5 Catcher Cards that Changed the World

Even if they don't *look* like catcher cards

So, I just happened to notice the other day that Terry Kennedy, Tony Peña, and Rich Wilkins all have birthdays today (June 4th, that is).

Getting such useful nuggets lodged in your caruncles and brain folds just goes with the territory of having your head jammed into horsehide memories and numbers and musings all the time.

So, why waste the moment?

So I won’t.

In honor of those three catchers up there who all played a part in some solid collecting moments …

Here are 5 catcher cards that aren’t 1976 Topps Johnny Bench great, but that mean a lot to me, anyway.

1974 Topps Joe Ferguson (#86)

This Ferguson wasn’t the first “old” card I ever owned, or even the first 1974 Topps card I ever owned.

But it was among the first, coming along for the ride as part of some junk shop buy or another in the mid-1980s.

Truthfully, the ‘74s (and ‘73s) have always sort of been downers for me, what with all the dingy photos and drippy facial hair that reminds me of some pretty tight times in my family.

But this one was always pretty cool, thanks to the horizontal format.

And to Fergurson stomping toward that other dude telling him to get out of the frame.

And to Joe Ferguson actually being the Buffalo Bills quarterback, and not a Los Angeles Dodgers catcher, as far as I knew.

1983 Topps John Wathan Record Breaker (#6)

This card doesn’t really scream “catcher” at all, other than the fact that it actually has the word “Catcher” — capital “C” and all — right there on the card front.

I actually thought Wathan was a manager the first time I saw this card, which was either prophetic, self-fulfilling, coincidental, or nothing at all.

But, of course, what really made my Stat Signal snap to life was that Wathan had stolen 31 bases as a catcher in 1982.

As far as I knew, catchers looked like Alex Trevino and Alan Knicely and could run just as fast in their full Boba Fett gear as they could without it.

By comparison, it seemed like Wathan might be better off to try and outrun a would-be base-stealer than trying to gun him down from the plate.

1984 Topps Darryl Cias (#159)

This card was special because it was a rookie card in the first set that I bought in bulk. And, by “bulk,” I mean I opened enough packs and chewed enough gum for my dentist to finally pay off his 1976 Saab.

Rookie cards were already gold, and they became platinum that summer of 1984, thanks to Don Mattingly.

Plus, this card looked awesome, though I thought Cias was taking a helluva chance with his grill.

Must’ve been a hockey player in another life.

1986 Topps Bo Diaz (#639)

Like Dave Parker and Buddy Bell and Cesar Cedeno, Bo Diaz was one of the out-of-towners who helped turn around the Reds in a hurry in the mid-1980s.

This was the guy I watched help lead the Phillies all the way to the jaws of the Baltimore Shredder in the 1983 World Series, after all.

It was my first baseball October, and it was golden and magical, even if the games were blah.

And all of the sudden, here was this diamond god toiling for my Reds. I couldn’t figure out why Diaz wasn’t out there every night, and this dramatic card made me only more firm in my conviction that he should have been.

Now, it tugs at the heartstrings for all sorts of reasons.

1987 Donruss Benito Santiago Rated Rookie (#31)

This card turned out to be everything I thought 1984 Topps Darryl Cias would be, and then some.

Indeed, Santiago’s Rated Rookie beauty was one of the hobby leaders coming out of Spring Training in 1987, before Mark McGwire was inducted as a Bash Brother.

The Padres’ young catcher came with a lot of hype, and he pretty much lived up to it all, right off the bat — 18 home runs, 21 stolen bases, 34-game hitting streak, National League Rookie of the Year Award.

He was just as good or even better in 1988, then not quite as good for another 18 seasons.

This card was amazing the whole way. Still is.

—

If these cards don’t knock your socks off, well, that’s probably because you had to be there to see their formative years.

Because, let me tell you, Strawberry wasn’t the only cardboard Darryl who made hearts pop sliding out of packs in 1984.

And no matter how you feel about him, Bo Diaz’s helmet still carries a torch for you across the ages, even all these years later.

Until next time, go show your favorite catcher card some love. Even if it looks like a manager card or a quarterback card.

Thanks for reading.

—Adam