1996 SPx JASON ISRINGHAUSEN
The 1990s were Tomorrowland.
Ownership of personal computers skyrocketed throughout the decade, rising from 15% of all US households in 1990 to 35% by 1997. We all took our first tentative steps onto the World Wide Web, enabled by one of the gazillion AOL diskettes that came wrapped with our Sunday newspapers. (For our younger readers who might not understand the “Sunday newspapers” reference: the internet used to be on paper. I know– weird, right?)
As the decade progressed, a whole future-is-now fin-de-siècle vibe took hold. Sure, the incremental blossoming of technology made some people nervous (see, The Matrix), but mostly we just blew dot-com bubbles with little plastic wands, until they popped in a gentle mist of 0s and 1s.
Upper Deck’s vision of the future relied heavily on holograms. Their initial releases containing this printing tech came saddled with somewhat elaborate viewing instructions (“Hold card at 52 degree angle to light source, which should be between 1,580 and 1,600 lumens; tilt head like a curious Irish Setter puppy; squint left eye and bulge right eye simultaneously”), but more often than not, what you saw was a tiny, reflective plate of silver and the barest hint of, say, Albert Belle‘s scowling mug.
By 1996, holographic reproduction had advanced to the point where Upper Deck felt comfortable issuing an entire set based on the technology: SPx. These die-cut cards featured a regular action photo on the front, but the majority of real estate was reserved for two blended holographic images, one an action photo and the other a head-and-shoulders shot.
The set includes two-thirds of Generation K, that wave-of-the-future staff that was ordained to lead the Mets to a bounty of pennants, but destined instead to crash and burn one by one.
In the right viewing conditions, this Jason Isringhausen card does have an impressive level of depth, motion, and color. And when I move the card horizontally, Isringhausen shakes his head from side to side, as a Cheshire-cat grin morphs into a pursed-lip stare. The bastard just knew what the future held…
I really liked these cards, even with the landscape orientation. Could have done without the die cut, though.
There were two autographs inserted in this set (Griffey and Piazza), but unfortunately those card fronts weren’t meant to be inked, so they haven’t aged very well…
The best autograph I ever pulled was a Hank Aaron one on the 1954 Topps reprint set. Whatever knockoff sharpie he used on that glossy surface has all but disappeared.
The best auto I ever pulled was a Hank Aaron as well– as it happens, it was during my inaugural Mets360 box break a couple of years back: https://mets360.com/?p=17336
Now, the most-valuable auto that I ever pulled was a 2005 Leaf Fans of the Game Tony Danza, which was apparently limited to 50 copies. I put it up on eBay and my jaw dropped when it ended at $250. Who’s the boss, indeed…
Nothing better than getting something valuable that you have no hesitation selling!
Any idea what an Aaron signature is worth?
Bottom end for a pack-issued auto is around $150. From there, it depends on rarity, quality of set, on-card vs sticker auto. My Museum Collection was on card and numbered out of 25, and I sold it for $225.
“It’s…smiling at us.” – A Christmas Story