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. 

Carlton Fisk 1990 Upper Deck

On January 29, 2017 I received this card from the Baseball Card Bandit (BCB):

2019 Notes: Fisk looks really regal in this shot, huh? Like something happened and he's about to put an end to it. Maybe he's going to fight Deion Sanders for drawing a dollar sign in the dirt every time he comes to the plate? Who knows what this red ass will do!

On Facebook, I wrote: Yesterday I received another BCB card, this time it was from Austin, TX and it was of Hall of Famer Carlton Fisk. 

The greatest catcher the Red Sox and New England ever produced, Pudge Fisk was unceremoniously told to leave because the Boston front office was both cheap and inept. 

Fisk literally changed his sox, going to Chicago and tormenting the AL for another decade plus. And he usually saved his best games to beat his old team. I remember being at a game where Eric Hetzel was dominating the Pale Hose, but the Red Sox couldn't score a run. In the eighth inning he left a ball up in the zone and Fisk hit it to Cambridge. Final score 1-0, Chicago. 

Durable as hell, Fisk also is one of a handful of players to see MLB action in four decades. In short, screw you Haywood Sullivan for letting Fisk go and trying to replace him with your banjo hitting kid.

2019: There's not a hell of a lot that I can add to this entry. I mean there is, but if you know anything about baseball in the last 30 years, there's nothing more than I can add. Carlton Fisk was beloved in New England because he was one of us (born in New Hampshire, grew up in Vermont) and he represented what we all want to be. Fisk was a hard working, no shit taking, tough-ass Hall of Famer who was not only great day in and day out playing the roughest and most cerebral position on the field but rose to the occasion during the big moments (see Game 6, 1975 World Series). 

No matter what we do, we'd all like to think that we're the Carlton Fisk of our jobs. Deep down you know whether that's true or not*.

* It's funny, my dad coached my brother's Little League team and the parent of the worst kid on the team used to call my father after every game and yell at him over the (perceived) lack of playing time the kid got -- BTW, this kid did not like baseball at all. The one thing he'd say to my dad practically every time was, "You're making a mistake [redacted] is the next Carlton Fisk! He should play more!" Even almost a decade after Fisk left Boston and was slinking into the decline of his career, people were using him as the example of greatness. That's how transcendent Fisk was. 

In any event when Fisk left, Red Sox fans were pissed. They were pissed when Lynn and Burleson and Tiant and Lee were all shipped out of town; but they were really mad when Fisk packed up and went to Chicago. And when the Sox said it was a mail snafu, fans were doubly angry. It never should have got to that point, they screamed. And they were right. Haywood Sullivan was a shitty owner and his kid, Marc was an even shittier catcher. I guess it's wrong to blame Marc Sullivan for his spot on the Red Sox roster -- what would you have done? -- but if there was ever a human avatar for the bumbling of the Red Sox front office in the 1980s, it was him. 

Anyway, time heals most wounds and Fisk came back to the Red Sox and has worked with the team in some nebulous front office position. It's kind of how he got his 27 retired. Even though I got into baseball five years after Fisk changed socks and all I knew him was a Chicago guy, I like Carlton Fisk on the Red Sox.