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As I guess I’ve mentioned before, I somehow never got Rod Carew’s baseball card growing up. A couple months ago a reader of this blog, Brent Topping, read that this was so and kindly decided to rectify the situation. Since then I’ve tried and failed to shape my reverence for the inimitable style and astounding results of the man pictured here. Thinking about Rod Carew, trying to come up with something to say, I find I’m overpowered by the pitch.
Rod Carew was never overpowered by a pitch. Whatever it was, wherever it was aimed, whatever its nasty spin or ungodly hop, he adjusted, flipping the power of the pitch on its ass with the brevity and grace of a martial arts master. Is there any doubt that the plan the catcher pictured here and his unseen battery mate have concocted to foil Carew will fail? Carew will wait in his coiled yet serene praying mantis stance until the very last moment, then use his lightning-quick wrists to strike, lacing the pitch into some unguarded patch of the grass.
Who was a more constant part of my internal life when I was a child than Rod Carew? He was always there, at the top of the Sunday averages, the list that meant more to me than any religion. The greatest day of every summer was when my brother and I got to stay up past our bedtime to watch the entire all-star game, and Rod Carew was always among the sparkling selections. Since he had been an all-star before I was born, it seemed to me that he had always been an all-star.
It seemed as the years continued to roll by that he somehow would always be an all-star. But in 1985 an all-star game was finally played without him. I was seventeen that summer. I had a freshly earned GED, a job pumping gas, and no plans for the future. What was I supposed to do? Leaving childhood is like having a hole in your swing that continues to get bigger and bigger. The alarming absence in the midsummer classic of Rodney Cline Carew, the owner of a swing with no holes, was the last stage of erosion. How am I supposed to hit when I'm more hole than swing?
From what I understand they don't need any European stock donors as I understand they have a 100% chance of finding a match if your European, but your chances are hard if you are Asian or Black as not enough people from these races have signed up.
That is what I've been told by people who administer these program, so I can't say if that is true or not.
"[Carew's daughter's] rare Panamanian-Jewish heritage dramatically lowered [the] possibility of finding a matching donor for a bone marrow transplant."
Not much. The only day game the Twinkies played in Balty in '78 was May 7th. They won 15-9. Carew came to bat six times. He batted in each of the first three innings, walking, hitting a sac fly, and singling. He'd later walk again, and single again. His only unproductive at bat was a strike out in the eighth.
Judging by the lack of wear and tear on the uniform in a game with so much early action, and by the fact that at least in my mind, I picture baseball card photographers shooting as soon as they can in a game, usually leading to early-game shots, I'd guess this was one of the early, successful at bats. (The first two were against Palmer, the third against ill-fated future Red Sox manager Joe Kerrigan.) The catcher is definitely Dempsey, though.
Oh, and I have discovered that Topps definitely would at times use a picture from two years before instead of one. But Carew didn't play in any Min @ Bal day games in '77, so I think it's safe to say this 1979 card's pic is from 5/7/78. But I could be wrong.
Was there an immensely watchable contact hitter, a star of that caliber, preceding Rod Carew? At least within living memory...cause Wee Willie Keeler was probably a blast to watch but I don't think he can be compared to Carew, Gwynn, and Ichiro.
9 : I also remember Carew doing well with the voters. I think his batting average had him rated really high in people's minds while he was playing, plus the fact that he was just really cool. Rod Carew! Some stars of that time sweated and grunted (Pete Rose), others bellowed and preened (Reggie), and others smiled and campaigned (Steve Garvey). But Rod Carew, man, he just hit.
Now I wonder if he's actually become a little underrated.
How am I supposed to hit when I'm more hole than swing?
Josh, sometimes you're just too damn tough on yourself, although that's probably a part of what makes your work so great. Thanks.
2 memories. Carew swallowed his chaw in one all-star game and looked about as ill as man can get. Also, I loved watching him bunt more than any other player, as he would hold the bat like he was swinging away and control the ball like his stick was a magic wand.
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