1976 Topps World Series (Game 7)

So near, but so far. What impressed me about the '75 Reds was how they bounced back after such a devastating Game 6 loss, when they could have easily folded, much like the '86 Sox or '91 Braves or '13 Spurs. OK, the Braves one might be a little unfair, but still: most teams that suffer a dramatic Game 6 defeat lose Game 7.

And while the Red Sox lost, there was such an incredible feeling of optimism, as anyone who has read Peter Gammons' book/bible "Beyond the Sixth Game" knows. With all that young talent, they were going to be back again and again, right? But of course, as the book says at the end, "tomorrow never came." 

1976 Topps World Series (Game 6)

Really, what more can I add about this game that you don't already know? It's Game 6, it's Carlton Fisk, it's the church bells ringing in Charlestown, N.H. Is there anything profound or thought-provoking I can provide to the discussion? No. So sit back and enjoy the moment!

2010 Topps Heritage Anthony Rizzo

We're going to take a break from our '75 World Series retrospecticus, as the real '75 Series endured an off-day and three straight rainouts. 

Oh, this card breaks my heart. I see this creation and visions of Bart Giamatti's "The Green Fields of the Mind" sling through my head. I see this and I feel like a high schooler dumped at his prom. 

One of the reasons for the Red Sox' post-2007 decline is their lack of long-term thinking. WE-MUST-WIN-NOW!!! This despite three World Series titles, which you think would buy some patience from the Nation. 

And promising young players such as David Murphy, Jose Igleseas, Hanley Ramirez and Justin Masterson are thoughtlessly dumped for the latest shiny object. (Of course, Ramirez and Masterson returned to the Sox after they ceased to be of any use anywhere else.) 

To that list we can add Mr. Rizzo, who was shipped to the Padres as part of the Adrian Gonzalez debacle in 2011 after a decent-but-promising .263/.334/.481 slash at Portland. What's mind-blowing, of course, is that the Padres dumped Rizzo to the Cubs after one year despite a .331/.404/.652 slash in Triple-A. Well, the Padres haven't done much the last few years, either. (Andrew Cashner, who went to the Padres for Rizzo, was 6-16, 4.34 for San Diego this year. Oops.) 

Yeah, I know the Sox have won three World Series titles and I have no right to complain. But it's like looking at the career stats of Ted Williams or Junior Griffey. They're great, but you also wonder what might have been. Think about that when you see Han-Ram butchering the baseball at first base next year at Fenway while Rizzo challenges for a Triple Crown at Wrigley.

1976 Topps World Series (Game 5)

Tony Perez, who had been 0-for-15 through the first four games of the 1975 World Series, couldn't be held silent any longer, as blasted two homers and put the Red Sox on the brink (just as the card above says).

Perez is, I believe, one of two members of the '75 Reds who went on to play for the Red Sox (Jack Billingham was the other). His election to the Hall of Fame in 2000 was not met with universal praise, as he was considered a guy who piled up tons of RBIs and benefitted from the great table-setters in front of him in the batting order (Rose, Morgan). Baseball-reference's JAWS leaders has Doggie ranked as the 27th-best first baseman of all time, behind the likes of Keith Hernandez, John Olerud and Will Clark, who are more likely to be inducted into the Hall of Pretty Darn Good than Cooperstown any time soon. 

Still, being a fondly remembered member of a great team isn't too shabby, even if it shouldn't automatically make you a hall of famer.

In five days: Game 6. You might have heard about this one.

1976 Topps World Series (Game 4)

Pitch counts weren't a big deal in the 1970s, but even the most grizzled fans were impressed by Luis Tiant's 163-pitch, complete-game effort as the Red Sox evened the '75 series at two games apiece.

Remember what I said in my Game 1 post about baseball card magazine writers complaining about how 1980s-90s baseball wasn't what it was in the 1950s-60s? For fans who grew up on '70s baseball, this is one of their smoking guns when they complain about how today's baseball isn't what it used to be. Let's face it: Some pitchers' arms are indestructible, and others' will fall off at the slightest wear and tear. And pitch count or not, Luis Tiant  (who was allegedly 34 during the series) had a bionic arm.

Tomorrow: Game 5.

1976 Topps World Series (Game 3)

Ah, the Ed Armbrister interference game, which overshadowed the Red Sox' rally from a 5-1 deficit, highlighted by Dwight Evans' game-tying, two-run ninth-inning homer. You can read the gory details here.

For what it's worth, Bob Montgomery, longtime Red Sox backup catcher and color analyst of my youth, always thought home plate umpire Larry Barnett made the right call. He might be the only one in New England who feels that way. I wish I had a copy, but the New York Daily News' back page the next day said it was the wrong call. Can you imagine a New York paper criticizing a bad call against a Boston team now?

Tomorrow: Game 5.

1976 Topps World Series (Game 2)

We're continuing along with our '76 Topps World Series set, with each card posted on the 40th anniversary of that day's '75 World Series game.

In Game 2, the Red Sox led 2-1 before the Reds scored two runs off Sox starter Bill Lee (did someone check the pitch count?) and reliever Dick Drago. In the card above, Dave Concepcion is scoring the winning run on Ken Griffey's double.

Game 3 in two days.

1976 Topps World Series (Game 1)

Topps could not have picked a worse time to de-emphasize World Series cards. From 1960-75 (oddly skipping 1966), Topps issued a World Series subset that covered every game individually. Imagine how fans must have felt when they ripped open their packs of '76 Topps and found this instead, especially coming off a series for the ages:

I mean, how can you condense such an experience into one tiny card? And that's Carlton Fisk in the upper left, but that sure as hell isn't his Game 6 home run -- he's being greeted at the dugout, not home plate, and if you look closely, the Sox are wearing their road grays with "BOSTON" across the front.

When I was growing up, this was one of smoking guns the baseball card-magazine writers used when they'd write one of their tired regular "Topps isn't as good as it used to be" broadsides, which seemed to alternate every other month with that other perennial favorite of the time, "baseball isn't as good as it used to be."

Anyway, let's give the '75 series some justice and make a worthy World Series subset, starting with Game 1, 40 years ago today. (Each card will be posted on the anniversary of the game in question.) Boston's Luis Tiant pitched a 5-hitter and had a memorable jaunt around the bases in a 6-0 win. All six runs were scored in the seventh in a rally that began with Tiant's single.

I liked both pictures, so I made two cards of No. 23 in action.

Tomorrow, Game 2.

1975 Topps Jim Rice

Well, if we do a card for one Gold Dust Twin, we have to do the other, right? As with Freddie Lynn, Jim Rice was stuck in a 4-in-1 rookie timeshare card. Here's Jim Ed in his rightful solo glory.

Advanced 1970s-80s Red Sox collectors will notice I swiped this Rice pic from the 1980 Topps Superstar Photo set, with the blue facsimile sig changed to black. This photo might be from spring training 1979, when the Red Sox ditched their 1975-78 red hats for the classic blue versions, but kept the pullover jerseys until opening day, when they returned to the pre-1972 button-down jerseys and belted pants.

Chad Finn's wonderful countdown/nostalgia trip of the Top 50 Red Sox Prospects of the Past 50 Years ranks Rice at No. 1.

Speaking of the Spirit of '75, we're going to celebrate the 1975 World Series soon with a series of 1976 Topps World Series cards. Each card will be posted on the 40th anniversary of the day the game was was played, which means Game 1 is coming up in two days. Check it out!

1975 Topps Fred Lynn

So I heard this guy had a pretty decent rookie year in '75? Despite his awesomeness, he's stuck in a four-in-one rookie card with Ed "Interference, My Ass" Armbrister, Tom "Traded to Boston for George Scott" Poquette and Terry "Can't Think of a Snarky Nickname" Whitfield.

I admit to cheating with this one. A proper '75 Topps card would show the Red Sox in the previous year's uniforms, which used blue hats instead of the red ones they adopted for '75. Unfortunately, it's easier to find photos of Bernie Sanders smiling than color photos of Fred Lynn from '74, so I took a later Lynn photo at Gimped his hat blue.

One of the misconceptions about Lynn's career is that his numbers were helped by Fenway, and had he stayed with the Red Sox his whole career, he could have piled up stats that would have put him in Cooperstown. Not that WAR is the end-all, be-all of baseball stats, but a quick check to baseball-reference shows that five of Lynn's top six WARs came with the Red Sox. Wanna try OPS+ (OPS adjusted to the ballpark)? Lynn's top three came with the Sox. That his best numbers were in Boston was no ballpark illusion.

1965 Topps Jim Lonborg

Forty-eight years ago this week, the 1967 "Impossible Dream" Red Sox clinched the American League pennant with a 5-3 win over Minnesota Twins one year after finishing a half-game out of last place. Boston's Jim Lonborg fired a seven-hitter (and added two hits at the plate himself) to complete his AL Cy Young-Award winning season. But you all know that already.

Lonborg's rookie card is in the 1965 Topps set, shoehorned with three other guys (Jerry Moses, Mike Ryan and Bill "One career game, one at-bat" Schlesinger). Let's fix that. I couldn't decide which Lonborg photo to use, so of course I used both.

Lonborg is often thought of a one-year wonder because of his December '67 ski accident that basically ruined his last four seasons with the Sox, but he went to have several solid seasons with the Phillies as part of Steve Carlton's supporting cast; in fact, he won more games with the Phillies (75) than with the Red Sox (68). He fished his career with a 157-137 record, hardly that of a one-year wonder.