Going And Doing It

Mistakes. I've made a lot of them over the years. Some of them were minor and forgotten in a day or so. Others, well they linger in the back of my mind until I'm alone at night and then they attack me.

Most of them aren't blog related. But every now and then I do feel guilty for certain things I've done.

The biggest is when I messed up Night Owl Cards' plan to complete the 1975 Topps mini set on his own. A lifelong mission he's had since his childhood that I had to go and ruin by bringing it to an anticlimactic finish sandwiched between Jeremy Rathjen and Zach Lee.

I left a comment when he blogged about completing the set, saying that I was going to become a hermit out of shame. Obviously that was sarcastic but I did feel guilty. Still do. Had I known that NO wanted to end matters with his own hands I would have let him. But I didn't know and well, disaster struck.

Night Owl has since reassured me that what I did was good but the psychology major in me sees that as just a way for him to hide his feelings of emptiness and contempt as his goal came to an end (and maybe so I don't feel so bad).

Before we go on let me just say that this is not meant to shame or embarrass NO. I know it's dumb to think that helping someone finish off a set is a bad thing. It's just that if it's a set which has as much significance. As much influence. As much importance as the 1975 mini set does to Night Owl, well I'd want to finish it with my own hands too. I can't help feeling like I really fumbled the ball there.

Well I learned my lesson immediately, no more helping people with completing sets. It just screws things up. Better to just chuck random singles their way in hopes that some of them click. That's the way I've rolled since.

I hadn't really picked up any 1975 minis since then either. But I figured that it was time to change that. A set that left that much of an impression on NO must be significant.

And my very first 1975 Topps mini card of Sweet Lou is here to show me what is/was that significance.

A lot of the charm can be attributed to the design itself, the same one used by the regular sized version. It's very colorful and pops out. It's really no wonder why the design has held up over the years.

Truth be told I'm not big on facsimile signatures and part of me thinks this design would've been better without them, but it doesn't ruin it either. At a time when certified autographs weren't a thing these must've been a great way for young fans to see their favorite players' signatures. Especially those who lived miles away from their favorite teams or an MLB team in general.

Somehow this mini is in better shape than my standard size version

As a collector in the 2010's the idea of a "mini" doesn't exactly knock my socks off but I can see why these were cool back in the day when minis were still a novelty. I assume it'd be like when I first came across mini cards. Something about a smaller variation makes you just pause for a second and say "wow, these are different but cool." Seeing the tinier versions in your hand. They're so small, so frail, so vulnerable. They're at your mercy and must do as you say or lest they suffer your unholy wra...

Anyway, according to NO, this is apparently Piniella's first card as a Yankee (in Yankees gear). One of these days I might as well collect all of his Yankees-era base cards and add him to the unofficial PC player list. Until then all eyes are focused on Piniella there, staring at something off in the distance. He's so awestruck that his mouth is open. My guess is that it's either Mickey Mantle getting head or an Aaron Judge dinger breaking a TV.

And there you have it. The very first 1975 Topps mini card in my collection. Apologies to Night Owl again for ruining what was supposed to be his shining achievement. Hopefully that Buehler really can go into triple digits like Kershaw did.

And as always thank you (the readers) for stopping by. Take care :).