. Thankfully, that ended in a hurry. But in hindsight it shows that Doc was more messed up than we ever suspected at the time.

Frank "Sweet Music" Viola
I suppose that when your last name matches a stringed instrument, this is about as good of a nickname as you are going to get. But Frank was a Long Islander, so that makes him A-OK with us. Some might say that Kenny "The Gambler" deserves a spot in the rotation, but I'm still not forgiving him for the infamous walk to Andruw Jones.

Bullpen: Frank Edwin "Tug" McGraw
My cat is named after Tug McGraw. It's true. My wife decided that she would get final say over names given to children, and I'd get final say over names bestowed on pets. She might have made this rule after I wanted to name our first-born "Mookie." My goldfish is named "Costco."

Manager: Lawrence Peter "Yogi" Berra
Yogi's suffering at the hands of the Yankees is well-documented, and he didn't get the respect he deserved as manager of the Mets, either. But he gets on this team, well ahead the colorless group of manager names we've trotted out there, from Wes to Joe to Davey to Art.

There you go! Let me know if I've missed anybody.

In other words...

Fellow out-of-state Mets fan Dan Ziegler has moved his site to a new place. You can find him at www.lonestarmets.com