The Future Star Dilemma

Back in my childhood trading card days, (the glory years of these cards were the late 70's and early 80's) many sets had a team's (less often a “mixture” of teams) future prospects listed on a single card.  It was usually three players. More often than not (exceptions to this rule were guys like Cal Ripken, Jr. and Paul Molitor) these players seemed not to make it to the big leagues, and if they did they didn’t achieve much. In the set for 1977 Topps, mixed future stars from different teams appeared on one card.  It was an odd set up, really, compared to what came before and after that season. 

However there was one particular card, in that 77 set, where each player left their mark on the game in a different way and at a different level. 

Here is that story.

Jack Clark

Now, Jack “The Ripper” Clark ripped up Major League Baseball for years.  He had one of those "borderline" hall of fame careers, where some may feel as though he should be in the legendary confines anyway.  I mean, after all, he hit 340 home runs, banged out 1826 hits, was a four time all star and twice a silver slugger.  I mean, if that's not enough to gain entry it's GOTTA be close.  So close, Columbia University has developed a test where Clark's career is used as a measuring stick for whether or not a considered player belongs in The Hall.  Somewhere, that has GOT to have Jack shaking his head.  And with a career this good, this long, why is his rookie card (shared with others or not) only valued at a couple bucks?

Ruppert Jones

Hall of Fame aside, I used to purposely collect cards of players who had damn fine careers, but despite their numbers, were considered in the hobby's nomenclature as "commons".  Guys like Jason Thompson, Jeff Burroughs, Cesar Cedeno, Tony Armas, and as seen here, Ruppert Jones.  Believe it or not, there's a lot of guys out there that topped 1,000 hits, 150 or more homers, and racked up some steals and batting average but would never even come within sniffing distance of Cooperstown.  Damn shame, really, to put up such impressive stats, and be thought of as a "common".  At least they would usually make their own team's Hall of Fame. 

 

Lee Mazzilli.  

Mazzilli sprung onto a bad Mets team in 1976.  He was built like an underwear model, hit for average and occasional power, ran the field and the bases well.  Apparently the only thing he was lacking in was arm strength. (However he was ambidextrous).  He did nail down an all-star spot once, but there's one thing he led the league in consistently.  BIG HAIR.

The ladies loved Lee.  He probably was the only thing selling tickets at Shea in his era.  Regardless, after a damn fine five year stint, he was traded, and ended up being a career journeyman.  In 1986, he returned as a role player to the Mets and helped them get a World Series championship.  He retired to do some managing and even got himself into the movies.  How fitting.

Source: SABR Bio Project

Dan Thomas

Out of the 4 players on this card, this one is the most sad and disturbing.  Dan Thomas was one of the first "can't miss" prospects that gave 70's Brewers hopefuls hope.  He got off to a slow start in the minor leagues that had folks worried, but soon righted the ship (other than a 2 month suspension for a parking lot punch-out of an umpire).  Once he got to The Show his talent popped up. Sadly, a serious bout with mental illness surfaced, this seemed to level off with his joining of a religious sect.  With this, he told the Brewers brass that he couldn't play evenings on weekends, as that was his religion's sabbath, thus resulting in him becoming known as "The Sundown Kid".  Eventually, he ended up ridden out of the league due to those religion-related issues and further mental problems.  After some independent league play, he downgraded to odd jobs before being arrested for a sexual assault of a minor.  He then hung himself in jail, and was buried in a paupers grave as he was also penniless at this time. 

Now I'm fuckin' depressed. 

Source:  The Shepherd Express

As a kid, one Christmas, my parents bought me a couple of vintage issues of Street and Smiths baseball preview. And I believe it was the 1977 Milwaukee Brewers preview article that showed a photograph of Dan Thomas sliding into third base.

 I remember looking at an otherwise dismal prediction for the 77 Brewers, and thinking “who the hell is this guy?”  He became a mystery during the pre internet era.  As the years passed, I’ve learned about Dan Thomas from reading about him on Josh Wilker’s “Cardboard Gods” website, and a rather informative article in Milwaukee’s “Shepherd's Press” magazine. Otherwise little more. 

Thomas’ career statistics are far from as impressive as the other 3 guys on the card, as he only played parts of two seasons, yet he is still so invariably different from the other three players in a thousand other ways.  The degree of difference is more than the other three players are from each other, though those chaps are all shades apart to some extent.  However, there’s no denying that all four of these players left an indelible yet distinctly different mark on major league baseball in some form or fashion, good or bad, light or dark.

And that’s what makes this “future star”card unique among it’s contemporaries.