If Bud Harrelson played in the 21st Century, it’s doubtful if he would make the majors. If he did make the majors, it wouldn’t have been as a starter. And even if he somehow became a starter, he wouldn’t have made two All-Star teams. Harrelson wouldn’t have been the “star” that he was in his own time because, quite simply, he couldn’t hit.
He had a lifetime 76 OPS+ and his career-best in the category came in 1979, when in 87 PA with the Phillies he put up a 107 mark. His best season as a Met came in 1976, when he posted a 92 OPS+. Yet somehow not only did he make the All-Star team twice, he received MVP votes in three different seasons.
On the back of this 1969 card is a cartoon showing a guy fielding a grounder while wearing a movie director get up with the tagline, “In 1964, Bud led the California League in Fielding.” The first line of text begins with, “This hustling, flashy fielding shortstop…” Even Topps know that he couldn’t hit.
The end of the text does contain a note about his hitting, noting that in 1967 he batted .281 as a lefty. Unfortunately, that came with a .195 AVG as a righty hitter. That 1979 season with the 107 OPS+ mark came with 72 of his 87 PA batting lefthanded. Yet his career L/R splits are nearly identical, with a .618 OPS against RHP and a .608 mark against LHP.
This 1969 card is the only one showing Harrelson batting righty. His 1967, 1968 and 1971 cards show him with a glove, with the ’71 being a game-action shot. In 1972, both his regular and In Action cards show him swinging lefty. As do his 1973, 1975, 1977 and 1979 cards. The others are your basic headshots, with the exception of his 1970 card – which I would have sworn that Doug Parker had already done as a COTW entry – that shows him signing autographs. For what it’s worth, that 1976 card with the noir shadows bears a little too much resemblance to modern day Jeff McNeil for my comfort.
It would have been nice if his 1974 card was from the NLCS, showing Harrelson taking no gruff from Pete Rose. That will always be my primary memory of Harrelson’s playing career. It could have been a great one-off card for Harrelson, much like this 1969 one.
I suspect I never wrote about the 1970 card because it was kind of spectral to me. Despite a childhood spent shoulder deep in cards and a particular affinity for 1970 Topps, I hadn’t ever seen this card until I started collecting graded Mets and putting the set together as an adult. I had a similar inexcusable experience with the 1966 Lou Klimchock.
What I’d say about the 1970 Harrelson if I were saying anything would be that I love the fact that you know there was some kid in Long Beach or Larchmont or Linden who spent the decade claiming ownership of the background face peeking out from behind the arms and scorecards…
Bud was a great Met – a great ambassador for the Mets too. Of course, Seaver’s roommate. He became a better offensive player as he got older. Was a terrific bunter and terrific baserunner along with his stellar defensive capabilities.
Seems growing up, SS was a position that emphasized a strong glove over hitting and many teams had week hitters at that spot, who often batted 7-8 in the order. Buddy is so connected with the ‘69 championship team, although remember we also had Al Weis. In ‘73, it is that image of him tangling with Rose who likely outweighed him by 50 pounds. He will always be a Mets hero!
Guys like Buddy — who my mother had a crush on — are one of the reasons why today’s pitchers can’t throw complete games anymore. Now everybody’s dangerous. It’s max effort all game long.
Except for James McCann, who bats like he’s straddling a narrow stream.