#CardCorner: 1977 Topps Mark Fidrych

The season before, he had been a non-roster invitee to the Tigers’ camp, such a long-shot to make the team that the Topps photographer didn’t bother to take a photo of the tall, gangly kid who had already been nicknamed “The Bird” for his resemblance to the Sesame Street character: Tall with curly hair, cheerful and innocent. So there was no Topps card in 1976. Not even a small square shared with other prospects on a “Rookies” card.

But he impressed manager Ralph Houk in Spring Training in 1976 and made the roster. Through mid-May, he only pitched twice, for a total of an inning plus. Then, on May 15, Houk gave him the ball for his first start. It was a drizzly day in Detroit, with a high of 66 degrees. Fidrych had thought of flying his dad in for the game, but he was afraid it would be rained out. Though only 14,583 people attended, the audience was much greater. The Cleveland-Detroit game was the back-up Saturday Game of the Week, and when rains caused delays in Pittsburgh, most of the nation was switched to the Tigers game and the chance to watch Fidrych’s first start.

What they saw was unlike anything they had seen before. At the start of the second inning, Fidrych got down on his knees and smoothed out the dirt in front of the mound. There was a reason for it: His dad had taught him to fill in the holes created by the opposing pitcher in the previous inning. When he stood on the rubber and looked in for the sign, he held the ball out in front of him, then moved it back to his body, then out again. And he talked to himself, a constant chatter (the media loved to say he was talking to the ball). Then a long, leggy wind-up and a hard fastball, pounding the bottom of the strike zone. And energy. So much energy. Circling the mound between batters, bobbing up and down, squatting, standing. The Detroit Free Press called him “fidgety” and noted how he “sticks his tongue out of the right corner of his mouth on almost every pitch.”

A few players didn’t like it, at least not at first. Yankees catcher Thurman Munson, as opposite in personality as Fidrych as possible, called his antics “bush,” and said Fidrych was “fly-by-night” and a “showboat.” When Fidrych was asked to respond, he replied, “Who’s Thurman Munson?” He preferred playing games to watching and Munson hadn’t been in the lineup, so it was an innocent question, but many took it as a playful rebuttal. Munson himself seems to have taken it that way, going out of his way to extend an olive branch to Fidrych at the All-Star game that July.

On another occasion, Claudell Washington tried to break up Fidrych's energetically fast pace by stepping out of the box repeatedly. Finally, Fidrych stepped off the rubber and squatted, waiting, as if to say, "Take your time; I'll still be here when you're ready." When Washington did finally stand at the plate, Fidrych threw a pitch inside, and Washington took several steps, bat in hand, toward Fidrych, which emptied the benches.

Fidrych dazzled, giving up one run in nine innings. After the last out (a ground out, one of 14), Fidrych bounced around looking for teammates to congratulate, or groundskeepers, or even a startled security guard. Fans stood and clapped and chanted “We want Bird! We want Bird!” Fidrych, already dressed down, wasn’t one to take the spotlight from his teammates, and said he’d only go out if Rusty Staub (who had provided the offense with a home run and three RBI) went with him; Staub replied that the fans weren’t chanting “We want Staub,” and coaxed Fidrych to go out alone for a curtain call. That would become a pattern throughout the season, which Fidrych eventually got used to, within limits – he didn’t think he should take a curtain call if the Tigers lost, no matter how well he had pitched nor how loud the crowd chanted.

His enthusiasm was infectious. Minnesota manager Gene Mauch said, “I’m honestly more impressed with his enthusiasm than his pitching. That kid might be the best thing that’s happened to this game in a long time.”

And Fidrych seemed to be enjoying the whole ride: “I haven’t woke up yet,” he said. ‘I’m just loving it. I’m just loving it.”

Fidrych continued to win. Eight straight through June. He started the All-Star game. On July 16, he pitched a complete game, 11-inning, 1-0 shutout, and at one point retired 16 batters in a row, 14 on ground balls. He pitched five extra-inning complete games that summer. After a few losses in late August and early September, when many thought he was starting to fade, Fidrych closed the season with four wins in his last five starts, including two shutouts.

But more than that, he was a sensation. A media darling. A fan favorite. The talk of baseball. The star of the Summer of ‘76.