Rick Cerone 1990 Fleer

On March 6, 2018 I received this card from the Baseball Card Bandit (BCB):

On Facebook, I wrote: A few weeks ago the BCB sent another card. This is of former Red Sox catcher, Rick Cerone. 

Cerone was a backstop who bounced around — he was on eight different teams. You might remember him from his years as a Yankee — he wore pinstripes three different times. By the time he came to Boston, he was nearing the end of his career. 

2019 Notes: Cerone was a member of (in order) the Indians, Blue Jays, Yankees, Braves, Brewers, Yankees (again), Red Sox, Yankees (one more time), Mets and Expos. For some reason I think it's funny thinking of Rick Cerone trying to navigate the streets of Montreal as very funny. I'm sure he's an erudite and sophisticated dude in real life, but he always looked like a doofus Staten Island longshoreman. "Yeah, hey Frenchy, how the fuck do I get to the fucking Olympic Stadium?I gotta fucking game today, asshole. Fucking speak American, fucko. Jesus fucking Christ, this place sucks. Can't even get good gabbagool here. Fughadaboutit."

He probably never said that, but a boy can dream!

Cerone didn’t hit much but by the end of the 80s, the Sox were kinda screwed when it came to catchers. John Marzano (RIP) never panned out, Rich German forgot how to hit and you’d never find a more text book case of nepotism than Marc Sullivan. 

2019:  you guys, I am really quite bitter towards Marc Sullivan. 

So when a dude gets released by your rival, can hit .240 and plays okay defense, I suppose in this case, you have to sign him. That pretty pathetic production would, unfortunately, help that team. So the Sox did just that. 

Like I said, Cerone didn’t make much of an impression on the field, but he did make an impact off. In a Cleveland (or Detroit, I forget which one exactly) hotel lobby Cerone and Dwight Evans got into a fistfight. I don’t recall why or who won, but fighting Dewey? Seriously? Go back to the Yankees, you jackass. 

And guess what, he did just that in 1990 after the Sox signed Tony Pena in the offseason -- who took his number six (since retired for Johnny Pesky).

2019: I don't believe in those "embedded rivals from another team" stories. They're dumb and they're lazy and they're just not true. People used to say it about former Sox and Yankees reliever Ramiro Mendoza all the time. And I know that it was supposed to be fun, but I think after awhile people began to believe it. "Cashman let Mendoza go so that he could sign with the Red Sox and ruin the team from within. How else can you explain why he sucks so bad?"

So went the logic in the summer of 2004. 

It's not remotely true. Professional athletes are Hessians who play for any team that will pay them and allow them the most playing time. Once you sign your professional contract, those feelings are out the door*.

* It's why when people use "evidence" like, "Here's a picture of player X wearing a Yankees jersey when he was a kid, I just know that he's coming to the Bronx!" Yeah, lots of kids wore Yankees gear when they were kids. If the Houston Astros offered a penny more, they'd be an Astro. No one is going to turn down money because they really, really liked a team when they were 12-years-old. I'm sure that kid used to love Dunkeroos too.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that while there's a lot of lip service, for the most part, athletes see themselves as ballplayers rather than a Ranger or a Laker or a Giant. Yes, there are some very rare exceptions (Tom Brady, Derek Jeter to name a few) but that's just how it goes. No matter what we want to believe, players just don't have the same emotional connection to the team they play for that we as fans do. They just don't. 

Like everything in life, there are exceptions. 

Rick Cerone never looked the part of a Red Sox. With that black mustache and cocky demeanor. he looked as if he just arrived off a commuter boat from Staten Island. He always looked annoyed that he was in a uniform without pinstripes. And while I don't think that many players particularly care which city they find themselves in, Cerone really seemed to. He was born in Newark, NJ, went to Seton Hall and played for the Yankees three different times and the Mets once. He was the team's catcher after Thurman Munson wrecked his plane and even after he retired, settled close to Manhattan, worked for the WPIX and eventually founded the minor league Newark Bears. 

As a Red Sox, he didn't do much. He platooned with Gedman in 1988 and according to Wikipedia, never got into a game in that season's ALCS. That really must have pissed him off -- I know that I'd be mad. He ended up playing for 18 seasons, made it to the World Series once (a 1981 loss to the Dodgers) and spent a bulk of his career with his favorite team. 

I would bet that if you asked 12-year-old Rick Cerone what he wanted out of his life, I bet the answer would be, "I want to fucking play catcher for the fucking New York fucking Yankees." Well, congratulations young Rick, you got your wish.