When I recently posted a picture of the world’s most valuable baseball that I had recently secured in a bidding war on the interweb thingy, and gave details behind some of the the autographs, I received a deluge of calls, e-mails, registered letters and personal appearances from rabid fans seeking to curry favor.
All were passionate pleas to see the ball, buy the ball—even touch the ball, which is like asking to touch the Mona Lisa to see if the paint’s dried! Preposterous. All offers were denied, with a ready supply of scorn and snide commentary.
Still, to appease the masses, I will give you another glimpse of some of the other luminaries who have inscribed this priceless relic.
Frank Zappa signed the ball in 1984 following a game in which he played centerfield for the San Francisco Giants. Zappa played the entire game on stilts, robbing batters of six home runs. He also stole four bases, Amazingly, the stilts had no cleats.
Ed Asner, the man who brought “Lou Grant” to fleshy dyspeptic life, signed the ball twice. The first, after umpiring a 1978 game between the Pittsburgh Pirates and Philadelphia Phillies, a game that is the only one in recorded history that ended in a tie, 0-0, after one inning of play. “Both teams played so well,” Asner said, “it seemed a shame that one had to lose.” So, he used his unlimited umpire powers to call the game (apparently Asner was a much softer touch than his Lou Grant character). The second autograph followed a 1981 appearance as a pitcher for the Minnesota Twins against the Cleveland Indians. He hurled a perfect game and ate 56 hot dogs with kraut in nine minutes and washed them down with 19 beers, a major league record.
Lady GaGa. The recording sensation played shortstop for the New York Mets in a game against the Atlanta Braves in 2009. She played flawlessly, turning six double players and throwing out five runners. Unfortunately, she was only one for five at the plate. “I probably could have gotten more wood on the ball,” she said after the game, “if I didn’t have this parrot sewn onto my uniform. Or these traffic pylons stitched on the front of my uniform. Oh, well, what are you going to do– got to look good, right?”
James Joyce penned the ball after playing third base for the Cincinnati Reds in 1911. The legendary Irish scribe had an unassisted triple play, hit for the cycle and wrote a novella in the dugout waiting his turn at bat. “I like baseball,” he told reporters following his impressive game, “but I like writing me tales perhaps a wee bit more.” With that, he spat his chaw, grabbed his typewriter and never cast a shadow in a ballpark again.
Tony Bennett, the legendary Italian crooner, autographed the ball following his incredible performance singing the national anthem before the 1988 World Series game #3 between the Oakland Athletics and the Los Angeles Dodgers. Bennett held the final note of the song for an incredible 16 minutes 42 seconds while juggling five baseballs and spinning a flaming hula hoop around his hips. Many believe this record may never be beaten.
Charo (A.K.A. María Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Gutiérrez de los Perales Santa Ana Romanguera y de la Hinojosa Rasten). The “cuchi-cuchi” queen played right field for the San Diego Padres against the Montreal Expos on June 28, 1978. The game stands in the record books as being the only game ever played by a player in high heels, and one of two games in which a player sported a sequin dress instead of the official team uniform (trivia experts are challenged to name the other). Charo made many amazing plays and threw out three players at home plate with her incredible canon of a right arm. As a batter, she walked, hit two singles, a triple and laid down a perfect sacrifice bunt.
Garth Brooks. The country superstar appeared as a Seattle Mariner in a 1995 game against the Detroit Tigers. In his first at bat, he was beaned, knocking his cowboy hat off his head. Brooks was awarded his base along with two Grammies and five CMA statuettes. He later collapsed.
Al Capone signed the baseball in 1926 following his appearance with the Chicago Cubs. He was a pinch hitter who batted appeared with the bases loaded. Capone stood in the batter’s box and gunned-down the pitcher with a Thompson submachine gun. He then waved the runners home and trotted around the bases as stunned fans and players watched. This is the only grand slam ever recorded where the bat did not touch the ball.
Julia Child inked the ball following her 1965 appearance as a Washington Senator. She was used as a pinch hitter in a game against the Cleveland Indians. Ms. Child was hit by a pitch, awarded her base and proceeded to steal second, third, and home plate scoring the winning run. “I couldn’t be happier,” she said in her sing-song voice after the game, “although I have a knot on my head the size of a pheasant egg. My goodness, that smarts like the dickens! I need four fingers of bourbon and a fistful of bennies to set me straight again.”
Ol’ “Hawkeye” Pierce, Mr. Alan Alda, signed the baseball following his appearance in a 1976 game in which he was a pinch runner for the Boston Red Sox in a tied game. Alda stole second base but felt guilty about it. Showing incredible empathy and compassion for the opposing team, the Chicago White Sox, he returned to first base. It is the only known incidence of a stolen base being returned. The Red Sox lost the game in extra innings. Mr. Alda has not been terribly popular in Boston since.
Secretariat, one of the world’s most beloved thoroughbred racehorses, was a pinch hitter for the St. Louis Cardinals in a game against the Houston Astros. Unfortunately, the Triple Crown winner had a poor showing, being called out on strikes. Many fans questioned the move by manager Red Schoendienst, thinking a horse with such great speed would have been better utilized as a pinch runner instead of a hitter. The Cards skipper said the move was “totally unexpected” and “brilliant” and that “had it paid off, the stupid fans would keep their idiotic yaps shut like they oughta.” As for Secretariat, he kicked dirt on the umpire following the called third strike and trotted off the field proudly leaving a trail of momentos.
Kim Novak, the “Vertigo” starlet, made big news when she appeared as the center fielder for the Kansas City Athletics in a game against the Baltimore Orioles. The batting beauty struck out in all four at bats and committed eighteen errors in the field, a record that still stands. “I guess baseball’s not my game,” she said afterward in a locker room interview. Her teammates consoled her and told her not to worry about it. They said she’d feel a lot better after a long, hot shower. A very long shower. And that’s what makes baseball great–– teammates who care!
You should have that ball appraised and get some insurance on it ASAP! I saw one a lot like it on Antiques Roadshow but it didn’t have Al Capone’s signature, so yours is probably worth a lot more.
The ball was appraised at “gobs and gobs of cold hard cash.” Unfortunately, I am having trouble finding an insurance company willing to cover that amount.
James Joyce? You want me to believe that James Joyce signed your baseball? You gotta be kidding me!
In 1911, having met Nora Barnacle, a chambermaid from County Galway, on June 16, 1904 – and impregnating her shortly thereafter – Joyce lived in Trieste, where he was an impoverished English teacher at the Berlitz Language School and a struggling writer.
Literary historians know of only two Nora Barnacle Joyce things she ever said to her husband.
One is about his athletic abilities: “Jimmy boy, you’re as blind as a bat, yes, yes, yes, you are, and your bottle bottom spectacles don’t help, so don’t get it into your head you’ll be making a quid playing any sport.”
He followed that advice, but ignored the most famous thing Nora ever said to him: “Why don’t you write books people can understand?”
She was hoping, of course, that he’d put his talent into a series of pulp novels, possibly in the romance or detective story genres, inasmuch as the condition in which she found herself and her children living was the definition of penurious.
Joyce was aiming higher. “I’ve put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant,” he said, “and that’s the only way of insuring one’s immortality.”
Back to your baseball… if you had said that Samuel Beckett had signed the ball, I might believe you, inasmuch as he was a tall, rangy man who excelled as a left-handed cricket batsman during his years at Dublin University. (See the Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack for more details.)
Note: James Joyce not only listened to Nora’s advice about his lack of athletic skills, he also stole the words “yes, yes, yes” from what she told him.
Mr. O’Rielly, while I know you are a noted historian in Irish literature, I found your tale quite interesting. But, it does not disprove the autograph on this baseball. I mean, you do have eyes, right? You can clearly read ‘James Joyce’, can’t you? If you state a case for some alternate dimension or reality, you may have a leg to stand on (like a flamingo in a Miami yard). But, I have reality working for me and I know what I see, and what I see clearly is the great Irish scribe’s John Hancock on the world’s most valuable baseball! Good day, sir!
What can I say?
I, too, have a valuable artifact in my possession. It’s a check in the amount of one million dollars which was presented to my father by a man by the name of Michael Anthony, acting as the agent of a reclusive billionaire by the name of John Beresford Tipton.
Even though a million dollars would have made a huge difference in his life, my father never attempted to cash the check, however, because he knew it was a prop from the TV show, “The Millionaire,” which ran on CBS in the late 50s.
I inherited the check. I’ve been offered as much as $100 for it, but like you and your baseball, I’ve turned down all offers, believing its value will only increase.
Cooperstown NY is only an hour away from where I live. One day in the near future, I may drive over and check the records in the Baseball Hall of Fame. For your sake, I hope I find out that you do indeed own the world’s most valuable baseball.
I may also zip over to Binghamton NY where Rod Serling, creator of “The Twilight Zone,” spent his childhood years. Perhaps by walking around in his hometown I’ll be able to understand the bizzaro world in which you live. (Mine, too.)
You are wise not to sell your check, like my baseball, it is most certainly priceless. That said, I suspect if someone were to up the ante, to say $103 or $105, you would have to part with the check. What else could you do?
By all means, I encourage you to scour the halls of Cooperstown. As I child I visited the temple of baseball and was very disappointed. The place was musty smelling and chock full of yellowing equipment allegedly used by great ballplayers. But, I do not recall any balls signed by the likes of James Joyce or Al Capone or Mr. Ed. In other words, the ball in my possession is far rarer than all the old crap in Cooperstown!
Should you crack the code to our alternate universe, the seam of which does indeed reside in Binghamton, please let me know. Thanks, Curvin.
My cousin out in Acworth says you fellas ought to sell your precious artifacts while you still remember what and where they are. Otherwise they could turn up in some yard sale when one of your ancestors cleans out an attic. There you have it, some friendly advice from Acworth.
Seems the best ideas always come from Ackworth.
I’m sorry, what was I saying?
I’ll try to get you the name of the gifted collector who bought Michael Jackson’s beaded glove for $192,000. He’ll know the value of the Scullin ball, that’s sure!
Thanks, Kitty. The dude who bought ‘the glove’ may be looking for a ball– they kind of go together. Although I’m not sure I could part with the baseball for any amount. Still, one never knows. It’s my nest egg, with stitches.
I’m in stitches over you thinking your faux baseball is your nest egg.
Did Sid Faux sign the ball, too? Could be, some of the names are faded. That makes the ball even more valuable! Thanks, Curvin, my nest egg just keeps growing.