5 Baseball Cards You've Been Saying Wrong
There Oddibe a law against some of these pronunciations!
Don Aase turns 70 years old today.
You’re reading this, so that probably means you realize that Aase was a pretty darn good reliever for a decade-ish after he was a mediocre starter for a couple of years.
And you probably also realize that Aase is pronounced AH-see.
But…
You probably didn’t know any of that the first time you encountered Aase. And if you were a kid then, like I was, you might have had some creative pronunciation possibilities run through your head.
I mean, come on. If not, you were probably either an adult when Aase debuted or just not very much fun (i.e., juvenile) in general.
Whatever. I won’t judge you if you claim to have known how to pronounce Aase’s last name right off the bat, or if you didn’t have some fun with it in your head.
But I will subject you to five baseball cards of last names that you probably pronounced wrong for a good long while. I know I did.
(And, while I won’t mention any names, I know someone who recently had some fun learning about Craig Biggio.)
1975 Topps Bruce Bochte (#392)
Part of the issue with Bochte’s last name is that his career overlapped Bruce Bochy’s by nine big league seasons. Trying to figure out how to say either name when you pulled his card in the company of friends was an opportunity to embarrass yourself.
Except, you know, nobody else in your circles knew the difference, either. At least not in my circles.
Forget trying to sort out their on-field accomplishments back when cards were pretty much the only time we saw or heard of these guys. Heck, there were times I’m sure I didn’t even realize there were two Bruce Bochte/Bochy characters in the big leagues.
Thankfully, Bruce Bochy turned a long catching career into an even longer and more successful managerial career, which made his name something of a household name.
So now all we have to do is remember that Bochte’s last name is sort of the opposite of Bochy’s — short “o”, hard “k” instead of long “o”, hard “ch.”
BOCK-tee v. BO-chee.
1979 Topps Don Aase (#368)
Aase’s career was actually pretty remarkable, starting as a 17-year-old draft pick in 1972, spanning six minor league seasons for the Red Sox, and featuring stints as a starter, swing man, closer, and long reliever.
Heck, he even brought Jerry Remy to Boston when the Angels traded the future Red Sox favorite to land Aase after a solid rookie season in the rotation in 1977. By the time I encountered Aase on my 1981 baseball cards, he was transitioning to full-time relief duty for the Angels.
That’s his first solo card up there, though he did land on one of those four-man rookie cards in 1978. That one showed him with the Red Sox, smiling about his lot in life.
And, just maybe, about the havoc his last name was about to play at dinner tables across New England.
1981 Topps Joe Lefebvre (#88)
From 1965 through 1972, Jim Lefebvre patrolled the infield for the Los Angeles Dodgers, winning Rookie of the Year honors that first year and becoming an All-Star for the only time in 1966.
Lefebvre then embarked on a long coaching and managerial career that featured stops all across the country. Along the way, he became pretty well known, and baseball fans everywhere could say luh-FEE-ver.
Between Lefebvre’s last at-bat and his first gig as a major league manager in 1989 (Mariners), though, Joe Lefebvre showed up in the Yankees outfield in 1980.
The next spring, the first Joe luh-FEE-ver baseball cards showed up, like his 1981 Topps rookie card up there.
Except…
That’s not a Joe luh-FEE-ver rookie card.
It’s a Joe luh-FAY rookie card.
After spending his 1980 rookie season with the Yankees and even making an appearance in the ALCS, Lefebvre was off to the Padres as part of a big trade at the end of Spring Training in 1981.
Lefebvre also spent time with the Phillies before hanging up his spikes in 1986 to enter the coaching ranks, just as Lefebvre had done.
1986 Topps Ozzie Guillen (#254)
I know you think you have this one in the bag, but you probably don’t.
The “standard” way to pronounce “Guillen” in baseball circles is gee-YEN (hard “g”). But Ozzie made it clear to broadcasters early in his career that his last name is gee-JHEN or even gee-JEN for American tongues that struggle with the softish “j” sound.
Whenever Ozzie would appear in a national broadcast, like on the Game of the Week, said announcers would often repeat that information. And even when they didn’t, they tended to pronounce it correctly:
Of course, we humans can be pretty lazy with language, and hardly anybody seemed to pick up on this pronunciation. I remember arguing with dealers at card shows in 1986 or so.
Eventually, I stopped arguing. Seems like Ozzie did, too. Well, at least about the pronunciation of his last name among the masses.
No doubt he’d still take issue with me on any number of other topics.
1988 Topps Joe Boever (#627)
I barely remember Joe Boever, which is one of the reasons I really enjoy digging into the dusty old stacks of baseball history — there’s always something new to learn.
Always “new” faces and names to learn about, too.
In Boever’s case, it’s sort of shocking to discover that he pitched in the majors for parts of 12 seasons, from 1985 through 1996. I guess my excuse for letting him fall through the cracks is that his rookie cards didn’t show up until 1988. I had other things on my mind by then, so if you weren’t Gregg Jefferies or Gary Thurman or Kevin Elster, I probably didn’t have time for you.
Plus, Boever played for the Braves in the late 1980s, which was sort of like rocking out your MySpace page in 2024.
Anyway, on to that last name…
Boever may have gotten “over” on his share of batters, but there was no rhyme to be had there.
And when he played for Edmonton, Boever didn’t need to worry that his fellow Trappers would come after his “beaver” pelt.
But if the man ever decides to go into a certain arm of the landscaping biz, he has a ready-made name: “Boever’s Pavers.”
All of which raises the question: if Boever is BAY-ver, is his first name really JAY??
—
Alright, your turn.
What are some ballplayer names you pronounced one way for years, even if just in your head, only to find out down the line that actually had a different ring to them?
I’m sure there are more than a few player names I still get wrong, so you’d be doing me a service by admitting your own oversights.
Just don’t get me started on song lyrics. Those can be totally da henna now.
Thanks for reading.
—Adam
Boever the saver!
Aase. I was fascinated by his name when I was younger. That ‘86 season he was awesome. As a kid and to this day I still get Tom Paciorek along with Dave and Gary Rajsich wrong. Harvey Kuenn was another. Doug Mientkiewicz was one more that springs to mind.