Going On The Road To Uncover Post-Baseball Life Of 1980s Players With ‘Wax Pack’ Author Brad Balukjian

If sports had not been shutdown due to the coronavirus pandemic, the baseball season would have been in entering its second full week while a slew of baseball books hit the market. One of the more unique books is the Wax Pack, a book where biology professor turned author Brad Balukjian went on the road to uncover the lives 15 former players from a pack of 1986 baseball cards to uncover how their lives unfolded once the cheering on the field stopped.

I spoke to Balujkian about the book from its inception to its completion and below is our discussion.

Baseball cards are obviously a focus of the book, but what inspired you to pick 15 random players and seek out their stories after baseball beyond merely looking up any information on the internet about them?

As a writer, my dream was always to have an opportunity to practice the form of creative non-fiction I had trained in at Duke University, where you apply the techniques of fiction (dialogue, scene-setting details, point-of-view) to non-fiction. My vision for this book was to have an overarching narrative, and in order to accomplish that, I knew that I needed to be an active participant in the book.

To me, the book is much more compelling having that story arc, allowing it to cross the genres of travel, memoir, and baseball, and ultimately giving it broader appeal than just a “baseball book.” It was an ambitious idea—how do I tell these 14 individual stories along with my own in a way that flows together and does not seem disjointed?

What was the methodology like in planning the road trip? Was it based on geography or based on the availability of the player on the card?

After I opened the pack, I spent about nine months doing research and planning out the trip. I first had to look at public records databases and autograph collector handbooks to figure out where all the players lived, and I then had to contact each of them and hope that they would participate (thankfully, most of them said yes). Then I had to map out my route across the country. It ended up being pretty zig-zaggy—for example, at one point I headed the opposite direction, going west from Dallas so I could go to the tiny town of Camargo, Oklahoma, where one of the players, Don Carman, grew up.

This project is from a pack of 1986 cards, how many packs of cards did you open before deciding on the players to seek out their stories?

I opened about a dozen packs; I knew that if I opened only one and several of the players had passed away or they all lived in the same part of the country, it wouldn’t make for a very good road trip book. But I did not mix cards between packs—the players in the book were all in the same pack.

The book mentions you are a fan of underdog players, which player was most satisfying to talk to and uncover his post-baseball story?

I have always loved underdogs, probably because I identify as one myself. I was a late bloomer and was picked on a lot in junior high. So, I think I felt some kind of kinship with the players who were always scrapping to stay on the team. My favorite player as a kid was one such underdog, Don Carman.

Meeting him created a paradoxical situation—on the one hand, I was on cloud nine getting to meet my hero, but on the other I was nervous because I took my role as a journalist seriously and knew I was going to make him uncomfortable with some of the questions I would be asking.

Was there anyone in the packs you opened, you wanted to speak to but decided not to and if so, why?

As I mentioned earlier, the integrity of the pack in the book remained intact—no cards were mixed between the packs I opened.

Who was the easiest player to track down?

Rance Mulliniks. He is a realtor now, and we all know realtors are the easiest people’s phone numbers to find. Just a Google search away.

Who was the most elusive player to track down?

Vince Coleman. He was so elusive that his chapter is called Vincent Van Gone. But I was able to still find his childhood home, church, and high school in Jacksonville, Florida.

What is the significance of the 1986 set for you that you devoted a book to? Were there any other sets you considered?

1986 was the first year I remember collecting baseball cards. Actually, 1986 is the first year I remember anything. I guess I was blacked out for the first five years of my life.

From reading the book, it seems that many 1980s players are regular people post-baseball, perhaps more so than those who have come after due to the rising salaries, it that the sense you got as an author and hope to convey to readers?

I would say that we have a lot more in common with all ballplayers than we realize. That’s one of the points I want to get across, that these are just regular people who had an unbelievable but fleeting talent. I don’t think it’s healthy for fans to worship them as superheroes or gods; it’s wonderful to be a fan and appreciate their talent, but they are mortals. Every time you boo a player for making an error, the player hears that, and it hurts.

How extensive is your collection of baseball cards? Where do you keep the cards of the players you decided to write about?

I have thousands of cards, but most of them are in storage in my mom’s condo. I don’t actively collect. I actually had the cards from the Wax Pack in one of my storage units until recently, when I fished them out. I am considering making some kind of display with them.