Steve Garvey
October 6, 2006
“The formula ‘two and two make five’ is not without its attractions.” — Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground
The perfect all-American asphyxia-blue two-plus-two-makes-four symmetry of this 1976 card is broken only by the reaching out of the 1974 NL MVP’s glove hand, an aesthetic disturbance that seems to call on the viewer to complete some larger symmetrical pattern. An honorable, well-adjusted, Garveyesque man would respond to this beckoning with a fittingly direct rock-jawed all-American reply. A firm handshake. A straight brisk overhand strike. A logical balancing of the equation. Why does the only answer that appeals to me involve dropping a hefty deuce in the webbing of Steve Garvey’s mitt?
Cardboard Gods 
1. Ah yes, let me be the first to respond to the ’76 Garvey. Steve Garvey. The man I loved to hate. Of course I hated all of the late 70’s Dodgers, but none of them quite encapsulated the loathing as much as Steve did. He looked like a statue up there. With something large lodged somwhere small. I am shocked he could even swing the bat, much less club single followed by double followed by homerun to beat my beloved losers the Giants time and time again. Maybe if I had grown up happier, or at least closer to L.A. I could have appreciated this mannequin-with-a-bat-come-to-life, but, unfortunately I didn’t.
For those of you with me on this, remember the time Greg Minton struck him out sometime in the early 80’s for the last out of a game with a sinker 2 feet outside that Garvey must have missed by 3 feet??!! Good times, good times.
1978, the summer I turned eleven. My first serious run at collecting cards. As a huge Dodger fan, naturally I gravitated toward Steve Garvey. Our family spent most of the summer in Idaho, my Dad being a school teacher afforded us the time. For some reason, I could not find the Garvey card. I had 4 or 5 Vic Davallilo cards but no Garvey. We get back to my hometown of Holtville, along the Cal-Mex border and my buddy calls me and says yes, he has like 3 or 4 Garveys, lets trade!!! He was a Red’s fan and wanted, I don’t know, George Foster. I get over there, shoe box in hand and we sit down. He pulls out his Dodger cards, bundled together by a rubber band. He hands me 3 Steve Yeagers!!!! I wanted to either cry or punch him. How could he screw it up. Alas, he had no Garvey cards either. I knew the Garvey card was out there because I had the team checklist. Finally, the last week before school started to enter Junior High, I bought a pack, pulled it open and there it was!!! I was so excited that I gave my best friend my 1975 Steve Garvey mini card that my cousin had given me since he didn’t have any 1978 Garvey’s either.
Great story, caseybatts. Thanks for sharing it!