If you’ll entertain me, I’m about to be VERY superficial. He looks SUPER old in this card. Is it because he’s wearing his hat in the style of an uncool dad? Perhaps. I mention this because this “dad face” issue comes and goes dramatically, depending on the card. It’s not that bad in the 1989! He also looks sweaty in this Spring Training, anything-but-action shot. Wouldn’t mind knowing the backstory about that.
Second, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what the heck the point of this card design is. “I don’t know… but a rainbow around it? But… hmm.. not a full rainbox, just a traffic light. Yeah, that’ll work nicely.” It’s terrible, but thank God for that keyline which separates the photograph from the green of that border. It’s easy to call it a terrible design, but it’s barely a design. It’s a picture with a default border from The Print Shop switched on. That’s it. And, oh yeah, they used a nabla to separate the team name from the player name. Come on. (OK, it’s probably an upside-down triangle… but I wanted a reason to say “nabla.”)
It’s not all-bad, though. As spoiled in the last article, this is a “right-“sized card. None of the over-sized 1989 Bowman nonsense here.
The back showcases low rent cardboard with blue and black ink and those funky team splits for his 1989 season. (and check out that gaudy-for-a-41-year-old .293 batting average. Hubba hubba.)
Like 1989, Bowman 1990 has a Tiffany version which is legitimately limited and moves this… “design” onto white cardstock with gloss clear coat. LIterally polishing a (traffic light-colored) turd.
I don’t have nice things to say about this card, but it is a good spot to make a mental note. 1990 is when card counts for each year EXPLODE. New brands, new sub-brands, variants, you name it. And absolutely batsh*t crazy designs. This isn’t a good-looking card, but it absolutely isn’t batsh*t crazy. 1990 was also the year I bought my first pack of baseball cards. But more on that later.