Header - Baseball by the Letters

Year: 2011

Cub Rich Nye Shines On TV For Family

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“I truly loved playing
the game.”

Sometimes, a win is more than just the “W” in the box score or a bump in the standings. Sometimes, the victory comes in sharing with your family, Rich Nye reminded.

“You mentioned the “Game of the Week.” I remember it well. It was the first time my parents (on the West Coast) had a chance to see me pitch in the majors. It was against Cincinnati and I pitched into the 8th inning and got the victory. I didn’t get nationally interviewed but I was quite pleased with the performance.”

I was surprised to see, when I printed a piece of stationery for Nye,
that he amended my notation of “9/9/67 – Struck Out 10 Giants in Complete Game Win.” Nye added:

“and accounted for the winning run.”

Seeing that Nye was born across the bay in Oakland, and that he sparkled in Candlestick Park, it’s easy to imagine him tipping his cap to friends and family.

(Hurray for http://www.retrosheet.org/, offering details!)

Nye’s early success was shared with receiver Randy Hundley. The pitcher painted a full portrait of the catcher.

“Randy Hundley was the only catcher at the time who caught with one hand and he had a shotgun for an arm. He instilled confidence in the young pitching staff and was our team leader.

Randy had a habit of getting in a ‘rut’ (some call it a rhythm) and occasionally appeared to be thinking about his last at-bat rather than the 2-2 pitch he was suggesting to Aaron or Mays.”

Nye’s career was curtailed by a rotator cuff injury in 1970. His time on the mound was more than a job, it seems:

“My life in baseball was too short to be sure. I truly loved playing the game. As I got older, I started playing Men’s Senior Baseball and continued that until I was about 53 years old. My team won two ‘World Series’ during those years. I finally had to stop because the joints no longer wanted to comply with my wishes — they hurt too much.

Tom – thanks for asking. It’s always fun reminiscing.

Rich Nye”

Tomorrow: Hall of Fame announcer Dave Van Horne traces the origin of his trademark call!

Jack Brickhouse Sought Cub Rich Nye’s Wit

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This 1989 Pacific set
gave Brickhouse his due!

The best baseball letters I receive redefine eras. The most memorable missives are more than punchlines, answering trivia questions such as “Toughest hitter? Hank Aaron.”

Pitcher Rich Nye, flashing superb storytelling skills, shared one much-needed reminder for me.
Cubs announcer Jack Brickhouse was a real journalist.

By the 1970s, when I was watching the Cubs via WGN-TV syndicated broadcasts, Brickhouse seemed quite low-key for me. Later, compared to Harry Caray, my memory of Brickhouse turned into a cold bowl of oatmeal. The difference? Brickhouse loved the Cubs, too. However, he kept on being a reporter (instead of pure cheerleader).

Brickhouse started on radio in 1934. He started at WGN in 1940. Brickhouse did EVERYTHING — not just baseball. He is a Radio Hall of Famer. Likewise, he appreciated that Nye brought an unusual perspective to the game.

Nye wrote:

“In 1967, the Cubs had the typical mix of old and young. Along with myself there was Ken Holtzman, Joe Niekro, Bill Stoneman, Gary Ross, Alec Distaso, Frank Reberger and maybe a couple of others who were vying for a place on the team. We were led by crusty old Leo Durocher, who had little regard for a college-educated player.

We were, however, well accepted by the media and especially Jack Brickhouse took a shine to me and had me on his show several times. He wanted to talk about my days at Cal in the 1960s when the student body was in an uproar. He knew he would get an articulate interview.”

I learned about DOCTOR Nye’s second career in this fascinating 2008 Sun-Times blog post.

Tomorrow: Nye recalls batterymate Randy Hundley and the feeling of winning on national television.  

Recalling Astro Jerry DaVanon’s Battle Cry

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That was his sig,
and his smile!

“Not in the face! Not in the face!”

— Arthur

Guilty confession. I’ve loved the animated series THE TICK. If I was a costumed crime fighter, I’d wind up being another Arthur, a Tick sidekick.

Where did the super-hero find inspiration? In this case, his battle cry of catch-phrase seemed may have originated with utilityman Jerry DaVanon.

I remember seeing the Houston Astros play an exhibition game in Des Moines, Iowa. DaVanon emerged from the clubhouse to the usual throng of gymnastic autograph seekers hanging from the railings, looking down on him.

DaVanon used the Arthur-like cry when scorecards buzzed too close to his head. Giddy kids (and greedy adults) often think that memorabilia shoved as close as possible to a signer’s nose will get autographed next.

So, DaVanon shouted those four words of warning. Fans recoiled. The Astro restored his personal space and exhaled. Signing continued.

Today’s signers may quit without a word. Be aware that not every player may be giving out second chances. Baseball may be running out of Jerry DaVanons

Phillies Fan Stan Price Perfects Custom Cards

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Stan Price’s Tribute to
The Man Who Came to Play

There’s a new movement in autograph collecting. Instead of fretting about how there’s nothing new to collect, these trend-setters are making their own collectibles. Some are creating cards they design themselves. Others are devising their own photo collages.

One of these leaders is Stan Price. I’m grateful to this Phillies collecting machine, who took time out from the hobby to share some experiences.

Q: Of your 1,200 different, when and where did you get the idea? These are blank backed and card sized, I’m guessing?

 A: The cards are indeed blank backed and card sized. I began collecting near 1989 when the Scranton Wilkes Barre Red Barons came into existence. I was getting autographs on logo balls but I found out the hard way that the autographs would fade with time. So I brainstormed and came up with a 3.5″ x 5″ photo of an actual baseball. They were inexpensive and portable.

My next lesson was to ID the autographs because some are hard to identify. I began putting the signed “baseball” with a photo of the player. The next logical step was to produce a card of the players and I said “What the heck, make one for each player who has every played for the Phillies and get as many signed as I can.”

Q: I know little about computers. How hard has it been finding the skills (Photoshop?) to do this?

A: I use Microsoft Word for making the cards since the design is rather basic. Since it’s an ongoing set, I don’t want to change up the design on a  yearly basis. Once I have a photo, I can make a card in 2-3 minutes.

Q: Where are you finding images of these cup-of-coffee Phillies?

A: That’s a fun and challenging part of the hobby. Team publications, of course, pictorial baseball histories, internet surfing and the good old library.

Q: Had you collected autographs TTM before making your customs? Do you get other cards signed, too? How has the response differed since you’ve started including a custom?

A: Like I stated before, I had a ton of logo baseballs and some odds and ends. But I never really collected cards. A lot of the players especially the retired ones often comment on the idea.

Q: Can you site a specific former player who has given great feedback, or asked for extra customs to share? I know some guys in years past write and say, “Sorry. I have no photos.”

A: I can think of two ex-players who seemed the most impressed:

Ron Diorio, who asked for some extras as did Rich Barry, who never had a card produced for him. He wanted to show his family how handsome he was as a young man.

Q: Please, would you share a peek at one of your customs?

A: I’ve attached my favorite card. Danny Litwhiler who looks like he came to play that day.

I hope everyone receives as much enjoyment as I do with their collections. I would also thank the membership of www.sportscollectors.net in helping obtain some autographs as well.

Stan has welcomed questions and comments from other Phillies collectors or hobbyists who’d like to create their own custom “cards.” E-mail Stan at pm18231@yahoo.com

My Day With Hall of Famer Johnny Mize

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“This is for you.” — Johnny Mize



Imagine a baseball Hall of Famer sauntering through an airport concourse or hotel lobby. He’s friendly. Not just when someone recognizes him and asks for an autograph.
He greets strangers. Then, he opens his sport coat. From the breast pocket, he produces a Perez-Steele postcard, a Hall of Fame plaque postcard, or a vintage Topps card.

For uniformed military personnel, he adds: “Thank you for your service.”

This wasn’t a rumor. This was the life of Johnny Mize.

During my brief tenure as co-editor of Sports Collectors Digest, I represented the magazine at an Iowa card show. When the show organizer came up short on tables, he asked if I’d be willing to sit at the autograph table.

Was that okay with me? Uh…YES!

When a child in a wheelchair approached the table, having just an index card, Mize said, “Just a minute.”
He slowly, gently lowered himself (on two new surgically-repaired knees) to be at eye level with the young fan. “I want you to have this.” Out came a 1952 Topps card. The real thing from the real “Big Cat.”

He seemed a bit embarrassed when he returned to his seat and my jaw still hung wide.

“Sometimes, someone sends me an extra. I share them.”

He said he liked to seek out “special” children or men and women in uniform. “I know what that’s like,” he said of his World War II service.

Mize felt a sacred obligation more than three decades after leaving the field. The public counted. Every collector mattered.

“I did one of these shows with Lenny Dykstra,” he said. “Do you know who he is?”

I nodded slowly for the possible bombshell. It came.

“He showed up in a jogging suit wearing headphones. He wouldn’t talk with the people.

In my day, he couldn’t carry my jockey strap.”

Sorry, “Nails.” That’s how he felt. That’s what he SAID.

I was saddened that more people didn’t bother to spend a moment with Mize. The show was lightly attended. He would have talked to anyone, not just holders of autograph tickets. I believe collectors thought he’d be at more hobby shows in the future. They had gotten his signature before. He was easy to get by mail. Mize had started asking for a small donation for his local Georgia boy scout troop. (Previously, the boys had to sell Vidalia onions door-to-door to raise money for community projects, he explained.)

Still, he was a bargain. To the end, he could produce a signature that matched his 1952 Topps to the letter. I saw him do it again and again.

Everyone got a small, sincere smile and a noble nod with their autograph.

That’s why I write to so many names from baseball’s past. I know that, behind every signature, is a story.

Tomorrow: the story of Stan Price and his amazing Phillies “custom” collection.