Well, Now That’s A Crooked Scan

The best laid plans…

I scanned this about 2-3 weeks ago, and now the card is…

Well…

Hell, it could be either in a box already sent or a box for someone that’s still here in the home office. Or in my semi-unsorted (or semi-sorted, depending on your world view) junk wax doubles + box.

Wait a sec…

Nope, not there. It must be gone, or somewhere else.

Anyway, when I had some jerseys I had one of Mr. Harkey when he was a coach with the Padres in Spring Training. He’s a big dude. Listed at 6’5, 220, he seemed bigger and probably could be a power forward in a pinch. I’m sure he can act as Joe Girardi’s bouncer as well in the Yankees room.

And he was a very frustrating pitcher for Cubs fans, but there was a story, of course. There always is.

Harkey was the #4 pick of the 1987 draft, and debuted with the Cubs in 1988 in September. He went back to the minors in 1989 to get more experience, but had knee injuries and some shoulder problems (from the knee injuries). As big as he was, he was never a blazing-fast pitcher, so he needed command and control to get things done.

The Cubs were the defending NL East champs, but were scuffling in 1990. The starting staff in 1989 was stable – Maddux, Sutcliffe, Bielecki, Sanderson and Kilgus started all but 14 games, with Sanderson and Kilgus sitting out for either Steve Wilson or Jeff Pico.

Sanderson left via free agency, and Kilgus was traded to Toronto for Jose Nunez, who had a 2.21 ERA in Syracuse in 1989 (albeit with 18 unearned runs). However, the Cubs knew Harkey would be ready. They still had Wilson and Pico. The rest of the staff was proven.

Well…in 1985 the Cubs staff collapsed. This was 1985 all over again, but this time with Don Zimmer at the helm.

Sutcliffe never made it to the gate in 1990. He did make four starts but by then it was all over but the shouting. So Wilson entered the rotation with Bielecki, Nunez, Maddux and Harkey.

After five starts, Nunez had a 6.17 ERA. After five starts, Wilson had a 6.04 ERA. In his sixth start, Bielecki gave up six runs and 11 hits in 4 2/3 and ended it with a 4.83 ERA. After Harkey’s sixth start ( 7 ER in 2 2/3) his ERA was 6.23.

Maddux was steady, 4-1, 1.96 after five starts.

The staff was already in shambles and it was only mid-May.

The first answer was Les Lancaster. Then they pulled Shawn Boskie out of AAA. Then they turned to Jeff Pico. Kevin Blankenship made two starts. And, in an act of total desperation, on June 5, 1990, with the Cubs in last place facing the first place Pirates, Paul Assenmacher made a start. His only start of his career. 884 appearances, 883 relief appearances.

It didn’t go well. He gave up four runs in the first, then was lifted for Marvell Wynne in the second. Wilson came in and pitched six strong innings in relief. But needless to say, Assenmacher slunk back to the pen where he LOOGIED to his hearts content the rest of his career.

Don Zimmer is a great guy, and a fun manager (who else squeezes with the bases loaded?) but when it’s time to be calm, Zim can panic with the best of ’em.

And, in 1990, right after the All-Star break with only one decent dependable veteran starter, Zim decided a four-man rotation would be the best.

It started as Harkey / Boskie / Maddux / Wilson. Bielecki replaced Wilson for a few, then 1990 first round draft pick Lance Dickson bolted from the minors to make three starts in the four man rotation. He replaced Boskie and then Pico got a start.

Finally, when Sutcliffe came back, they went back to a five man rotation. That wasn’t the end of the panic for Zim – as Mitch Williams started two games in September. Yes, Mitch Williams, starting pitcher.

It did help the Cubs, a bit. When this started they were 36-49, 15 games back in fifth. When it ended, they were 61-66, 12 1/2 games back in fourth.

But was it worth the carnage it wrought?

Lance Dickson was done. That was it for his big league career. Not a bright move to throw a kid right from college (where his arm had a lot of mileage on it already that year) into a four man rotation in the bigs.

Boskie was shut down after August 4. At the time, he was a 23-year old that was 5-6 with a 3.69 ERA. A good start. In 1991, he went 4-9, 5.23. In 1992, 5-11, 5.01. Actually, the telling stat is that for the remainder of his career after 1990, his ERA was 5.32.

After being yanked up and down in the rotation, Wilson became a full-time relief pitcher but was never trusted by the Cubs and he ended his career pitching for the Dodgers in as anonymous a role as you can have as a Dodger pitcher.

It may not have been fair that the Cubs expected another 1989 out of Bielecki, but he was the one flung from the rotation when they went to a four man, and pitched no better nor worse out of the pen. Again, panic set in.

Maddux actually thrived in the four-man. He was 8-3, 2.12 during that time. Before the All-Star break, he was 4-8, 4.57. But Maddux is a freak, and we know that now.

As for the star of this here essay (with the crooked scan) Harkey pitched well in the four man (8-4, 3.01 that included a game where he gave up eight runs in 1/3 of an inning) but after dominating the Phillies through six in his next start he developed arm trouble after walking two, giving up a sac, then intentionally walking another. He was done for the year.

And basically done for a career at age 23.

Oh, the record shows that he pitched until 1997.  After being shut down in 1990, he came out of Spring Training in 1991 with a dead arm, made four starts, and sat out until July 1992 after rehabbing a bit. He then pitched well but was shut down again in September 1992.

In 1993, his final year with the Cubs, he was 10-10, 5.26, giving up 187 hits in 157 1/3 innings. The Rockies signed him but that didn’t go so well. The A’s had him for half a season and waived him to the Angels. The Dodgers then used him in Albuquerque in 1996 and 1997, and they allowed him some token big league time in 1997 as well during September.

Of course, it’s not exactly fair to hang Zimmer by the yard-arm for ruining Dickson, Boskie and Harkey’s arms. A four-man rotation can and will work if managed properly. That means, monitoring pitch counts under duress, easing young pitchers into it (Earl Weaver always had youngsters in long relief just to get acclimated to the league and the rigors of big league pitching) and smart bullpen utilization. The big secret is that many of the top teams of the past kinda ‘winged it’ – and they didn’t have to worry about eight or nine guys able to blast home runs or doubles in every at bat, either.

But Zim didn’t use much common sense. Dickson was right out of college and barely had any time in the minors. Boskie was in AA the year before, and Harkey was hurt the year before.

So when the crazy kids of 1991 opened their Upper Deck packs whilst listening to Soundgarden , Harkey was already on the DL.

And of course, that’s a big excuse to post these:

 

 

Dan Pasqua – 1991 Score

January 11, 2011

Dan Pasqua = Nemo Leibold

Dan does look the part there. In the face, he looks a bit like Chick Gandil. Actually, looks a bit like Michael Rooker playing Chick Gandil.

The 1990 White Sox finished in second, nine games behind the A’s. If they were in the East, they would have won the division. But life’s like that sometimes. Believe me!

The main reason for their runner-up finish was their offense. Only three regulars: Fisk, Calderon and Pasqua / Kittle (platooning at DH) had an OPS+ of over 100. Frank Thomas had an OPS+ of 177 but didn’t get called up until August. Before then, the White Sox had four months of Carlos Martinez flailing with an OPS+ of 63 at first base.

The staff was pretty nifty – three good starters (Hibbard, McDowell, King) and a lights out pen. This was the 57-save season for Thigpen, but Pall, Patterson and Edwards were good set-up men and Barry Jones was outstanding. They only blew 18 saves. Jones had 7 (Thigpen 8 ) but Jones also went 11-4 with 30 holds.

Pasqua actually would be a good offensive comp for Happy Felsch, except Felsch batted righty. And Felsch was a center fielder, and a good one in 1917 (+6 FR) not the goofball RF as shown in Eight Men Out. Pasqua, in retrospect, was an underrated offensive player up until 1992. Felsch was overshadowed by others on the White Sox, but had he not been consorting with Gandil and the others he would have had an outside chance at the HOF.

But Pasqua looked as good in those unis as Charlie Sheen did in the movie!

Those 1917 White Sox were one of the best teams of the decade. Yes, the 1919 team got the glory, probably because of their nefarious deeds, but the 1917 squad was better.

Thirteen position players were the same. The 1919 squad had a better OPS+ and scored 12 more runs in 16 fewer games.

But the pitching was better in 1917. The 1917 Sox used eight pitchers. Mellie Wolfgang, who had a great 1916, came up with a lame arm and was used just for 17 2/3 of relief. (Yes, Mellie Wolfgang – they also had two youngsters named Zeb Terry and Ziggy Hasbrook.) Dave Danforth was used as a ‘closer’ as much as anyone. Manager Pants Rowland (yep, Pants) used him in relief 41 times with nine starts, and he was 11-6 with 9 saves. Four pitchers (Cicotte, Faber, Russell, Scott) had ERAs under 2.00. Lefty Williams had the worst ERA of the staff – at 2.97.

The Sox rolled through the AL by nine games. In the World Series against the Giants, it was tied at two games each when Pants Rowland showed his mettle. Reb Russell started Game Five and lasted three batters, leaving with one run on the board and runners on second and third. Cicotte allowed just one of the runs in, and he, Williams and Faber controlled the game the rest of the way on the way to an 8-5 win, a 3-2 series lead and a series win.

The 1919 staff had Cicotte, Williams and Faber, but Faber wasn’t as effective and didn’t play in the 1919 series. Danforth was also a mess all season. Old pro Grover Lowdermilk joined the staff along with “Busher” Dickie Kerr. There were 11 others that pitched for the Sox that season – including Reb Russell who lasted two batters in his only appearance. His arm hurting, Russell went down to the minors, became an outfielder, and made the majors again for the Pirates a few years later.

So even though the 1919 Sox would never be honored, the 1990 Sox did right by honoring the 1917 squad, especially with their pitching staff.

And at least their platoon DH could model the uniform like no one else.

Something Tells Me They’re Not Discussing Road Beef Here…

Back in the good ol’ days, pre-Retrosheet, you’d get a card like this and just wonder what game it came from. Without diving into your Sporting News library or microfiche at the library, you couldn’t really pin it down.

But now, it’s easy…

July 20, 1990. Manwaring was recently called up from the minors. He had played a lot in 1989 but didn’t hit at all and spent most of 1990 in Phoenix as the Giants went with Terry Kennedy and Gary Carter as their catchers. Steve Decker replaced Manwaring as top catching prospect #1, so Manwaring was more apt to yo-yo back and forth to sit on the bench.

This was one of those 3:05 games the Cubs had back before they had lights (or used the lights as much as they do now). Carter must have been on the shelf, so with a lefty in the box for the Cubs (Steve Wilson) Kennedy sat out and Manwaring started.

The play in question came in the bottom of the sixth. John Burkett is on the hill for the Giants. Grace leads off the sixth by lacing a double to right. On a full count, Andre Dawson lofts a ball that falls in front of Kevin Mitchell in left. Mitchell’s not the best left fielder in the world but had played third base and shortstop back when he was young and thin, and still had an arm.

Grace isn’t the speediest guy in the world, and is tempted by Mitchell’s reputation. As you can see, Mitchell fired a strike to Manwaring at the plate, and the Giants catcher held his ground as Grace tried to be…creative…in knocking the ball loose.

Mitchell assisted on another play where a Cubs’ base runner was thrown out at home earlier, but it was a wackier play. In the bottom of the third, after a single and an error on Will Clark put runners on first and second, Wilson attempted a bunt. Burkett fielded it, but threw wildly to third. Joe Girardi was on second and tried to score after the overthrow, but Mitchell retrieved the ball, hit the cutoff man Matt Williams and Williams nailed Giardi at the plate.

Even with two runners out at the plate, the Cubs won the game. And it was in dramatic fashion.

Mike Bielecki pitched 2 1/3 innings of excellent relief to keep the Cubs in the game, and they trailed just 4-3 entering the ninth. Roger Craig entrusted the ball to all-star Jeff Brantley with reliever Atlee Hammaker in line for the win.

Dawson leads off with a grounder, but pinch hitter Gary Varsho reaches on a pop-fly double to left. Varsho, who had some speed (which surprised the heck out of me because I never thought of him as a speedy guy), was ignored by Brantley and stole third. This put the tying run 90 feet away with one out.

Brantley digs deep and gets Luis Salazar to bounce back to him at the mound, and Varsho has to hold. With two down Shawon Dunston adds to the Shawn-O-Meter with a line drive single to left.

Dunston, who could steal a bag, steals second. Then Brantley balks him to third. I’d love to know what happened there. On a 2-2 pitch Girardi laces a single to center, scoring Dunston and making Harry Caray a happy Bud Man.

Brantley allowed two steals and committed a balk, and those all cost him the game. Sometimes the little things do win. But sometimes, big men with large sticks also win. It’s baseball, who really knows day-to-day anyway?

 

Score!

I would like to temporarily distract you from looking at Mr. McKnight fly out to left, and direct you to Bo’s place!

Yes, it’s the often imitated, never duplicated “Baseball Cards Come To Life”.

Everyone in this here intarweb thing has their own spin on this hobby of ours, and well, Bo’s spin comes right from the cardboard’s mouth many times. That is, when he’s not obsession about someone’s false choppers.

Bo and I set out on a mega trade – since we’re both set building fools with some needs and duplicates that overlap. I received my box of booty today – and I’m frustrated because I’ve had his box sitting in my home office but real life has intervened and I still haven’t gotten it to the post office. And I didn’t today (I have a hot job prospect and also had to do the picking up and dropping off at school today) so Bo and everyone else will need to wait until tomorrow. But I have nine packages to send so Mr. Postmaster General should be pleased.

But now, the fun part begins – cross checking what I got from Bo then updating my want list on this here site and sending it out to you bums nice peeps. But I’m sorry to say that if you had about a dozen 1989 Donruss Andy Nezelek cards, or a cool six of 1988 Topps Wally Ritchie’s, I don’t need ’em anymore…thanks!

And now, back to Mr. McKnight.

Let’s see…

Did not hit for average.

Did not hit for power.

Did not have speed.

Did not play good defense.

Why was he in the majors? Why did the Mets and Baltimore play hot potato with him?

Now he did hit .307 at Tidewater in 1992. And I’ll have to admit, I’d need about 107 hits spotted to me before I could hit .307 in 406 ABs, but I still don’t get why all of a sudden he was the second coming of Hot Rod Kanehl in 1993.

Wait…

Oh, yeah…the 1993 Mets played like Kanehl’s Mets. Even with two expansion teams, they wound up 59-103, five games worse than Florida and eight games behind the Rockies.

 

 

 

 

Ah-HAH!

I know the reason Kurt Miller bombed as a prospect.

He routinely waved all of his teammates in, a-la Eddie Feingold (“The King”), but it doesn’t work in baseball.

That, and he insisted on pitching in the twilight, and batters learned not to swing, so the umps kept calling balls.

What, you have a better reason?

Protip: When you deal the #5 pick in the draft one year after you draft him in a two for one to get Steve Buechele, then you’re not good at drafting.

Protip #2: When your first round draft pick can’t strike out a batter-an-inning in short season Class A, and then can’t strike out a batter-an-inning in Class A the next year, you’re not good at drafting.

Protip #3: If you are drafting 5th in the first round, and Mike Mussina is available, and you take Kurt Miller, you’re not good at drafting.

Yes, Virginia, There Is A Santiago Clause

Sorry for the pun…I will take my pummeling later. But this is Christmas time, and for those of you who celebrate it, have a Happy Merry!

For those who do not celebrate the Holiday, enjoy your Chinese food tomorrow!

 

Jack Howell – 1991 Topps

December 22, 2010

And You Are? Who Is???

(I’m feelin’ the creative juices today…)

You remember the stars and superstars throughout baseball. On the team you root for, you recall the everyday players. You seem to remember most of the rotation and bullpen closers. You can’t help but curse the disasters.

This guy, up here, even though he was a regular, was the definition of ‘nondescript’.

Just an average, everyday, generic baseball player (if such a person exists).

He came up with the Angels during their 1986 playoff run, spelling vet Doug DeCinces. The next year, he split time between LF and 3B as the Angels tumbled to sixth. He took over third in 1988 and 1989, and in 1990 missed some time due to injury. I don’t think anyone really noticed.

The Angels were kind of ‘out of sight – out of mind’ for most of the baseball world. They were boringly bleah – seemingly always third or fourth with a bunch of crusty vets and retreads for the most part. They did turn out some good younger players – Devon White, Luis Polonia and Wally Joyner come to mind, but aside from a brief spurt of “Wally World” they were happiest as a franchise with oldsters like Brian Downing, Dave Winfield and Johnny Ray. And they drew well, but with that many people and corporate interests  in Southern California you’d need to be a total disaster of a franchise not to draw.

There are always guys around that only true fans and baseball card collectors can remember. Can you name a Jack Howell highlight?  You remember Chris Sabo because of the goggles. You remember Chris Brown because he got hurt every five seconds. You remember Jim Presley because of his last name. But Jack Howell…

Nada. He played third base. He hit a few home runs, but not too many. He wasn’t bad enough to bench, but never good enough to be a regular on a winning team. He only got on TV on late games that ESPN telecast, and then only about once a month because the Angels just weren’t a national draw.

And when Topps was awarding the players with the “0” and the “5”, he never was good enough to get one.

That’s telling enough.

All-Star Sandy Alomar Jr.?

Oh, what a debut Mr. Alomar had. He had more potential than his brother Roberto because he was a catcher as opposed to a second baseman. The Indians fleeced the Padres by giving up the over-rated Joe Carter for Sandy, Carlos Baerga and Chris James (one of these things is not like the other…) and Sandy had an OPS+ of 107, was a Gold Glover, and All-Star and won Rookie Of The Year. A great debut!

Or was it?

He actually had a negative fielding runs. Kevin Appier had 1.9 WAR over Alomar. He was lucky Kevin Maas, Ben McDonald and Travis Fryman didn’t have a full year in the bigs. Don’t get me wrong, it was a great debut, just nothing to totally flip out over.

But when this card came out, I am sure that speculation ran heavy in the baseball card world. And, you could get a Donruss, Fleer, Fleer Ultra, Topps, Topps Stadium Club, Upper Deck, Score and some of the other smaller sets and hoard them for when Sandy Alomar Jr. goes to Cooperstown.

Well, as you know, thanks to injuries and wear and tear, the only way he’ll be visiting Cooperstown is to see his brother get inducted (WHICH HE WILL!).

He only played 100 games in a season four times in his career. His career OPS+ wound up at 86. The multiple names in his similarity scores by age are Toby Hall, Darrin Fletcher and Don Slaught, who was the most similar player for a career six times (ages 33-38).

Sandy also shows that the hype of baseball doesn’t just emanate from New York, Boston, Chicago or LA. Alomar played in Cleveland, of all places, and was a six-time All Star.

Including 1991, where he was a starter for the AL. After missing a month, he was hitting a robust .241 with a .592 OPS at the break – and that was after a 4-4 game against Milwaukee the Sunday before the break.

Most of the spring he struggled to hit .200 and had a sub .500 OPS. And he was voted an All Star!

He wound up getting hurt again, and had an OBP and SLG under .300. This was probably one of the worst seasons ever for a player voted to start the All Star Game.

He was voted on again in 1992, and had just got his OPS to .600 right before the break. He got hurt again, and from then on was a big question mark each and every season.

It’s no secret that injuries curtailed his career, but I doubt he would have been more than a serviceable catcher even without the injuries.

Don’t believe the hype!

 

Wasn’t He Supposed To Be Good?

It’s not every day that 34th round draft picks are hyped as prospects.

But when you hit 10 home runs in the Gulf Coast League, you become a prospect really quickly.

Say what? 10 home runs? Well, consider that the GCL is short-season, and that Anthony out-homered two entire teams. The GCL Yanks had 8 and the 1987 GCL Dodgers had ONE home run. Braulio Castillo hit that dinger for the Dodgers, while Henry Rodriguez found it easier to blast homers in Wrigley than in the heat and humidity of South Florida.

In 1988, he hit 29 in the Sally League along with 36 doubles. Again, he out-homered an entire team (the Cubs’ affiliate in Charleston).

1989 was a monster year for Anthony. He slugged .558 in AA, and his combined 31 home runs in AA and AAA were tops in the minors. He hit four home runs in Houston in September. He was the #8 prospect in the land according to Baseball America for 1990.

“It’s hard to find guys who can hit homers in the Astrodome, but this guy is the real thing.”-an NL scout

Famous last words.

Dazzled by the bombs – and thinking they had a power source to go with Glenn Davis and Franklin Stubbs (yes, you read me right), Anthony played most of 1990 in Houston. By all accounts, this raw 22-year old did have power, but he had holes the size of Enron’s accounting practices in his swing and NL pitchers aren’t just learning their craft like they were in the minors.

He hit just .192. He had 10 home runs but 78 whiffs in half-time play. But, he’s 22. So speculators in rotiss and baseball cards were speculating all over the place.

Anthony started 1991 in Tuscon, and he got the job done. He cut his strikeouts down (to just 58 in 318 ABs) and hit .336. He launched just nine home runs in 78 games, though, but Tuscon isn’t a home run paradise.

That led to a two month recall in 1991 and he was abysmal. OPS+ of 33 and 41 whiffs in 118 at bats.

But he’s 23, and he’s got that power potential.

So he played regularly in 1992 and 1993 and wasn’t awful. His 19 homers in 1992 led a surprising Astros team that finished .500 after winning just 65 games the year before. It wasn’t the big numbers expected, but he hit more home runs than Jeff Bagwell, Steve Finley, Ken Caminiti, Luis Gonzalez, Craig Biggio and Pete Incaviglia, who were all on that team.

The Astros thought that this was the team of the future, and the OF of Gonzalez, Finley and Anthony would be set for years. Well, they didn’t develop like the Astros though they should. Anthony’s power dipped, his strikeouts inched up and he seemingly regressed a bit. He had a good arm, but he didn’t have the range to play OF in the Astrodome effectively.

But he was just…25. And at 25, it’s time to get going or get gone.

Seattle was a team on the rise, but they had some holes on offense. In 1993, Mike Felder was a total waste in LF and Pet O’Brien wasn’t that great at DH. The Kingdome was not the Astrodome; power hitters could thrive there.

A deal was struck, Anthony to Seattle for Felder and this 20-year old lefty who was force-fed to the bigs and really struggled.

Mike Hampton. Yes, Mike “I Still Get Paid If I’m On The DL” Hampton.

Anthony got a million-dollar contract, the job in left field, and a bunch of crazy AL-only fantasy players bidding huge coin for him.

Disaster. It was better than what Mike Felder did, but for a million 1994 dollars you should have an OBP over .300.

He was released DURING the strike off-season, in December 1994. Ouch, that’s cold. He found his way to Cincy. Had 1 1/2 injury prone seasons there, and 1/2 season at Colorado. Signed as a free agent by Minnesota for 1997. Released in late March, and signed by Texas the same day. He was released by Texas in April, and signed by the Dodgers three days later. After spending some time in Albuquerque, Anthony was a bench player for the 1997 Dodgers.

And aside from some minor league cameos, he was done.

But he’s…29.

Maybe the biggest mistake Anthony made was blasting so many home runs in the Sally League. Then he wouldn’t have been fast tracked to the bigs. But the thing was, he always tore it up in AAA, even late in his career.

They say that A to AA is the toughest leap, but any leap to the majors is the toughest. Just keep that in mind the next time you are tempted to spend beaucoup bucks on a rookie’s card or in fantasy. You may want to curb ye olde enthusiasm a skosh.

 

 

“I Must Look Like A Dork”

First off, much thanks to the fine folks that bring you Scott Crawford On Cards, Cardboard Collections and to Shane, a reader who is going to kick-start his blog soon. Trades made, trades accepted, more cards off my lists, all is well. I have a few more trades in the hopper then I’ll re-do my list again and re-start this whole trade cycle. I’ve dipped into the O-Pee-Chee 2009 ball game (but now can’t find any more 2009 blasters at Target, sigh…) and 2010 Bowman Draft Prospects (and those shiny ones will find a home soon) as well as other stuff.

Now onto the main event…

Catchers are supposed to be rough tough guys. When I said one looked like Popeye, that was a compliment, really.

This shot of Gedman is, well, um…not flattering at all.

But the worst is he looks like a geek that’s the third stringer for Cal Tech.

Gedman is one reason that catchers are not worked to death anymore when they’re young. He caught in 139 and 134 games in back to back years, then his body broke down. Catching is tough business, and you’re going to wear your body out.

Still, that’s no excuse for this pose, or the fact that Upper Deck used it.

As for the caption, it’s from “Political Song For Michael Jackson To Sing” by the late, great Minutemen.

So dig this big crux.