|The first Iron Baby?|
I delight in the comments section. However, I worry that readers might miss some of the all-star anecdotes arriving later.
As they say on TV, this just in…
“Straight up: at spring training this year Cal Ripken signed a baby onesie for my wife and I. We’d brought it as a lark for players to sign, looking to frame it later, but decided that with Cal it was quits after that.
Then my daughter was born 6 weeks early and spent 3 weeks in intensive care. Today she’s home and doing great at just under 4 months. She’s now unofficially the “Iron Baby,” and has an “Iron Man” signed-onesie to prove it.”
The moral? Find meaning in every autograph. Make the hobby your own.
Memorabilia is nothing without the MEMORY. I love this tale. Thanks for sharing. Happy Thanksgiving to the three of you.
One of the most meaningful moments of the baseball season came when I viewed a segment of the MLB Player Poll.
I’ve always dismissed the show as a “Baseball TMZ” or “Diamond Talking Heads.”
However, the answers pointed out a problem real collectors are facing.
Once, I thought the guy who wanted a used hot dog wrapper autographed made us look bad.
Now, we’re the ones who get the stink-eye.
Autographing a body part or someone’s baby is easy. “I don’t think you could sell your own kid on eBay, just to get rich off my autograph,” thinks the current player.
However, if you take the time to present a meaningful artifact, then the paranoia ensues. “That’s so nice, I’m sure you’ll sell and make a profit off me! I’d rather sign bits of garbage, knowing that you’ll throw the autographs away.”
Whether in person or by mail, be ready to tell about your collection to a potential signer. In the hobby’s “new normal,” we need to redefine what autographs mean to us.