John or Johnny Moses?


To get a memory, you need to give a memory.

In 2002, I sent a recollection to outfielder John Moses. Not an autograph request. Just a letter of thanks.

He rewarded me with an autographed card — and much more.

I attended several games in Seattle’s Kingdome in 1992. The former Twin had joined the Mariners. Or had he?

The first time I read his name on the scoreboard, I paused. JOHNNY Moses?

Was this his idea? Did the M’s think a new start needed a new name? I suspected that someone might have thought a younger first name might add some speed or vigor to a veteran’s comeback.

I didn’t want to accuse Moses or the team of some sneaky plot. After all, I noted that my Aunt Bernice refused to call me “Tom.” Although I endured being called “Tommy,” I still felt like a Tommy at age 41.

Moses wrote back!

“Tom —

Don’t worry. My Mom called me ‘Johnny’ for 47 years now. And it has never bothered me. I was always known as ‘Johnny Mo’ around the baseball field.

Remember the great names:

Johnny Bench
Tommy Davis
Johnny Pesky
Tommy Helms

also

JOHNNY Moses

Take care.

Sincerely,
Johnny Moses”

As proof of his dual identity, he signed his 1991 Score “John” card “Johnny Moses.”

Cheers for a Father-Son Hobby Team


One of my favorite hobby stops is the Autograph Addict.

This site is the collaboration of father-and-son collectors Kyle and Tyler Smego. You might spot them at Camden Yards as many as 30 games a year.

Through the mail, they’re collecting memories.

In January, the Smegos posted 40 questionnaire responses, saying they had a couple hundred more. What’s the current count?

“I try to get these online as quickly as I receive them, but it’s hard to keep up,” Kyle said. “I still have, at least, a couple hundred more that are waiting to be posted. It seems like we get around 10-15 back every month though. In the past we have tried to send the same questionnaire out to all the players (Tyler made up the questions. We try to keep it questions that the players can quickly jot down an answer.”

These “autograph addicts” are gleaning great insights from baseball history makers. Pitching coach Ray Rippelmeyer talked about teaching Steve Carlton the slider. We all know how that experiment turned out.

“Ray was one of the longest letters we have received, but not the longest,” Kyle said. “We have received many responses where the player filled out our questionnaire and wrote a letter. Some of the longer responses include: Rippelmeyer, Duane Pillette, Bobby Shantz, Jake Gibbs, Ernie Broglio, Don Ferrarese, etc….even Phil Niekro and Tony Kubek. All of those guys wrote a page or two or three.”

The Smegos’ best-ever response?

“Our longest correspondence however has been with Ken Retzer,” Kyle said. “I saw that you blogged about him this week. He really is a great guy. He likes to tell stories about his playing days with the Senators, catching JFK, his family, and his business ventures. Over the past year he has sent several letters and included some neat items each time. One time he sent a copy of an old menu from his diner that he used to own (Home Plate), a couple of pictures of his family, some additional pictures of him with JFK, copies of all his baseball cards, etc. He plans on coming out to the DC area sometime soon and I look forward to taking him out to dinner.”

Kyle and Tyler are making the hobby their own. They’ve asked for suggestions for other fun questions they can be asking. Ask someone about what they think of when they see the photo on a certain baseball card.

More than 30 years ago, Twins infielder rolled his eyes and grinned while signing his SSPC “Pure” card. I asked him if he liked that card.

“I think they took photos on the hottest day of spring training right after wind sprints,” I seem to remember Terrell saying. “Look at how sweaty we look. Look at the other Twins cards, and you’ll see what I mean.”

What fun questions do you ask when you write a former player?

Nobel Peace Prize for Pat Neshek!


“On the Road With Pat Neshek” is an autograph collector’s dream come true.
This NESHEK NATION blog is like getting a letter from a player every day.

This isn’t just golly-gee tales of being a major leaguer. Sure, he serves
up tidbits any Minnesota Twins fan would savor. But this isn’t common fan fare.

Neshek is pitching for us. For the hobby!

He’s asking the hard questions of his teammates. Would they sell their
own autographs on ebay if the sigs were going for $50? What would they
do with a letter that had 20 cards in it to be signed?

I see Neshek as a great autograph ambassador. On his homepage, he
offers to sign for anyone who encloses a SASE. No limits. Then, he reviews new card sets. He talks about busting packs. He is a fellow collector who celebrates the hobby wins of others. His spirit has to catch on with other players.

Don’t miss this blog. Better yet, send him a note of thanks. Too many collectors complain about the scribblers, the greedy and the non-signers. Take a break and encourage one of baseball’s best hobby role models.

Herb Plews, Diplomatic Senator



Herb Plews last played in the majors in 1959. However, even at age 81, no one will sneak a pitch past him.

I sent the retired infielder a couple of questions. I printed out a piece of stationery reading, “Herb Plews, Major League Infielder, 1956-59.”

Herb chose to use the back of my letter for a reply. He did supply me with a major league effort filled with humility, humor and insight.

“Had to laugh at the heading for the stationery. using that might indicate a bloating between the ears,” he began.

Anyone thinking Plews faked his way through four seasons in the bigs should think again. SABR member Bill Nowlin, a Boston Red Sox expert, wrote an impressive, well-researched biography on the Montana native who logged a brief stay with the 1959 BoSox.

Boston acquired Plews just weeks before the arrival of “Pumpsie” Green, the man who helped the last team take down baseball’s color barrier. At my time of writing, I didn’t know the whole story. Plews wrote:

“I wasn’t with Boston when Pumpsie arrived. Bill Jurges, who was a coach with the Senators when I was there, became manager, replacing Mike Huggins. Jurges and I never did see eye to eye, so when he arrived, it was my time to take a hike. That ended my major league days.”

Plews chose not to spell out the 1959 specifics: his demotion to the minors cleared the roster spot needed for Green’s arrival.

From the fantastic archives of www.retrosheet.org, I found that Plews tallied FIVE four-hit games during his career. He reflected on one:

“One of those games was against the Yankees with Turley pitching. They were all doubles. Trying to stretch the last one, I was thrown out at third! Jurges threw a hissy!”

Plews could have joined the roster of retirees bitter at their bad breaks in baseball. He was saddled with the struggling Senators, then failed to get a real chance with the contending Red Sox. Instead, he reflected:

“Looking back, I would have been better off staying with the Senators. Billy Consolo (included in the trade from Boston) got in a couple extra years with the Senators. I missed my pension by a couple months.

“However, Tom, I felt lucky to have played when I did. I saw some of the best players ever. Looking forward to another exciting season of baseball. Continue your loyalty for our grand ol’ game.

My best regards always,

Herb Plews

P.S. (noting my return address) That little school from Iowa (UNI) sure spoiled my bracket!

Happy Easter, Dave Heaverlo!

In my mind, I see his shining dome every year before the holiday.

Dave Heaverlo tipped his cap for an April installment of Saturday Game of the Week.

One of the first players I remembered who shaved his head for
fashion sake, Heaverlo spotted the TV camera. His grin grew
as he uncapped his head:

HAPPY EASTER

The magic-markered message glistened on his naked noggin.

In the early 1990s, I lived in Washington state. At the Puyallup
Flea Market, Heaverlo was a free autograph guest.

All I had was an index card. I got a “Best Wishes” inscription.

“Do you remember being on TV, having ‘Happy Easter’ written
on your head, under your cap?” I asked.

He smiled politely. “Someone else asked me. I think I remember
something like that,” was his vague reply.

At the time, I knew nothing of the raucous reliever’s reputation
during his seven-year career. Even though he began his career in
the bigs with hair, Heaverlo found infamy early in Oakland.

All I know is that I peeked at his still-hairless head that day. I saw no message. Not even a “Rent This Space.”

So, in the spirit of Dave Heaverlo, I tip my cap to all you.

Happy Easter!