Frank was one of those guys that looked amazing right out of the gate, as soon as he was drafted, and put his cards pretty much out of reach until the scope of the early 90s overproduction became apparent. That’s part of why I treasured this Best card so much, even back then: so many people had Thomas’ 1990 Score and Topps, fewer had the Leaf, but I never saw this card in anyone else’s collection. I can’t remember exactly where I found packs of these cards, but I know that we found about half a box and, owing to the rarity, I convinced my parents to scoop up all the remaining cards.
The packs also contained some future stars such as Bernie Williams, Javy Lopez, and Luis Gonzalez, among others that I thought would be future stars at the time. The cards seem simplistic, but I think they’re actually pretty nice. Full-bleed shots were unheard of at the time, and while the font is a little low-rent and cheesy, it’s about what you would expect for that time. Better minor league cards were coming, and soon, but for now, this offered what I thought was an underrated look at an undiscovered country: the world of minor league baseball, which still fascinates me to this day.
1990 Upper Deck
Dave Hollins was one of those prospects that came out of nowhere for me and did a lot better than by all rights he should have. I only learned about the Rule V Draft in 1990, and Hollins was my entree into this confusing world, and after watching him play some, I scooped up as his cards as soon as I could, which was not soon enough. I believe my first Hollins card came in the 1990 Fleer Update set, but based off of Ken Griffey Jr‘s rookie card, Upper Deck was considered THE rookie card to have (Leaf would steal that crown soon enough).
Hollins is also one of those players whom I would love to see in their original uniform, one of those “almost” cards like the Ryne Sandberg Phillies cards that have popped up over the years. I wouldn’t say I’d give anything to see Hollins in a Padres uniform, but I think it would be pretty cool, especially since the Pads’ uniforms at the time were so great.
Careerwise, Hollins didn’t turn out to be anything special. I mean, sure, he had some great years, but overall he was just above average in OPS+, which means he was below average for a third baseman. Guess I didn’t miss out on much not getting his Leaf card after all.
1990 Donruss The Rookies
I’m covering Marquis Grissom’s 1990 Rookies issue on my other site this morning, and it seemed fitting to look at one of the more obscure prospects from that set on this site today. Knackert was not the best prospect, but what he represents is a branching out. He had an okay if not stellar minor league reputation with the White Sox before getting picked up by the Mets as a Rule V draftee. I guess he failed to make the squad and the Mariners picked him up off waivers, deciding to give him a shot at staying on the roster that year, and what an abysmal year it was. I mean, the guy was 21, but he had a 61 ERA+. My branching-out prospecting brain, however, seized on his age rather than his ability and thought he had staying power. Yeah, he didn’t. He made it to the majors again in 1996, then he was done. I still had a lot to learn.
But what really brings me back on this card is that Mariners cap. I loved that logo, for some reason. I guess it was the yellow on blue…it had such a classic 80s feel, yet I didn’t know what that even meant at the time. All I knew was that I had to have one, being a big uniform and cap sucker. I wore that thing with pride for a few years until it was too worn out to carry on, along with my two Blue Jays hats with that classic, awesome logo that made me a Jays fan for so many years. You know the one.
I felt like I was an oddity for years, until I discovered entire sites
dedicated to the subject. And yet no sites dedicated to Mr. Knackert. But hey, he does have a facebook page, with a picture from his Red Sox year.
1990 Upper Deck
1990 was the first year I followed Spring Training as a baseball fan, and I dug into with both hands, enjoying the younger players that got playing time, hoping that I would get some clues as to future stars. Mickey was the first guy that grabbed my attention. I had never heard of him, but he showed up in ST and started hitting moonshots off of established players. This was well before I understood how Spring Training stats worked, so I thought I had found a diamond in the rough. This articlefrom that year says it all:
“WINTER HAVEN, Fla. – There is rapidly becoming one story in spring training. He is 6 feet tall with bulging muscles. He grew up in Bridgewater, played for Bridgewater-Raynham High School and the Bridgewater Legion. One of his idols was Jim Rice. He adored Carl Yastrzemski and respected the ability of Dwight Evans.
He’s got a made-for-Fenway Park swing. Short, compact and sweet. Some think he will someday rule the Wall. The question now is: Will Mickey Pina supplant Evans as the right fielder, with the veteran’s back flareups too unpredictable for the Sox to count on him?”
Of course, he didn’t make the team in 1990, went back to Pawtucket, and somehow degenerated. His career was gone after that. But that’s not what we’re concerned with here. I was more concerned with not being able to find ANY of his cards in 1990. The first to hit was his 1990 ProCards issue, the first regular minor league set I was able to afford, but this beauty is the one I always remember when I think of that guy. It’s a shame he became another in a long line of Red Sox outfield disappointments, because I thought for sure I had the next Yastrzemski. Instead it was just another Sam Horn.
1990 Upper deck
Man, this guy looked like a monster in 1990. I was vaguely aware of his existence leading up to the release of this card, but seeing it and reading about his exploits on the back sealed the deal for my love for him. The late 80s and early 90s were all about big power guys for me, and Anthony was the prototype, with that monster shot he hit in the Astrodome.
But the main memory I have of Anthony has nothing to do with his career. It’s all about sitting in a musty old library in a musty old middle school that didn’t have air conditioning in the May sun. Four of us sat around a table right before class started, each with a stack of his own cards, divvying up offers and throwing down some lopsided trades. I was not the richest kid in the world, so trading was my biggest outlet for picking up players that I wanted; I would stack up cards of superstars of the day and offer them for the prospects, sure I was the one taking the other guy to the cleaner with my superior knowledge of player scouting and development.
Well, it didn’t quite work out, but I certainly remember getting this beaut of a card. It was probably my fourth or fifth copy of the card, but I could never get enough of the Sure Things, and Anthony was about as sure as it got. Too bad it never worked out that way.
1990 Score Rookie and Traded
I covered Delino Deshields’ 1988 O-Pee-Chee card on my other site today, and as much as I’d love to write about Derek’s here, I think it’s better to offer some variety, so it is that we behold Derek’s 1990 Score Traded, his first mainstream card. Derek was one of the prospects that I first learned about in 1988, with his name mentioned in the same breath as Joey Belle when it came to being troubled. As a burgeoning Blue Jays collector, I was intrigued, especially by the Eric Davis comparisons that were being drawn; I was also really into Davis at the time.
Of course, finding the OPC card sent me over the moon, but I had to endure a few years’ wait after that for another Derek Bell card. It was an incredibly pleasant surprise to pick up the 1990 Score Traded set at a small coin shop in my hometown in 1990 (a coin shop that was the go-to-source for traded sets). 1990 Score had such a cool design, and though I was disappointed with the color scheme, I treasured all the random rookie cards in the set, including this Bell card.
This was also my first exposure to the conundrum of XRCs. I was confused at the time. Did the OPC card count as his rookie, or did this? Or would his 1991 cards count as rookies with both of these as oddities? I’m dismayed that this answer is just as, if not more, confusing than ever these days. I thought for sure it would eventually be answered. It makes me glad I got out of this rookie business.
1990 Upper Deck
Wilson Alvarez was one of those players who, for me, had a reputation that preceded him. I read about him in some magazine back in the day, most likely early 1990, talking about this Rangers kid who was tearing up the minors and had a high upside. I was immediately captivated and wanted a card of him but, unfortunately, they were a little hard to find at the time (read: non-existent, save for minor league issues that were as out of reach for me as the moon).
So I was all ready for him to become a big-time Rangers prospect, and as the team also had Brian Bohanon in the pipeline for a team that had Bobby Witt and Nolan Ryan, I had a good feeling about the future of the Rangers pitching staff. Then, of course, Alvarez got dealt to the White Sox as part of the Sammy Sosa deal (yikes, Texas, just yikes), leaving the 1989 Topps Debut card as the only one depicting him in a Rangers uniform (and this was a good few months before that set came out). As I was somewhat into the Rangers at the time, this was kind of a mood killer, but I still looked forward to this card.
Then, of course, the Upper Deck high numbers were issued. This was becoming an annual treat for me, so I went nuts when I started to see them, pulling Wilson fairly early on and putting him in a plastic case. These days, of course, it’s not worth nearly as much – Alvarez had a decent if not great career – but the picture on the front still evokes memories of that long wait and my excitement pulling him from a pack. I wish sometimes I could go back to that simplicity in collecting, but I’m pretty happy with where I am.