Milt Wilcox 1983 Donruss #155

For one day, Milt Wilcox was nearly perfect. Pitching for the Detroit Tigers against the Chicago White Sox on April 15, 1983, Wilcox retired 26 batters in a row. He was just one out away from a perfect game when pinch-hitter Jerry Hairston hit a clean single through the infield. Wilcox retired the next batter and had to settle for a one-hit shutout.  

Wilcox’s 1983 Donruss card features a really cool photo of him. He has a look of grim determination on his face as he’s just delivered a ball to the plate. The crowd in the background is blurred and out of focus. I’m a sucker for that type of sports photography, where the player is in focus, but the background is blurred and indistinct. It’s sort of a visual metaphor for how I imagine sports must be for professional athletes—the crowd fades into the background; what’s in focus is only what is right in front of you. All that matters is getting this batter out.  

The back of Milt Wilcox’s 1983 Donruss card also features one of my favorite random facts. After recapping some of Wilcox’s career, the final sentence tells us: “Once raised chinchillas during off-season.” What?? Was there a Milt Wilcox Chinchilla Farm? Why did he only raise them once? Are chinchillas that troublesome or unprofitable? I have so many questions.  

Rediscovering this baseball card made me think more about Milt Wilcox’s career. Wilcox had a 16-year career in the major leagues, finishing with a career record of 119-113. He never won 20 games in a season; he was never an All-Star. He was just a gamer who battled arm and shoulder injuries throughout his career. Wilcox had a taste of glory at the very beginning of his career, as he first came up with the Cincinnati Reds at the end of the 1970 season. He won a game in the NLCS against the Pirates and pitched in two games in the 1970 World Series. But after that promising start, Wilcox was traded to the lowly Cleveland Indians. Wilcox spent the entire 1976 season in the minor leagues. His fortunes started to turn around when the Tigers purchased him from the Chicago Cubs in June of 1976. His major league record at that point was a pedestrian 22-30.  

Wilcox recovered some of his arm strength during the winter of 1976-77 through bowling. By the time spring training started, his arm finally felt healthy again. In June 1977, Wilcox was called up to the Tigers and appeared in his first major league game in two years. In 1978, Wilcox won 13 games, his first time in double digits for a season. He threw 16 complete games, pitching a career-high 215 1/3 innings. From 1978 to 1983, Wilcox won between 11 and 13 games every season. Wilcox was the Tigers’ union representative during these years, including during the 1981 baseball strike. After the 1981 season, Wilcox suffered what his 1982 Donruss card called a “career-threatening” injury, as he sprained ligaments in his right index finger during a charity basketball game. Fortunately, Wilcox healed over the offseason.  

In 1984, Wilcox and the Tigers had an amazing season. The Tigers opened the season with a 35-5 record and never looked back. Wilcox won his first 6 decisions. Wilcox was pitching through an immense amount of pain—he later revealed that he received 7 cortisone injections in his shoulder during that season. Wilcox slowed down during June, and after a loss to the White Sox on July 4, 1984, his record stood at 8-6. Wilcox was on fire for the rest of the year, as he went 9-2 in the second half of the season, to finish with a record of 17-8. Wilcox had won the deciding game of the 1970 NLCS that sent the Reds to the World Series, and in 1984 he threw 8 shutout innings, beating the Kansas City Royals to send the Tigers to the World Series. Wilcox joked that he couldn’t wait for the 1998 postseason, to continue his trend of winning a Championship Series every 14 years. In the 1984 World Series, the Tigers and the Padres split the first two games in San Diego. Wilcox started Game 3 in Detroit, the first World Series game in the city since 1968. He threw 6 innings, scattering 7 hits and giving up just 1 run, as the Tigers won, 5-2. The Tigers won the next two games to win the World Series.  

After his triumph in Game 3 of the 1984 World Series, Milt Wilcox won just one more major league game. He missed most of the 1985 season and signed as a free agent with the Seattle Mariners for 1986. In 13 games with the Mariners, Wilcox went 0-8 with a 5.50 ERA. The Mariners released him in mid-June. But the competitive fire was still there. Wilcox had a tryout with the Giants in 1988, which didn’t lead to him being signed. In 1989, Wilcox pitched for the St. Petersburg Pelicans of the Senior Professional Baseball Association and had a fantastic season, going 12-3 with a sparkling 3.19 ERA. Wilcox was 3-1 in 1990 when the league folded, bringing his professional baseball career to an end. Wilcox’s baseball career began in 1968, a pretty remarkable run.  

While researching Milt Wilcox’s career for this article, I discovered that Milt Wilcox said he had no superstitions. It was just a coincidence that he ate blueberry pancakes on the days that he started and never stepped on the foul line. I appreciate someone with a sense of humor like that.

Milt Wilcox is just a great baseball name. When I was a kid collecting baseball cards, there were players I was just drawn to because they had cool names: Julian Javier, Mike Lum, Bill North, Kurt Bevacqua, Chris Chambliss. Milt Wilcox had a cool name. He was a player whose cards I would buy when I found them in the commons bin. I doubt that I’m related to Milt Wilcox, but my great-grandmother's maiden name was Wilcox, so maybe that accounted for some of my affection for Milt Wilcox.  

Finding this baseball card yesterday was a great reminder that a baseball card set is really 600 or 700 individual stories, each with their own points of interest.  

317 Keith Hernandez Baseball Cards

My box of 317 Keith Hernandez baseball cards. (Photo by Mark C. Taylor)

I’ve always liked Keith Hernandez. He was one of those players I knew about pretty early on in my childhood baseball fandom, which started right around 1986 and 1987, probably the peak of Hernandez’s fame. I knew Keith Hernandez played first base for the Mets and had an awesome mustache. I knew that his nickname was “Mex,” even though he wasn’t actually Mexican. (The 1980’s were a different time...) I knew the Cardinals had made a disastrous move by trading him to the Mets in 1983 for Neil Allen. (And Rick Ownbey, but as a kid it stuck in my mind as Hernandez for Allen.) And from the backs of his baseball cards, I knew that Keith Hernandez was a Civil War buff. I theorized from all of this that Keith Hernandez must be a pretty cool guy. (And this was before I knew that Keith smoked cigarettes in the dugout and did crossword puzzles.) I read Hernandez’s book If At First, a diary of the Mets’ 1985 season, when I was a kid, although I don’t know if I made it through all 400+ pages of it. And a good amount of it just went over my head, of course. As an adult, I read Hernandez’s entertaining book Pure Baseball, in which he examines two baseball games pitch by pitch. I remember finding the book in a used bookstore and thinking to myself, “Wow, going through a game pitch by pitch? That’s for like a hardcore baseball fan. Oh wait, that’s me.” And I always enjoy reading random articles about Keith and his cat, or whatever random things he’s been talking about on Mets broadcasts. 

Recently I had a dream that Keith Hernandez figured in somehow. I don’t remember exactly what it was, maybe I saw one of his baseball cards? Who knows, my subconscious focuses on odd things sometimes. After that I decided, “You know what? I need to get all of Keith Hernandez’s baseball cards.” I found an inexpensive lot on eBay. Fittingly enough, it was for 317 Keith Hernandez cards—Keith wore number 17 for the Mets. (The Mets retired his number in 2022.)  

The lot featured a nice variety of Hernandez’s cards from 1980-1991. Nothing super rare, but a few special cards beyond just the base issues from the major manufacturers.  

Keith Hernandez's iconic 1979 Topps card. 

The lot unfortunately didn’t include Hernandez’s iconic 1979 Topps card. This is a card that I’ve had since childhood, and it’s just so cool. Keith is looking off-camera, smiling and handsome, his iconic mustache now at it’s full glory. (Vern Rapp had forbidden facial hair during his stint as Cardinals’ manager, so Keith was clean-shaven on his 1978 Topps card.) As a kid, I remember finding it odd that the “STL” logo on Keith’s batting helmet was peeling off. (Same with the helmet on Lou Brock’s 1979 Topps card.)  

Hernandez’s 1980 and 1981 Topps cards are pretty cool as well. I can’t believe that Topps gave Keith card number 321 for the 1980 set, instead of a “star” number ending in 5 or 0. Hernandez had “star” numbers in the 1977 and 1979 sets, so I guess they were on an every other year pattern with Keith. But he led the majors in batting average in 1979, hitting .344! He was the co-MVP with Willie Stargell in 1979, of course he should get a star number card the next year!  

In 1987, Fleer still didn't realize that Keith didn't live in Saint Louis.

It’s funny to see that Fleer still thought that Keith lived in St. Louis in 1987. Obviously, no one at Fleer had read If At First, where Keith describes his East Side condo.  

These cards stuck in my memory. Athletes can be intelligent too!

Keith’s 1985 Topps card and his 1988 Topps Big card both reference his interest in the Civil War. As a kid who was also interested in the Civil War, I thought this was pretty cool, and proof that Keith must be a smart guy.  

Keith's 1991 Score and Fleer cards. It's so weird to see him with the Indians.

This lot of 317 cards also featured a few cards of Hernandez with the Cleveland Indians. It’s just weird to see Keith in a uniform that isn’t the Cardinals or Mets. Hernandez only played 43 games for the Indians in 1990 before injuries forced him to retire. This lot of Keith Hernandez cards brought back fond memories of one of the coolest baseball players of the 1970’s and 1980’s.  

1977 Topps Ted Simmons #470

1977 Topps Ted Simmons #470. I think this is such a cool photo.

The back of Ted Simmons' 1977 Topps card.

With the election of Ted Simmons to the Baseball Hall of Fame this week, I thought I should take a look at my favorite baseball card of his: 1977 Topps #470. I’ve always liked Ted Simmons, partially because he played for my second favorite baseball team: the St. Louis Cardinals. I think his election to the Hall of Fame is long overdue. 

Simmons was overshadowed by Johnny Bench during the beginning of his career, and then by Gary Carter during the latter part of his career. There’s certainly no shame in being upstaged by the two best catchers in baseball history, according to WAR. 

Simmons’ 1977 Topps card is a really cool photo. It shows Simmons in profile, head down, catcher’s mask and hat in one hand, glove on the other. Is Simmons listening to the national anthem before the game starts? Or did the camera just catch him in a moment of contemplation between innings? The photo also shows the National League Centennial patch that all the NL teams wore during the 1976 season, and the pillbox hats that some of the NL teams wore that season. This photo also gives you a good look at Ted Simmons’ awesome hair. Earlier in the 1970’s Simmons had been wearing his hair much longer, leading to his nickname of “Simba,” as it resembled a lion’s mane. 

Simmons was a great hitter during his years with the St. Louis Cardinals, 1968-1980, putting up an OPS+ of 127, and a slash line of .298/.366/.459. Simmons became an everyday player in 1971, and from 1971-1980 he caught an average of 135 games a year. Simmons’ career in St. Louis came to an end when Whitey Herzog took over as manager and general manager in 1980. Herzog loved the catcher he had managed in Kansas City, the bespectacled Darrell Porter, and Herzog just didn’t like Ted Simmons—specifically, his defense. After signing Porter as a free agent after the 1980 season, Herzog wanted to move Simmons to first base, and then move Keith Hernandez to left field. Obviously, Herzog didn’t understand that he had maybe the best-fielding first baseman of all-time on his team. (In a terrible move in June of 1983, the Cardinals traded Hernandez to the Mets for Neil Allen and Rick Ownbey.) Simmons asked to be traded, and so the Cardinals sent Simmons, Rollie Fingers, (who was only a Cardinal for four days) and Pete Vuckovich to the Brewers for David Green, Dave LaPoint, Sixto Lezcano, and Lary Sorensen. The Cardinals had traded two future Hall of Famers, and the 1981 and 1982 AL Cy Young Award winners. Oops. But Lezcano was one of the players the Cardinals sent to the Padres for Ozzie Smith, so it all worked out. The Cardinals and the Brewers ended up facing off in the 1982 World Series. The Cardinals triumphed in 7 games. Fingers was injured and didn’t pitch in the postseason. Simmons slugged two home runs for the Brewers. Darrell Porter was the World Series MVP. 

In addition to being a great catcher, Ted Simmons also seems like a very cool guy. For a baseball player, Simmons was a bit of an iconoclast. In addition to his long hair, Simmons was also a vocal opponent of Richard Nixon’s administration. Simmons might have become baseball’s first free agent, as he started to play the 1972 season without signing his contract. Simmons eventually signed his contract in late July of 1972, thus making the point moot. Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally did the same thing in 1975, pitching for the entire season without contracts, and an arbitrator ruled that they were free agents, thus ending baseball’s reserve clause. Simmons was a collector of antiques and a trustee of the St. Louis Art Museum. In an article from Sports Illustrated from 1978, Simmons is quoted as “authoritatively discussing the evolution of the fireplace in American households.” The whole article is worth reading, as it gives you a glimpse of a very intelligent man. 

As a young man, Simmons had sleepy eyes and long, dark hair, so I think the obvious choice to play him in a 1970’s made-for-TV movie would have been Tony Danza. Okay, so Simmons isn’t Italian, but it would have worked. “The Ted Simmons Story: From Simba to Museum Trustee,” airing next week on NBC.