My father in-law gave his Topps baseball card collection to my son. Like most boys did at the time, the cards were taped on to loose leaf paper. Here are the “Boys of Summer” 1954 Brooklyn Dodgers: Roe, Snider, Gilliam and Robinson.

American League All Stars from the 1983 ASG. Purchased from the Halper Collection in 2000.

This was my first All Star Game at old Comiskey Park. Fred Lynn hit the first, and only, Grand Slam in ASG history off of Atlee Hammaker in the 3rd inning in the 13-3 rout.

Autograph from around 1982.

With Spring Training starting, thoughts turn to the National Pastime. I recently read Change Up. Generally it is excellent. The format of interviews with key people was quite engaging and through the first 6 changes. It was truly engaging. The last 2, Cal Ripken’s Streak and Ichiro Comes to America, were disappointing. On the Streak, there was too much build up about Cal Sr and Cal Jr’s rise to the big leagues. The Ripken’s are baseball royalty because of the same core values shared by father and son. Each took those to the park every day and gave to the game they loved. The interviews did not fully capture the essence and meaning of the streak well. On Ichiro, and I am an Mariners and Ichiro fan, it overlooks a lot about that amazing season and that Ichiro was the right player at the right time. The Mariners had lost superstars Randy Johnson, Ken Griffey Jr. and Alex Rodriguez in the previous season respectively. The team was solid but needed a catalyst. 116 wins tied a major league record and they blew away the AL that season. They had 7 All-Stars. There was little mention of the contention around the Rookie of the Year or even the MVP vote in spite of his batting title that season. Personally, I will remember the amazing defense, the 10 seasons of 200+ hits and hordes of Japanese fans filling Safeco in right field’s “Area 51” near my season’s tickets.

Change Up is solid ground rule double, just shy of a home run.

The last few posts have featured autographed baseballs. The collection is substantial. Here is how it began.

I was 9 years old. My dad and I were watching the Game of the Week. I was also sorting my baseball cards. I do not recall all the game’s details, but the Dodgers were playing Vin Scully and Joe Garagiola were calling the game. I always loved how Garagiola, the old catcher, would say “hard slider.”

“Wouldn’t it be cool to have a baseball card autographed?” I asked my dad holding up a Steve Garvey, who happened to be batting.

“A card? That would be cool. But why would you want Steve Garvey?” he asked. Dad was never a Garvey fan. At the time both hometown teams, the Cubs and White Sox, were terrible. Dad, from Boston, was Red Sox Nation, before the term ever existed. “Why not a baseball?” he asked.

Now, dad was, is and forever shall be a huge baseball fan. He also loved the history of the game. At that moment, there was inspiration and a way to teach his son about the history of our great game. Autographed baseball’s from Hall of Fame players, the best of the best. I would research the players and we would get their autographs. This was just at the beginning of the memorabilia boom in the early 1980’s. We would put a package together with a letter, a baseball and return postage. My dad would hunt down the players addresses. I would research the players. We put together a trial run of 10 baseballs and sure enough all 10 came back. Ted Williams and Mickey Mantle were in the first group. Over the next 2-3 years, all 70 living Hall of Famers at the time had returned a baseball. James “Cool Papa” Bell, Stan Musial, Hank Arron, Monte Irvin, Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, you name’em.

Since then we have added to the collection as new players are inducted and other balls from games and times that are important to dad and me. As I look back, I have always been touched by this return letter from Joe Sewell, who played with Cleveland Indians and the New York Yankees and a lifetime .312 hitter. He is most famous for being the hardest to strike out which only happened 114 times in 7,132 at bats over 14 years. For perspective, 2012 AL Triple Crown winner Miguel Cabrera strike out 98 times last season alone. For me, it is a great reminder of how this game unites our present with our past and deep down everyone wants to be remembered.

Autograph from 1981.

Autograph from 1981.

A friend of mine will soon be traveling to Istanbul. The mention of travel immediately took me back to my visit there now over a decade ago. Amazing city. The sights, the smells, the history. I developed an appreciation for oriental carpets during an earlier trip to Morocco. I ended up with 6. That’s another story. In Istanbul, I was traveling with a buddy and he was interested in a small carpet. We looked around over town. Nothing worked for him and the salesmen were on the pushy side. Later that day we found Harem Carpets in Arasta Bazaar. We chatted with Mustafa, one of the owners, for a bit and made an appointment to return the following morning.

Great experience and beautiful pieces. They take a tremendous amount of pride knowing the history and origin of each piece. If you are in Istanbul check out Harem Carpets.

Edgar’s final at bat

Edgar Martinez was overlooked by the Baseball Writers of America again yesterday. Total shame.
The DH rule has been in place for 40 years this season. Ironically, the rule is older than the Mariners.
The statistics are real and even more impressive given the steroid fueled era in which he played.
He lead teams by example: 7 All Star Games, 2 batting titles and 4 playoff appearances. It is time for a truly great DH to be honored at Cooperstown.

As is often said in baseball, “Wait ’til next year.”

I say this every year. But with the proliferation of Christmas albums, it needs to be said. Before elaborating, I love the Beach Boys. They were a big part of my childhood summers and one of 3 cassette tapes that were allowed in my Mom’s yellow VW Bus.

That said, their take on traditional Christmas standards is terrible. Simply awful. As children, my siblings and I were forced to listen to this terrible, terrible album. As we got older and crafty, copies would go missing. Only to be found by Mom. Later, copies were thrown into the Mississippi River. In a Christmas miracle, new tapes were re-purchased. A few years ago, a CD copy showed up in my stocking. It ended up being left at the in-laws. The disdain for the Beach Boys Christmas has taken a life of its own. But it needs to be said that the singing, harmony and overall musical presentation is truly hazardous to your ears. Want to irritate someone, loop this version of “We Three Kings.” Even “Little Saint Nick” sounds better when covered by the Muppets. Beach Boys are summer. Christmas is Christmas. So have your self a merry little Christmas, forget this album.