The Notebook: Sharing Yankees of the past

Despite the misleading title, this is not some sort of cheesy chick flick that your girlfriend or wife will try to drag you to.  If only those movies were anything like this.

When I was about 12 or 13 years old I found a composition notebook nestled at the bottom of a drawer in my bedroom.  To this day I can honestly say I don't know how it got there.  Even my father has no clue, as he grew up a Brooklyn Dodgers fan and was only one year old when the book was started.  Written on the cover of the book, in what was evidently the writing of a kid, were the words, "Started in 1952."

I remember absolutely losing my mind when I turned the cover of the book and saw this:

Needless to say I knew these cards weren't worth a penny.  The glue holding them to the paper might as well been cement.  These things weren't moving off the page for anything.  Even trying would risk the face of the card, the only thing sacred in this Yankees tome.

Flip a few more pages and you'll come across a few other notable Yankees, although not nearly as historic as the first page:

Page three?  Yeah, you could say a few of these guys made history:

Page four and five are a bit more obscure, so I clustered them together in this pic:

This here is the last page of cards included in the book.  It leaves so much more to be desired, but luckily some gems had yet to be revealed.

Resting in the center of the notebook was an old newspaper clipping of Mickey Mantle holding the baseball from his 562 ft. grand slam that landed in someone's backyard.  I've contemplated removing it from the book and framing it, as it is only held in with very old scotch tape.

As I thumbed through the rest of the book there were plenty of blank pages left that unfortunately were never filled.  However, one of the last two cards in the book is the sort of thing any 12 year old card collector would easily revel as the most amazing thing they'd ever seen:
Further adding to the allure of this book are two pictures that were obviously taken on the street somewhere near the Stadium.  When you think about it the owner of the book is on the other side of that camera, and yet I still have absolutely no clue who it could be.  Notice "Rizzito."
I asked a few of my uncles if they were the ones who started it up, but knowing they weren't as big a baseball fan as my father growing up I wasn't the least bit surprised when they told me "no."

Like many kids growing up, I collected baseball cards.  My generation was bred on keeping the cards in mint condition, plastic cases and sealed boxes.  My father embraced this hobby of mine growing up, but always kicked himself for not doing the same when he was younger.  Unlike the cards in this notebook, my father was able to salvage a few of his, including a Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale rookie card.  Although the backs were scuffed up on those, both are getting some face time on the bar room wall in the basement as inserts in a picture frame. 

After all, you can't see the back of them, right?

Thanks for letting me share.