While Topps has produced iconic baseball cards year after year, there are also many cards that could have been but never made it to production. Over the decades of producing America’s favorite pastime on cardboard, Topps explored numerous ideas that never came to fruition. Let’s explore some of the Topps baseball cards that never were.

Among the earliest concepts was a proposed 1956 Topps set that would have featured all current Major Leaguers in action poses instead of the standard portrait shots. At the time, action photos in cards were more difficult to acquire so Topps stuck with the traditional portrait format. They toyed with the idea of showing players in game situations more dynamically. A few prototype cards were produced but the idea was ultimately shelved.

In 1958, Topps considered adding limited color accents to their otherwise black and white design. A small run was printed test running hues like red, blue and yellow very sparingly on a few players’ uniforms or logos. The experiment was deemed too costly for the time so Topps went back to monochrome for another decade. These colorful predecessors to the later vibrant sets are highly sought after by vintage collectors.

Ever adapting to trends, Topps almost jumped into the 3D fad of the 1950s with a stereoscopic 3D baseball card set design in 1961. A small sampling was produced mounting two slightly offset images side by side that could be viewed with the cardboard 3D glasses of the day. While a fun novelty, it proved too complicated for mass production. The 3D cards that did surface are a true anomaly among vintage issues.

As league expansion was underway in the 1960s, Topps had plans for standalone sets dedicated to new franchises like the Mets, Colt .45s and others before merging them into the main checklist. Only a few protoypes emerged advertising the yet-to-be-released standalone issues before Topps consolidated rosters as the leagues grew.

Topps tinkered with unusual formats like postcard size cards for several seasons including 1964 but deemed them not profitable to pursue longterm. Super-sized cards both taller and wider than standard also saw limited sample print runs throughout the 60s and 70s before Topps stayed with the familiar dimensions collectors know.

Perhaps the most numerous proofs that never saw retail are the test prints Topps produced in the runup to the switch to color in 1967. Dozens of possible color schemes were tried before the winning design featured team colors as borders. Samples mixing up hues and motifs offer a rare behind-the-scenes view of products that development never finished.

Concurrent with the rise of expansion, Topps considered separate wax pack series devoted to players on each MLB team throughout the late 60s and early 70s. Small test runs highlighting individual clubs were produced but Topps stuck to one set rather than fragmenting the market. Near-complete play sets of made-for-prototype team issues are a true oddity for aficionados.

When 3D cards made a comeback in the early 70s, Topps briefly revisited the concept with proof sheets featuring two slightly offset images for players like Carl Yastrzemski. A small vending machine promotion may also have used the early 3D design although examples have never publicly emerged if truly distributed. The ephemeral 3D revival was too cumbersome to catch on longterm.

Along with oddball size cards, Topps flirted with unconventional shapes in their R&D phase like diamond or trapezoidal cuts for subsets in the 1970s. A small number of proofs in unique silhouettes exist but proved too production intensive. Marquee star cards receive the most experimentation beyond the standard rectangle.

As licensed products proliferated in the late 70s, Topps had designs for corresponding sets highlighting popular MLB-licensed items of the day from board games to puzzles. Prototype cards promoted the tie-in merchandise alongside players but few actual proof sheets came to light. Licensing managers deemed collateral tie-ins too distracting from the core baseball checklist.

Moving into the 1980s, initial proposals positioned the rise of NCAA schools as complementary sets endorsed by MLB. Early artwork showcased college players in hybrid collegiate-pro designs that didn’t quite fit Topps’ model. The amateur market developed through other vendors as MLB branding remained Topps’ focus.

Another concept tied 1987 Topps football design elements into a baseball offering. Test prints showed horizontal football-style card layout along with gridiron inspired graphics and materials. The look was deemed too removed from baseball aesthetics collectors expected from Topps although the sport mashups predated later crossover innovations.

Rookie year subset designs that broke from the standard rookie cup proved more elusive proof prints. Parallel ideas in the 1990s reimagined how stars’ first Topps cards appeared through unusual trims, action shots and more. Only a handful publicly emerged to represent the many rough concepts pitched over the years.

Cutting edge technologies also inspired some ahead-of-their-time experiments. In the 1990s, Topps prototyped baseball cards enhanced with early digital features like basic stats or video clips accessible through basic 1990s era websites printed on the back. Logistical hurdles ended most tech driven trials before fully implementing modern multimedia additions.

While 3D collectibles regained steam commercially, Topps only managed a few proof sheets applying holographic foiling or lenticular motion graphics on the fronts of star players in the late 90s/early 2000s before deeming the presentation too gimmicky or expensive at the time. The tests predated techniques common in today’s insert sets.

Into the 2000s, as parallel products like leather, metal or memorabilia cards dominated, Topps toyed with novel substrate experiments changing up the literal cardboard. Early stock prints featured unconventional materials like faux wood or tin surfaces alongside more conventional paper designs. Quality control issues halted most material tinkering beyond initial trial and error phases.

Throughout Topps’ baseball card reign, the tinkering and testing of new ideas that never quite came to be populate an obscure niche for only the most hardcore collectors. While Topps focused on ensuring each annual flagship set appealed to the masses, these outliers show the endless considerations that didn’t make the cut but still offer a rare view into the creative process behind America’s favorite pastime on cardboard. As baseball itself evolves, the cards that are and aren’t provide an enduring connection to the game’s history.