[SBG Note: CarterHayes provides us with a discussion on Twins baseball cards. Thanks, CH!]

[SBG Note: I bumped this forward so that it gets a little more attention. I wrote some half-baked crap that buried it.]

I want to talk to you about baseball cards. Like (I suspect) many of you, my interest in baseball was nourished by two factors: an older relative who was an avid fan, and collecting cards. I grew up collecting in the Eighties and Nineties, and many of my most firm early memories of baseball come from spending summer nights looking through and organizing my collection (in particular the 1986 and 1987 Topps sets) while listening to Herb on the radio.

My introduction to stats certainly came from memorizing the various accomplishments of guys like Tom Brunansky, Dave Engle, and (gulp) Ron Davis, while also searing into my mind the faces of the mid-Eighties Twins and the proper spelling of names like Lombardozzi, Teufel, and Berenguer.

Card collecting hasn't been a hobby of mine since 1993 or so. I haven't bought a single pack of cards in over a decade, and I don't even have my cards in the house I currently live in. While I've moved around the country they've all stayed at my dad's place in south-western Wisconsin, the important ones put in protective sleeves and binders, the lesser ones filed in the special white cardboard boxes or even stuffed into a few shoeboxes in the basement. When I visit my folks I'll flip through my Twins collection occasionally, but not more than once or twice a year, just to make sure that all-important Terry Jorgensen rookie card that was going to pay for my college tuition is still there. I'm letting it appreciate in value some. By the time my kids are ready to go to college there shouldn't be more than four or five Jorgensen rookies left in the world.

When I first heard about TwinsCards.com I became very excited. Not only would I be able to check out my favorite cards online whenever I wanted, but the site seemed to be an invaluable resource to bloggers looking for a picture of the otherwise elusive Vic Albury.

Only recently, however, have I come to really understand my taste in cards. I don't need glossy action shots to keep my interest. I don't necessarily get bored with the American Legion booster photo-style early cards. What I like are cards that best capture the essence of the player they portray. I really think this is deeply connected to this semester's study of Eastern Christianity and the practice of iconography, but I'm merely going to acknowledge the influence without going into a laborious discussion of athlete deification in American culture.

The best way to share my thoughts on the topic would be to highlight specific players and their cards, both good and bad examples of the "bottling" of this essence. I'll try to stick to the players – and cards – I know the best, those printed from about 1980 to 1998. Here goes:

The Good

Dan Gladden – 1992 Fleer #203

For my money there really isn't a better card of Gladden, though the 1991 and 1992 Upper Deck come pretty close. The front is typical Gladden – slap hit (or bunt, perhaps) to somewhere, roaring out of the box, platinum mullet flapping defiantly. The back is just as good – hair poking out everywhere from under the cap (in little league I remember emulating Gladden's signature losing-of-the-cap when chasing deep flies), the studied application of grinder eye black. But Gladden isn't a prima donna, and he's not putting it on in front of a mirror. He's just using his shades and smudging it on there really good. If the Twins ever had a wanna-be Arrr Matey! Pirate (as opposed to the Andy Van Slyke kind), Danny Gladden would have been it.

Bert Blyleven – 1989 Topps #555

A card like this doesn't get Bert into the Hall of Fame, and perhaps for that reason alone I should be reproached for picking it. If you're looking for a card that says “Only eligible pitcher with 3500+ SO and 60 SHO not in the Hall,” well, maybe the card for you is his “Old Master” (couldn't resist the Dutch pun, sorry) 1988 Score. The career totals, plus blurb on the back, make this the card to include in all anti-Olney-type campaign materials.

If you're like me, though, Bert was more than just a guy who could bend a great curve. From what I've read, Kyle Lohse threw a pretty good one, too. What made Bert stand out as a player clearly wasn't his stats – at least to the writers – but his antics. The guy was an inner-circle member of the Prankster Hall of Fame. Bert's hot foot was leagues better than his curve, and his willingness to go to any length for a laugh (crawling in the tobacco spit and accumulated flotsam under dugout benches), born out of the soul-crushing boredom of pitching for such stellar clubs as the 1984 Cleveland Indians, is the stuff of legend.

There is only one picture on the '89 card, but it likely captures one of these moments of mirth. Bert's enjoying a chuckle at the expense of a teammate, laugh lines creasing the corners of sly eyes. He may have been a damn fine pitcher, but he also knew how to have a Bertin' good time.

Gene Larkin – 1992 Upper Deck #187

Everyman plays Twister with an unidentified California Angel.

Marty Cordova – 1998 Topps #435

In 1997 I was casting about for a new favorite Twin. Kirby, a childhood favorite, was out of the game. Chuck Knoblauch, my favorite player since the summer of '91, was in the middle of a off-year and already antagonizing management. Every way you looked at it, it was a tough time to be a Twins fan.

Lost in the upheaval, I turned my lonely eyes to Marty Cordova. He seemed to have the credentials to take over the top spot, and he certainly didn't have much competition, not from the Beckers and Stahoviaks of the world, anyway. The batting line seemed pretty good to my teenage eye, and as a left fielder he was a big improvement over Petey Munoz. The front of the card captures the appeal of Cordova, some of the energy. His posture in the photo calls to mind Mercury, both the god and the metal. Fluid, somewhat quick (before the injuries). I expect to see wings on his ankles.

But the photo on the back tells the story of the other Cordova, the (to my memory) tempermental young slugger who probably clashed often with iron-clad management and drew the ire of his mannerly skipper by tossing his helmet after one of his many strikeouts. If I remember right it was his attitude that earned him a ticket out of town. Looking at the back of the card leaves me frustrated, wondering what might have been had Cordova's back held up and cooler heads prevailed.

Brian Harper – 1991 Score # 312

Forget what I said about Bert, or what I'll say about a certain chubby first baseman later on. Harper's 1991 Score is all about the best of what #12 did on the diamond. Look at the picture on the front. You can practically hear the ball screaming into the outfield for a double, maybe even a triple for someone with more speed afoot than eight-career-stolen-bases Harp. Look at the ferocity of the swing, and then remember how seldom the guy struck out; the juxtaposition of the two is the greatness of the card.

The back is a simple headshot of the man Kirby Puckett called “Ravishing Rick Harper” (how many wrestling fans there were in the clubhouse in that era). You can almost hear the Southern California accent explaining the excitement around home plate in October of 1991. That excitement is captured on Harper's 1992 Score World Series Insert, but while Harper's defense of home plate might have been the defining moment of his career, the man made his living off scorching liners into the gap and striking out at a clip even lower than Torii Hunter's walk rate.

Joe Niekro – 1987 Classic (Yellow) # 120

The back of the card had a empty box with a spot for Joe's autograph. I wonder if anyone ever got him to sign this card.

Steve Bedrosian – 1992 Upper Deck #622

I always wondered how Bedrosian felt the trade that sent him to the Twins. Did he feel that, as a former Cy Young winner, he should have the inside track on the closer's job? Did he and Rick Aguilera get along? Did they share beard grooming tips? Was the real greatness of the 1991 club the hirsute style of the relief corps?

Greg Olson – 1990 Topps Major League Debut (1989) #093

"When Greg Olson joined the Twins to replace injured Danny Gladden June 27, he fulfilled a childhood dream..."

Mr. Olsen, meet Mr. Gladden.

The Bad

Kent Hrbek – 1992 Score #530

Not so much bad as it is simply disappointing. The front is above average - any picture of Hrbek launching one into the seats is certainly nowhere close to a misrepresentation of the big fella as a player. But the back is a let-down of sorts, just a headshot of a sweaty, kinda jowly Hrbek staring into the middle ground, lost in thought. He could be thinking about anything – clubhouse antics, blueberry pie with an extra scoop of ice cream, bass fishin' – but wouldn't it be better to have a photographic bust of the Inside Guy blowing an cantaloupe-sized, about-to-pop bubble of Big League Chew?

In that respect, even the front doesn't quite capture the essence of Herbie. He was more than a big, slow-footed slugger. He was a an adult (a big kid, really) playing a child's game for money, loving every minute of it. The perfect Hrbek card would have the Bubblicious Kent on the back, and the front would capture one of two moments – his jubilant jump after recording the final out of the '87 Series, or the somewhat overblown but ever-so-Hrbek T-Rexing of Ron Gant in 1991 .

Special Note: The 2005 Upper Deck Legends is about as Hrbek as you can get on a baseball card.

Greg Gagne – 1986 Topps #162

Pick a great Gagne card. It's not hard. The 1989 Topps Team Leaders card started the trend of interesting, defense-oriented front shots. The six Gags gems of 1991 -- Bowman, Leaf, Score, Topps, Ultra, and Upper Deck, and the curtain call 1992 Topps and Upper Deck are shining examples of the first person, to this day, that pops into my head when I hear the word "shortstop." The 1986 Topps design itself is a classic, but the grainy photo of Gagne, the unfamiliar portrayal of him in the double-knits, and the shutter-preempted toss of the helmet really don't do this layout justice.

Pat Mahomes – 1994 Tops #043

I'm not sure, maybe this card is actually a good representation of Mahomes. What a flake.

Carmen Castillo – 1990 Upper Deck # 281

I remember thinking "Gee, that guy really looks like a ball player!" the first time I saw this card. The front was exciting, leading me to think that Castillo was could become the next Joe Carter or Mike Greenwell if he were only given enough playing time. To me, this card is flagrant case of false advertising by Upper Deck.

Tim Laudner – Any Card, Any Year (but 1985 Score #134 if you want to get picky)

Of all the "name" guys on the mid-Eighties teams, Laudner is the one I remember the least. Maybe he was an exciting player to watch when he first hit the big club, I don't know. Maybe his all-or-nothing, feast-or-famine approach at the plate seemed fresh before it was remixed by DJ Torii.

To me, a great baseball card of Laudner would feature an action of him smashing a piggy bank with a bat, complete with a donut weight. On the back would be his stat line from 1987 and a picture of him holding $1.91 in nickels and pennies.

Oh, and the back of Laudner's '89 Score card begins with the following:

"Tim, who hits with some power but has not maintained a high average in recent years..."

His '90 Score card wasn't much better:

"Tim, a low-ball contact hitter..."

Torii Hunter – 2001 Fleer Tradition #282

The grainy photo is annoying, even on a “retro” card. The Impressionist depiction of Hunter bunting, though, is too much. I don't know about bunts for hits, but in his entire career Hunter has laid down excatly 2 sacrifice bunts (according to the Player Index at baseball-reference.com). An accurate depiction of Hunter as a player could involve many scenes, Impressionist in style or not: a stolen base attempt, a catcher-flattening, a piggy back ride from Barry. Maybe even an action sequence of Torii grounding into a double play. But a bunt?

David McCarty – 1995 Topps #098

"So anticipated was David's arrival in Minnesota that one radio station would play Handel's "Messiah" whenever announcers mentioned his name. Like many phenoms, he struggled initially, but his best is yet to come."

The Twins didn't get completely fleeced in the 1991 amateur draft. They drafted McCarty with the third overall pick, and I think almost immediately the hype began pouring out of the Twin Cities media. He apparently was a pretty good college player, and he hit quite well in the minors. But when it came time to play for the big club, he choked. I blame it on the batting right/throwing left fluke.

It could have been worse. The Yankees drafted Brien Taylor that year. But it could have been much better, too. The Cardinals had the #4 pick and drafted Dmitri Young (a shortstop in those days!). The Mariners picked up Shawn Estes at #11, the Red Sox snagged Aaron Sele with the 23rd pick overall. Toronto drafted Shawn Green with the 16th pick, and the Expos went with Cliff Floyd two earlier. Lucky Number 13? The Cleveland Indians with some kid named Manny.