If you need to sum up outfielder Gil Coan in a single word it would be “speed.” Before the Washington Nationals entertained fans with presidential mascots running footraces, one of their predecessor teams was sending Coan out to run laps against track stars. He even raced a horse (and won!) from right field to home plate. Perhaps the fact that he was missing one of his thumbs made him more aerodynamic.
Sam Zoldak was a big league pitcher whose abilities seemed to be just a hair above average. There’s not a lot to write about when a player shows up and just does his job competently. There are, however, two small items from his story that make me take notice.
The world came oh so close to getting a ’52 Topps card with an image of a pitcher wearing sunglasses.
Before St. Louis’ hometown actor played an oblivious himbo on 30 Rock, the city had its own version on the mound with the Veeck-era Browns.
If you find yourself in the top 1% of your profession, you are almost certainly doing well in your chosen field. Indeed, being ranked in the top 5% likely indicates a similar measure of skill. The top 10, 20, or even 50th percentile may imply some level of success. This does not quite hold true in baseball.
Hi De Hi De Ho! The first written use of the word “jazz” was used in describing a baseball game. It’s probably not a coincidence that the swing bands of the 1930s had enough musicians to field a team.
The many roles (and baseball cards) of unexpected OBP machine Wes Westrum.
I came across an odd story involving New York Giant Hank Thompson, a baseball bat, and a cab driver who elected to travel by foot.
An exploration of what cards were available to collectors when Topps’ giant sized cards hit the shelves in 1952. It’s not just Bowman.
