Thad Bosley Didn't Need the First Half
Though he did need an assist from the Red Baron
1984 Topps Thad Bosley (#657) - Card of the Day
There are some baseball cards that just “click” with your sense of aesthetics and refuse to let you not love them, no matter what your subconscious objections might be.
I’ve written about these kinds of cards before, here, here, and here, for starters, but in other times and places, too.
For me, many of these cards that “make” me love them no matter what tend to feature a lot of blue. That often means I find myself drawn to random Dodgers cards, no matter how much the Reds fan in me protests.
But the 1984 Topps Thad Bosley card (above) was more dangerous than any Jim Gilliam or Steve Sax could ever be.
Back in 1984, I was still a new fan, having just started following baseball for real in 1983, goaded along by my newfound love for baseball cards. The Reds were my team from the get-go, and I mourned along with the rest of the Cincy faithful when Johnny Bench retired after the 1983 season, even though I never “knew” him like they did.
But even that first October, in 1983, it became clear to me that I’d have to find rooting interests outside of the Riverfront on occasion, especially if I wanted to have any skin in the postseason — my Reds were going nowhere fast.
So my first latch-on team were the Phillies, who carried me through that first golden dalliance with a championship run (even if it fell short).
That offseason, the Reds got us all excited by signing Dave Parker as a free agent, but the baseball cognoscenti told us to hold our horses — Cincinnati was still going to be bad.
And they were.
But the new season had plenty of amazing stories to follow, anyway, starting with the juggernaut Tigers and soon expanding to include the near mythical rise of Dwight Gooden, the sudden contention of perennial doormats, and, eventually, the emergence of Don Mattingly.
In the meantime, one of our local TV stations started picking up WGN broadcasts of Cubs games — not all of them, but enough that Harry Caray and Steve Stone started to feel like my diamond uncles.
And, of course, guys like Ryne Sandberg, Jody Davis, Lee Smith, Bob Dernier, Gary Matthews, and all the rest generated a lot more excitement sliding out of a wax pack once I was watching them play on a semi-regular basis.
Didn’t hurt anything at all that the Cubs spent the season batting the Mets for the National League East title, both teams joining the Padres as surprise contenders.
In fact, almost right away, Cubs cards in that 1984 Topps set seemed to have an extra pop to me — the purple text and gold headshot background were gaudy, sure, but they accented the Cubbies colors well and added a sense of royalty.
Or maybe impending royalty, like the Cubs might turn into the Lakers of MLB.
The Bosley card has all that going for it, but you might think it looks pretty bland otherwise. It’s just a batting pose, after all.
But it’s a pretty classic shot, and Topps framed it well. Bosley’s eyes aren’t looking at the camera, which gives you (me, at least) the slight illusion that he’s watching the pitcher go into his windup, or checking on the runner at first base.
It reminded me right away of some cards from the past I had only seen pictures of at that point — 1959 Fleer Ted Williams (a couple of them), 1957 Topps Hank Aaron, 1969 Topps Mickey Mantle.
The grandstand curving around behind Bosley adds a festive flair to the thing, and the man himself looks young and lithe. You know, like a ballplayer.
Heck, even his name added to the allure of this card. “Bosley” was an unusual name in my experience, and there had never been another human named “Thad” as far as I knew by 1984.
It didn’t even register with me, not really, that Bosley himself was a no-show as the Cubs were setting themselves up for a run at the National League East division title. After 51 games in the minors, he finally got the call to Wrigley in June, debuting for the season on the 25th.
That was two days after my first trip to Riverfront Stadium, which sealed my fate as a forever Reds fan and nipped in the bud any stray thoughts I might have had about switching my allegiance (not that there were any such thoughts — prove it!).
For his part, Bosley hit nearly .300 in 55 games the rest of the way, picking up playing time in the outfield corners that earlier might have gone to Mel Hall the Cubs shipped him, Darryl Banks, Joe Carter, and Don Schulze to the Indians in exchange for George Frazier, Ron Hassey, and Rick Sutcliffe.
Mostly, Bosley became one of manager Jim Frey’s favorite pinch hitters.
Along with the sheer beauty of the card, it was enough for me to hold onto hope for a Bosley breakout for years. Eventually, I stumbled across his Angels rookie card from way back in 1978 and started to realize that maybe he had broken as far as he was going to.
Overall, Bosley played parts of 14 summers in the major leagues, appearing for seven different teams. He hit .272 with 20 home runs, 158 RBI, 47 stolen bases, and at least one beautiful baseball card that tried to lure me to the ivy-encrusted darkside.
And today, Thad Bosley turns 68 years old.
A Goose by Any Other Name
Bosley played in two League Championship Series during his career, in 1981 with the Brewers and in 1984 with the Cubs.
His very last postseason plate appearance came when he pinch-hit for Larry Bowa leading off the top of the eighth inning in Game 5 of the 1984 NLCS against Goose Gossage.
As often happened in those sorts of matchups, Gossage got his man, striking out Bosley. The Cubs mounted a bit of a rally, but Goose managed to shut them down with no runs scored to preserve the 6-3 Padres lead.
Warren Brusstar replaced Bosley in the lineup heading to the bottom of the frame, though he never batted but did pitch against San Diego in their last turn at-bat.
Gossage shut down the Cubs again in the ninth to pick up the save and nail down the win for Craig Lefferts and the series win for San Diego.
In case you were wondering, Gossage appears as “Rich” on his Baseball Reference page, which I guess is fair since that’s his name. But, of course, “Goose” carries the day for anyone who saw him pitch.
That Rich/Goose dichotomy existed throughout his baseball card career, too, so let me ask you…
Do you remember the first time “Goose” Gossage appeared on cardboard?
I took a sort of winding and convoluted run at answering that question a while back. Read all about it right here.
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Alright, that’s all for today. Like a Goose left behind by the flock in December, I gotta fly.
Thanks for reading.
—Adam
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