No, this isn’t an article about Ted Williams hitting .406 in 1941. It’s not about his batting .400 and .407 in his war-shortened 1952 and 1953 seasons. Wade Boggs is the last .400 hitter since Ted Williams retired in 1960. But wasn’t Boggs’ highest single season batting average “just” .368? Aren’t the closest approaches to .400 George Brett’s .390 in 1980 and Tony Gwynn’s .394 from 1994?
Sometimes you have to round upwards to claim ownership of a single baseball card. That is certainly the case with the first 1952 high number entering my collection.
The career 300/300 ballplayer quietly had a very impressive decade in the 1990s.
Baseball returned to a famous cornfield in Iowa, complete with a fantastic back and forth game.
Two wars blasted a six-season hole in the career of Ted Williams. What happens to comparisons against the game’s greatest hitters the same amount of time was erased from their stat lines?
Bill Kennedy gets overlooked when baseball fans discuss the greatest strikeout pitchers.
“The Major” didn’t earn the MVP, an All-Star nod, or even a regular spot in the lineup. He was, however, decorated with a Silver Star and Purple Heart.
The winning pitcher of Nolan Ryan’s final game now teaches elementary school. He also appears on an alarmingly green refractor card.
Phil Masi appears in the 1952 Topps set in his final card as a player. His stats show a solidly average major-leaguer and he carried a reputation as an excellent catcher and battery mate. Unusually fast for a catcher, he was used on occasion as a pinch runner. I imagine young Indians fans cursing under their breath as they pulled a Masi card from a pack while Braves fans smirked under similar circumstances. Why would the card of the White Sox backstop engender such a reaction?
