-- by Josh Suchon
Note to readers: The feedback on
the “You Were Lucky, Hershiser” story was so positive, and triggered so many
memories from a childhood where my playground was the Oakland Coliseum, I’ve
decided to share more of these stories. I’m blatantly stealing this idea from
“Cardboard Gods” author Josh Wilker, who used his baseball card collection to
tell the story of his childhood in the 1970s. Wilker gave me his blessing, so
I’m going to use my autograph collection to tell the story of my childhood in
the 1980s.
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, two families competed for the title of best family in baseball -- the Alomars and the Ripkens.
The similarities
are impressive: both were led by strong fathers who didn’t have much of a
playing career, but were consummate baseball men who stayed in the game as
coaches, and taught their sons the right way to play; both of the older sons
went on to a Hall of Fame career; both of the younger sons had solid careers;
both named one of their son Junior; and most important, both families were huge
targets to an autograph-obsessed kid like me.
What
follows is a comparison of how the two families grade out, strictly on a
Sharpie Scribble scale:
Sheer volume of autographs
The final tally is 16 for the
Alomars and n11 for the Ripkens in my collection. It breaks down with eight by
Roberto, seven for Sandy Junior, one for Sandy Senior, six for Cal Junior, three for Billy, and two
for Cal Senior.
Considering
the overwhelming number of my autographs came at the Oakland Coliseum, this is an
impressive total for a National League family like the Alomars. It shows how
much I took advantage of spring training and how accommodating they were.
Off
memory, I want to say that Billy was back in the minor leagues during my peak
1987-89 years of collecting. But that wasn’t the case.
Upon checking baseball-reference.com, Billy was in the majors. For some odd reason, Billy was just a much tougher autograph to obtain than his more in-demand older brother. You'd think it was the other way.
Upon checking baseball-reference.com, Billy was in the majors. For some odd reason, Billy was just a much tougher autograph to obtain than his more in-demand older brother. You'd think it was the other way.
Edge to the Alomars.
Quality of penmanship
If you looked at any of Alomar autographs
on a blank index card, without pictures or names around it, you’d have a
difficult time identifying them. The best chance would be with Roberto’s, and I
like the style of his autograph (just like I liked his style as a player). It’s
interesting how similar Sandy Junior’s scribble compares to his father’s.
The
signature of Cal Senior looks like a guy trying to get perfect marks in
penmanship class -- legible and clean and professional. I dig the style of Cal
Senior’s signature, especially the way he’d put a J at the end of it.
Billy's strikes me as slightly lazy. It's basically B-Rip. Of
course, I’m sure most of the autographs Billy was asked to sign were alongside
his dad and brother, and he was probably sick of it.
Edge to the Ripkens.
Personal connection
What I recall about the Alomar
autographs is the casual fan didn’t know who they were in 1988 and 1989, and I
got the impression all of the family members were impressed that I knew who
they were.
Whenever you hand a minor league card to a player, he’s usually impressed
with your knowledge of his career and desire to get an unusual items signed. I
found that most took a little extra time to make sure they delivered a better
scribble. That was definitely the case when I handed the Alomar brothers a card
from the Texas League all-star game.
Only one
memory stands out about getting any of the Ripken autographs, but it’s a
powerful image. It was either in 1987 or 1988, and I was waiting in the players
parking lot. A group of Orioles took a hotel shuttle together to the Coliseum.
Cal was dressed the best out of anybody. Cal got out of the shuttle first. He
waved his teammates off the shuttle, made sure to tip the driver, and I recall
the driver’s smile was a little bigger, so you know the tip was pretty good.
Then
Cal patiently stood there and signed everybody’s autograph. He didn’t walk and
sign and cause havoc. It was like Cal understood this was part of the job description,
that he was not only the face of the Orioles (who were awful at the time), but
he was also an ambassador for all of baseball.
Can’t recall which of the six autographs
I obtained that day, but I know it wasn’t the smeared one. In fact, I think the
smeared one was obtained through the mail, and smears were actually a common
drawback for getting autographs in the mail. I got Cal’s autograph on at least
three occasions, and I’m guessing it was probably five different times.
Too close to call; no edge.
Peak item to brag about
Getting all three Ripkens
signatures from that famous Sports Illustrated issue was a huge goal. Even though
it looks ugly, the white scuffs at the bottom of my SI are a sign that I was a
subscriber, and the first thing you did when the magazine arrived was try to
remove that mailing sticker as gingerly as possible.
I was able to get Cal
Junior and Senior on that SI, but not Billy. I can't tell you why I'd get Billy's signature on baseball cards, instead of this magazine. My guess is that I forgot about the SI, and didn't try getting the magazine signatures until after I'd already obtained scribbles on baseball cards. Or maybe I hadn't decided that getting SI covers autographed wasn't cool, until one of my friends did it first.
My memory is not precise, but I recall Billy wasn’t as friendly to us autograph seekers. I always felt empathy toward him, getting compared to his older brother, and never coming close to his accomplishments.
My memory is not precise, but I recall Billy wasn’t as friendly to us autograph seekers. I always felt empathy toward him, getting compared to his older brother, and never coming close to his accomplishments.
The
8x10 photo of the Alomars was in wide circulation in 1989. From the gray road
uniforms and background, I can tell the picture was taken at Phoenix Municipal
Stadium. The picture was probably taken in 1988, when the brothers were both
top prospects.
Since they’re not looking directly at the camera, my guess is a
whole bunch of photographers got that shot that day. The photo in the Fleer
card was taken the same day, and it looks like they delicately told Sandy
Senior to get out of the frame.
I’m almost certain I obtained all three
signatures on the photo, and the two on the card, in spring training 1989. It
might have occurred all on the same day. The spring of 1989, I had most of the A's players that I wanted, so I was usually one of the only people on the visiting side of the field. I'd get the best spot and totally dominate. The number that sticks out in my head was 222 total autographs in a nine-day stretch.
I'm pretty sure, in fact, that every Alomar in my collection was obtained that week.
What I know for sure is that 8x10 photo, and the photo of the Alomar brothers, immediately went inside the best 8x10 frame I had at home. The Ripken item remained
in a mere plastic sheet the last 25 years.
Edge to the Alomars.
Post-autograph seeking run-ins
Most of the chapters in this Sharpie
Scribbles feature is not just the autographs obtained as a teen-ager, but how I
later interviewed the athletes as a journalist. Surprisingly, my interaction
with all six was really limited.
I never
interviewed any of the Alomars. They were always in the opposite league of
whatever league I was covering at the time. Billy’s career ended in 1998, Cal
Senior’s life ended in 1999, and I didn’t start covering baseball regularly
until 2000.
The
only person from either family that I ever interviewed was Cal Junior, and that
was part of group interviews during the 2001 all-star game. Cal’s home run is one
of my best all-star game memories. The day before the game, one of my sidebars
was asking Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez what Ripken meant to the game. Cal’s
home run made him the obvious focal point of the game story.
Edge to the Ripkens.
Summary and Conclusion
So it’s
tied 2-2-1 in five categories. I really didn’t rig these categories to force a
tie. I hate ties. Honestly, I can’t think of any other categories. If you’ve
got one, let me know, and I’ll update this.
Overall,
my heart gives the edge to the Alomars. Quantity, quality, and unique items make
the Alomar autographs some of the proudest in my collection back in the day. I
mean, who buys a minor league card of a player in 1988, gets it autographed in
1989, and then the player makes the Hall of Fame two decades later?
Victory to the Alomars.
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