Sweet Lou TTM, a Momentous First

William over at Foul Bunt scored a beautiful Lou Whitaker signed ball through the mail, and William graciously shared it with us (check out the awesomeness). Well, I commented, we got to talking, and he sent me Lou's TTM address. I had no idea how to go about the process, and William gave me a good run-down on the process. I've never done a TTM auto before, and Lou was a perfect first. Less than a week after I sent it out, I found my SASE in my mailbox.

I don't know how all of you go about picking cards for TTM, but '88 Fleer seemed like a good choice. All the brightness of this set lends itself well to ink. It gave Lou plenty of room to include his highlights: '78 ROY and '84 World Series Champion. Hey, Lou, you earned it, and I'm glad to see you showing it off on my baseball card. And, you have to love Lou's half-smirk on this card.

Maybe I'm a little greedy, but I thought I'd go for a double. I sent another card in the same envelope, which Lou also signed:

Another awesome TTM. I should also mention what a nice signature Lou has. I love the "L," how it loops and swoops to the "W." All very legible. Very cool stuff.

I doubt the likes of Lou actually read our blogs, but just in case: Thanks a bunch, Lou. You were one of the greatest heroes of my youth, and you're very generous with your time and ink. It's always so gratifying to find out your heroes are also stand-up guys.

But I shouldn't forget about Coot, right? I don't know if I can completely say Lou is my first TTM. Long ago, the son of Coot contacted me and very generously offered to get his dad to sign a card for me. You can read about that more here. Those Veals and Whitakers are some amazing families.

The Vealtones will now play this post out with my XRC TTM auto:

A Very Cooty Christmas

Merry Christmas to all you readers and bloggers out there. The Vealtones and I hope you have happy holidays and get lots of cardboard in your stockings.

A Work of Coot-Worthy Art

Dayf of Cardboard Junkie sent me a trade package with a bunch of great Cabreras, but I won't clutter up this post with those images. I mean, he sent great stuff, and I scanned it, and it's worthy of any trade post, but I just can't bring myself to inclue the pics. Sometimes a great work of art deserves to stand alone.



Dayf sketched this beauty for me. And it's a lovely interpretation of the first vintage card I ever owned, the reason why this blog is named as it is (you can read the origin tale here). I couldn't be more pysched to add this to my extensive Coot collection. 

But there's more. Like any proper baseball card, there's a back side.

Dayf opted to take artistic license and blow up the cartoon from the original back, which is everyone's favorite part of the back of a vintage Topps card. A beefy Coot accepts his giant trophy from the Monopoly guy for being elected to the '58 rookie all-start team. I really love this card back and this card all together.

If you want to learn about Dayf's process, check out his post on this Coot sketch.

Thanks, Dayf, for taking the time. This card is awesome and sits prominently now on my desk with my other favorite Coot card signed by the Coot and sent from the Son of Coot:

That's quite a pair of awesome Coot cards.

My Dream Card, Courtesy of Coot Veal and His #1 Vealtone

Not too long ago, I received an email from Rick Veal. That's right, son of the famed frontman of this very blog, Mr. Coot Veal himself, the Cootster. Rick got a kick out of the blog, and that made my day. I wonder how the hell he ever stumbled onto this thing. As Rick said, it's amazing how lore keeps popping up about the Coot. And that's something I've seen and loved about the blogosphere--that we bring back the lore of the lesser-known players featured on these scraps of vintage cardboard. That's why I love this hobby.

Rick read my first post about how this blog got its name, and he saw a big problem: I was missing one of Coot's cards. Well, Rick was not pleased with this gaping hole in my collection, so he decided to send this:

I'd been wanting this card for a long time, but it was a tough one to find a decent price on. It's one of those short-printed cards from the 1963 set, and being the cheapskate that I am, I've been waiting endlessly to stumble on a good deal or trade. I'm glad I waited. Rick came to my rescue and sent this card. I can't believe he was so generous to send this, with UPS tracking, no less. Rick, thanks a ton. You've gifted this blogger his holy grail.

You probably noticed that this is not your run-of-the-mill Coot card (though no Coot Veal card could ever be run-of-the-mill). Oh no. Rick had this one signed by Coot himself.

A fresh Coot auto, just for me. You can see a bit of marker streak on the V and A, and that's how you know it's fresh. Coot signed and then it went right into the penny sleeve. The Coot has a nice sig, one you can clearly read. I love that he signed "Coot" here, rather than Orville.

There are a lot of differences between the signatures of 1959 Orville and 2011 Coot. He has a steadier hand now, a confident flow, because now he's the Coot. I imagine young Orville trying to make this signature perfect. You can see a bit of quavering in the O. I sense young Orville's excitement. And wouldn't you be anxious? He's about to start the majors. He's signing his first real baseball card.

There's a bit more personality to this card:

Someone penciled in the number sign. Maybe it was Coot. Maybe it was a Vealtone. But definitely it's another thing that makes this card special. This part of the '63 design is so great, the big red bottom and the yellow bubble where we get a posed action pic Coot. It eats up a lot of card, but with true retro gusto in screaming primary colors. And check out that gigantic D on Coot's hat. When was the D ever that big? Also note the bulge in Coot's cheek. Was he a chaw chewer? Going for the Guinness record for biggest gum bubble?

Onto the back of a card that keeps getting better and better:

Coot may not have been a power hitter, but, as the always-cool comic shows, he was a hell of a fielder. According to the ol' Baseball-Reference.com, Coot had a lifetime fielding percentage of .976 as a shortstop. For comparison, Ripken had a career fielding percentage of .979. Not bad, Mr. Veal.

I also like that Coot had one home run in his whole major league career. One makes it special. One day like none other.

Lots of stories on one bit of cardboard. Thanks again, Rick, for sending the card. This is the new gem of my collection. It finishes off my Coot Veal player collection with a serious bang. I think that's it anyway. But the Coot pursuit will not end here, or ever. The Vealtones will jam on. Stay tuned for more encounters with the Coot.

I'm not Down

I haven't posted in a while, due to a crazy last few weeks at work. And just after this week closes, I'm approaching the end of the semester, which means final grades for the classes I teach and final seminar papers due for the classes I take. It's an endless cycle of busyness, and around this time I feel about ready to spontaneously combust. Or, better, to use a baseball card-related simile, I feel like this:

This has always been my favorite Frank Thomas card. My friends and I used to giggle about the pose here, what appears to be Frank the Tank scowling and flipping the bird. I still think he's flipping it, but logic tells me Upper Deck would have edited that out as quick as Billy Rip's bat. Frank just looks so damn mad here, and, thusly, represents my frustration. Thanks, Frank, for relating.

But I need to stop complaining. I love my job, even when it's stressful, even when my students just refuse to use the address comma when they're writing dialogue no matter how many times I explain. And it's been a good week of receiving trade packages, which I'll be posting soon. I've even been able to watch a few Tigers games, so life is good. Really, I thrive on being overwhelmed. Yeah, that's what I'll tell myself. I'm not down, right, Mr. Strummer?

Perhaps best and most exciting of all, I've had an encounter of the Veal variety.

I'm just going to mention a teaser here, but one of Coot's family members found the blog, and it looks like we might be getting some very cool Coot posts soon. Keep checking in, though my posting will be slow for a few more weeks.

First Post, or Why Coot Veal and the Vealtones Know How to Rock

This is my first post, my first tinkering into the baseball card blogosphere. I've been reading and commenting for a while now, and it's about time I contribute.

To get started, I thought I'd talk about the title of my blog. Why Coot Veal? you ask.

I grew up with a dad who owned a mom and pop record store called The Sound Depot. What's a mom and pop store? What's a record store? I'm not talking about Best Buy here. Before K-Mart and Wal-Mart moved to town and choked out small business, my dad's store was one of those artifacts of awesomeness from the '80s where cassettes and 45 singles and LP and eventually CDs filled the shelves. He stocked all the best music you never heard of and could order anything. In fact, he used to get crazy orders all the time. Often people would call and ask if he had so-and-so, and his favorite response was: "We don't have them, but we do have Coot Veal and the Vealtones." Now, I'm not sure why this was an effective business strategy, since I imagine he incited a gaped-mouth silence in his inquisitive customers. But my dad always had a good sense of humor, and when customers got his jokes, they stuck around.

On one occasion of my dad claiming he had Coot Veal and the Vealtones on vinyl, a caller surprised my dad, responding, "Coot Veal. Short stop for the Tigers in 1959." The caller came to the store to pick up his order a few weeks later and gave my dad this card.

My dad brought the card home to his pre-adolescent son, who had just started getting into the over-produced junk of the late '80s. When I saw this card, I was struck. I was hooked. Now, here was a baseball card. I thought I'd just won the lotto getting a card so old, and this card became the coolest thing I owned, just surpassing my 45 single of Weird Al's "Fat." I couldn't believe some stranger could be so nice to give a gem like this for free to some random record store dude. My dad was cool before this for being the pop culture epicenter of our small Midwestern town, but this turned my dad into a legend in my eyes.

As an older, wiser collector, I knows this card is pretty beat-up, but I still treasure it. It's the card that cemented my interests in baseball cards. The musty smell of aging cardboard, the old Tigers logo, Coot Veal gazing full of hope through a knothole of deep red--what kid wouldn't be thrilled.

Since I got back into trading a couple years ago and started trading with the baseball card blogosphere, this card has been upgraded. Steve from White Sox Cards sent me the upgrade, and a few other great Coots in my first blog trade ever.

There's another beauty. And again, like in my childhood, I couldn't believe someone would send a stranger such a cool card. Steve was very generous and hooked me on the kind and sagely online personalities of the blogosphere. He also sent this one:

Sweet, sweet 1962 oddball. A Post card rudely cut. I love it. And I love that Coot Veal only had one homerun in his whole career. It's just interesting to think about, how it would feel to have just one homerun. Sure, Barry has all those numbers, but does he remember any one of them like Coot remembers that one longball he barely squeaked over the wall? I'm glad you got one, Coot. I may be your biggest fan.

I'm still looking for Coot's 1963 Topps card, and then I think that's it. If you have it, we should trade. Or check out my want lists. I'm always up for trading. I might not have exactly what you're looking for, but I do have Coot Veal and the Vealtones.