Year 1 in review
A lot has changed in a year
The picture above was taken when I went to Sphere in Las Vegas back in February, to see U2 perform near the end of their run there. It bills itself as an “experience” and that it most certainly is.
This year, actually, has been filled with experiences, some of them new, and others not entirely so. But between a Rolling Stones concert and a total eclipse of the sun, and the purchase of a new car and the return to NYC for the first time since before the COVID shutdown, I was able to keep this writing project going, and I’m actually somewhat happy with the results.
So, as the final hours are running away from 2024, here’s where things stand with the baseball end of things:
My 70s player collection currently stands at 915 unique players, of which 638 (or just a hair under 70%) are still alive as of this writing. 277 of them (or just a player or two above 30%) are no longer with us. That number seems likely to shift a bit in the upcoming year, as time does what it always does. But whenever I manage to secure a new batch of cards—which does happen on occasion—the numbers seem to follow that general breakdown. It’s anybody’s guess as to what the future holds, but the tipping point—where the dead players will outnumber the living ones—still seems a few years off in the future.
When broken down by subcategories, there are currently 21 players in the MAC, or Michael Anthony Clique. This is living ballplayers from the 1970s who are not yet 70 years old themselves, and in the upcoming year 15 of those 21 players will “age out” of this group. By September of 2026 there won’t be any of them left, which will be something to see if I keep going for that long.
The biggest subcategory, by far, is the 490 players in the NYC, or the Neil Young Club. These are ballplayers from the 1970s who are currently between the ages of 70 and 79 years of age. Ballplayers born in 1945—of which there are 24 in my collection at the moment—will likewise “age out” in the coming year. But they represent the majority of the total number of 70s ballplayers that I currently have, and that will likely continue for as long as I keep doing this.
The final subcategory of living ballpayers that I have is the MLJ, or Moves Like Jagger. This is the group of ballplayers from the 70s who are currently upwards of 80 years of age. With 127 players falling into this grouping, it’s likely their numbers will thin out a bit in the coming 12 months, because there’s only one other place for them to go at this point.
Which brings me to the final order of business here, which is the My 70s Project In Memorium list. We’ll start with the nine players who moved from the MLJ group into the TTL, or the Tina Turner League. In the order of their passing, they are:
Brant Alyea, February 4, age 83
Jerry Grote, April 7, age 81
Willie Mays, June 18, age 93
Pete Rose, September 30, age 83
Luis Tiant, October 8, age 83
Rudy May, October 19, age 80
Rico Carty, November 25, age 85
Merv Rettenmund, December 7, age 81
Gary Sutherland, December 16, age 80
Since the NYC is a bigger group than the MLJ, it makes sense that more of them would move into their counterpart, the Jimmy Buffett Society, over the past year. And that is exactly what happened, too. Again, in order of their passing, they are:
Bud Harrelson, January 11, age 79
Steve Staggs, January 12, age 72
Don Gullett, February 14, age 73
Larry Demery, February 20, age 70
Ed Ott, March 3, age 72
Bill Plummer, March 12, age 76
Chuck Seelbach, March 22, age 76
Pat Zachry, April 4, age 71
Ken Holtzman, April 14, age 78
Tony Scott, May 26, age 72
Jim Umbarger, August 5, age 71
Mike Cubbage, August 11, age 74
Ed Kranepool, September 8, age 79
Doug Bird, September 24, age 74
Al Fitzmorris, December 4, age 78
Bill Melton, December 5, age 79
Lenny Randle, December 29, age 75
Some of these players and their passings I have written about in the past year, and some I have not, but I wanted to acknowledge them all before the year turned over.
And with that, I leave you with my favorite year-end poem, from Robert W. Service.
The Passing of the Year
by Robert W. Service
My glass is filled, my pipe is lit,
My den is all a cosy glow;
And snug before the fire I sit,
And wait to feel the old year go.
I dedicate to solemn thought
Amid my too-unthinking days,
This sober moment, sadly fraught
With much of blame, with little praise.
Old Year! upon the Stage of Time
You stand to bow your last adieu;
A moment, and the prompter’s chime
Will ring the curtain down on you.
Your mien is sad, your step is slow;
You falter as a Sage in pain;
Yet turn, Old Year, before you go,
And face your audience again.
That sphinx-like face, remote, austere,
Let us all read, whate’er the cost:
O Maiden! why that bitter tear?
Is it for dear one you have lost?
Is it for fond illusion gone?
For trusted lover proved untrue?
O sweet girl-face, so sad, so wan
What hath the Old Year meant to you?
And you, O neighbour on my right
So sleek, so prosperously clad!
What see you in that aged wight
That makes your smile so gay and glad?
What opportunity unmissed?
What golden gain, what pride of place?
What splendid hope? O Optimist!
What read you in that withered face?
And You, deep shrinking in the gloom,
What find you in that filmy gaze?
What menace of a tragic doom?
What dark, condemning yesterdays?
What urge to crime, what evil done?
What cold, confronting shape of fear?
O haggard, haunted, hidden One
What see you in the dying year?
And so from face to face I flit,
The countless eyes that stare and stare;
Some are with approbation lit,
And some are shadowed with despair.
Some show a smile and some a frown;
Some joy and hope, some pain and woe:
Enough! Oh, ring the curtain down!
Old weary year! it's time to go.
My pipe is out, my glass is dry;
My fire is almost ashes too;
But once again, before you go,
And I prepare to meet the New:
Old Year! a parting word that’s true,
For we’ve been comrades, you and I—
I thank God for each day of you;
There! bless you now! Old Year, good-bye!