1970 TOPPS BUD HARRELSON
I humbly submit this Bud Harrelson offering for consideration as the greatest in-stadium card Topps produced before they started doing live-action cards the following year. Typically cards of this era and earlier showed head shots or mock baseball poses. But here we have Harrelson signing autographs, in a familiar setting, assuming you were ever a kid who got to the park early and yelled at anyone in a uniform within earshot to sign your scorecard.
And the autograph scene on a baseball card is great enough but Harrelson is wearing a uniform impossibly white that just absolutely pops against a brilliant blue sky, which is further enhanced by what looks like 21st Century field maintenance. Games that I went to at Shea in the 1970s, the field never looked this perfect and there was inevitably garbage being blown everywhere.
Those who’ve only watched games in the last decade have no idea how much more visually pleasing the field is compared to what it used to be like.
That said, Shea still holds a special place in the hearts of those who went to a game there. If you never experienced 30,000 or more – capacity was somewhere around 56,000, depending on the source – people cheering and making so much noise that it felt like the stadium was rocking, swaying and cheering with you, well, you missed out.
And perhaps Harrelson holds a similar place in Mets’ fans hearts. Not me, though. If there was a choice between seeing one last game in Shea or seeing Harrelson play one more time, my choice would be Shea, 100 times out of 100. Sure, we’ll always have the string bean Harrelson taking no gruff from Pete Rose, which is a tremendous memory. But Harrelson was never my favorite.
He was familiar and comfortable and for the most part, oh so forgettable.
And maybe that’s what makes this card so terrific. It’s not a superstar like Tom Seaver signing autographs. In the parlance of baseball card collectors, it’s a common. But just like in baseball, how any particular player can be the hero on a given day, Topps made it so that a player who had a 75 OPS+ in his 13-year Mets career could be a hero, just for one year.
As if they recognized the glory of Harrelson’s 1970 card, Topps reeled it back in the following year. His card had five people in it, with Harrelson being relegated to the far-left side of the card, his face barely visible. It was an action shot from a game, so it was cool in that regard. But it couldn’t hold a candle to this 1970 offering.
Love it!!
Brian,
I have that Harrelson card and watched him play many years for the Mets. Your take on Harrelson sounds very much like someone who doesn’t understand the game as it was at the time, applying current criteria to what was 50 years ago.
Harrelson was prototypical SS of the day, skinny, weak hitter, no power, defensive player first and foremost. Any offense was gravy. No one gave a hoot about OPS+. It wasn’t even created yet. You write as if Topps got it wrong, that they should have pegged him as a nobody unworthy of his 1970 photo as depicted. They got it right. You didn’t. He was an all star in 1970 & 1971. Even got league MVP votes, gold glove, base stealer, strong range and arm, and World Series champ.
Or
Harrelson is a dearly remembered Met who has dementia, or Altzheimer’s. No need to make him your punching bag.
FWIW – I watched Harrelson play many, many, many more games than I would have liked. And I’m fully aware that MLB clubs (and fans) put a ridiculous premium on defense on players up the middle. Most front offices have moved on from that. A far fewer number of fans from that era have.
I’m sorry for Harrelson’s health issues. I regret nothing written here, which are the same type of thoughts, if expressed in a different way, that I would have said back in the 1970s.
I remember Bud, and he wasn’t so terrible.
In fact, there was one year he walked about 100 times, and that’s hard to do hitting 8th with a wet noodle.
There it is:
1970 was doubtlessly his best offensive season.
Among his lifetimes stats, 1970 was his best year for
G, PA, AB R, 2B, 3B, HR, RBI, BB, SLG, OPS
And that’s when he clocked 95 walks
1970 was his second best season total in H (by 1), SB and OBP
But here’s the problem: in his best offensive season, his OPS+ was 79
Bleh.
See, if you’re that much of a void in your team’s offense, in order to be a net positive factor, you have to be a defensive SS on the order of O. Smith… or at least O. rdonez
So maybe punching bag is only very slightly harsh
Jose,
The criteria for big league SS has surely changed. It’s questionable whether Harrelson would have even reached the majors if he played today. He was a quality defensive SS but was no Ozzie Smith or Rey Ordonez.
In the recent Rule-5 draft, there was a selection of a very light-hitting, defensive wiz SS with superb speed. I think it was a Marlins player.
Brian,
I wrote a response, but it got swallowed up and disappeared after clicking on “Post Comment.”
Perhaps the universe was trying to tell you something…
That’s a great card, for all the reasons you identify. Citifield is certainly a nicer facility, but I miss Shea as well.
Calling Buddy forgettable is a bit harsh. Perhaps statistically. But, he was the primary shortstop on two World Series teams, including the 69 champs. Those teams were pitching/defense/boring offense gems, representative of baseball past. Buddy managed a 20 WAR career while never hitting more than 1 homer in a season. I cannot remember one play he was involved in besides the Rose dust up, but I’ll always remember him as a contributor on two of the most memorable Met teams ever, even with 69 being before my time.
Players exist in the context of their time. The comparison at the time was Stick Michael and Mark Belanger. Buddy was right there with both of them. Harrelson was the best SS in the NL East in his day. He also did a lot of little things that don’t show up in metrics, He moved runners along. He made pitchers comfortable with contact. He was the leader of the infielders (even Jerry Grote deferred to him). The position has changed in the decades since he played, to be sure. But he was everything you would want in a SS when he was playing. That’s really all you can ask.