Cal Ripken and Pete Rose Lead The Autograph Guest Line

In a recent post I wrote about a sports autograph show at which hundreds of fans stood on line for an hour or two and to meet the Mets’ rookie pitching sensation Noah Syndergaard.  They paid, on average, $75 per autograph. To keep the line moving during his 90-minute appearance on a game day, photos were prohibited. “YIKES!” tweeted Gypsy Oak, a sports hobbyist. “For $75 Noah Syndergaard should come to your home, sign 5 items, mow your lawn, AND grace you with a photo.”

On the Autograph Magazine Forum, Ryan, a Los Angeles Dodgers fan, fumed that “It’s the same morons who pay $10K for a Kris Bryant Bowman Chrome refractor autograph when they could’ve bought a Babe Ruth for the price. Insane.” Since Syndergaard has not even pitched a full season yet, Ryan wasn’t totally off base. Betting on the latest, hot rookie is a form of gambling, especially in New York’s media hothouse. How much do you want for your Craig Jefferies and Kevin Maas cards?

Imagine how my non-collecting friends reacted. They cannot comprehend why any intelligent fan would go through the effort and expense of collecting autographs at shows.  I try to explain, usually to no avail, that the autograph guests deserve to be compensated for their time and travel and for performing a service that makes people happy.  Furthermore few of yesteryear’s stars had the big pay days that players enjoy now.

There’s no doubt that in-person autographs are a terrible investment. First the market is saturated because most of the signers have been scribbling away for decades. Plus middle-aged, retired athletes have decades ahead of them to keep signing. Buying an autograph second-hand on eBay costs considerably less. For example a signed, authentic Cal Ripken photo goes for $75, about half the price at a show.

But that purchase doesn’t give you the chance to actually meet your hero and have him sign his autograph in person.  On top of that, if you want a special piece like a ticket stub from a game you attended or have a special piece of artwork, here’s your chance.  In a previous post I interviewed Mariano Rivera fans shelling out $1000 for his autograph and numerous inscriptions.

Given the cost at the recent East Coast National, which ranged from $10 for the Cardinals and Phillies ex-outfielder, Bake McBride, to $229 for bats and jerseys for Hall of Fame shortstop Cal Ripken, it’s fair to ask what you get for your money. So I quietly sat for a few hours on a Saturday and Sunday at a long autograph table on the White Plains, NY County Center stage with the permission of the show promoters, J.P. Sports & Rock Solid Sports, watching a bigtime autograph assembly line.

Pete Rose is an absolute pro, as you would expect now that he makes his living signing at a Las Vegas mall.  Everyone who wanted a smile and handshake got one.  “My Dad says you’re the greatest hitter ever,” said a pint-sized admirer straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting “Can you please sign my ball ‘major league hit king?’” Another boy asked him for one hitting tip. Rose looked him in the eye and said “be aggressive. Be aggressive and you’ll be Babe Ruth.” An adult fan with an iconic photo of Rose fighting Bud Harrelson, the Mets shortstop, during the 1973 Playoffs told him he was at the game; a riot ensued. “Were you the one throwing whiskey bottles?” Rose asked.

Mookie Wilson, the Mets’ fleet-footed centerfielder, greeted everyone with a happy hello and asked how they were doing as though he really meant it.  An astute fan complained that nobody scores from second on an infield single anymore like he did.  “Yeah, that’s for sure!” Wilson said. Another expressed hope for the Mets this season. “All we can do is hope, and we have that this year,” Wilson said.

A few feet away Bill Buckner sat stoically, signing photos of the ground ball that Wilson hit between the first baseman’s legs during Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, helping cost the Red Sox their first championship since 1918.  He and Wilson have become close friends as a duo on the autograph circuit. Twenty years ago I wrote a story about their joint appearances.  Buckner, a terrific hitter, said that he got the last laugh from people paying him for his autograph associated with the moment.  Wilson expressed a desire to be remembered for things other than that one play, such as scoring from first on infield singles. He must have loved hearing what that White Plains fan had to say.

The biggest surprise by far was the congeniality of Eddie Murray, the Hall of Fame Baltimore Orioles’ power-hitter. I figured that he would be a surly slugger, considering his notoriously difficult relationship with the press during his career.  But he smiled and seemed genuinely content to revel in the adulation.  A pregnant woman in a Baltimore Orioles t-shirt appeared, looking about to deliver at any moment. “One for the baby?” Murray asked. “It wasn’t me!”  Everyone within ear shot laughed, including me. Pointing to her belly, she said the name was Camden; as in Camden Yards where the Orioles play.

Bo Jackson, the football and baseball superstar, had the biggest entourage, including children. Contractual obligations precluded him from signing the inscription “Bo Knows” from his famous advertising slogan or the photo of him with the bat in shoulder pads. No picture-taking either. When I tried a big bouncer type I didn’t recognize told me that I needed Jackson’s permission. I wasn’t about to mess with a guy famous for breaking bats over his knees and head and ending a huge tackler’s career with one hit.

Jackson charged not only some of the highest rates, up to $159 for equipment, jerseys, and helmets, but the most for inscriptions, $99. (They sell for $80 to $200 on eBay).  I later learned the reason for the tight photo rules from looking at the autograph show’s website. “Photo ops” cost $129. (Bo knows capitalism.) Although he was the only guest in White Plains to charge for the privilege of being photographed with him, it was a common practice at this years’ National Sports Collectors Convention in Chicago. This is where I draw the line.  In this era of smart phones split-second photos should be part of the complete package, unless there are extenuating circumstances like Syndergaard’s.

On Sunday Cal Ripken took his turn at bat a few weeks before the 20th anniversary of breaking Lou Gehrig’s record for consecutive games played. He was polite and pleasant, steady and dependable--- just like he played. His autograph was $229, $70 more than Jackson’s, but inscriptions, like Ironman or 2632 games played, cost almost half as much, $59.

When it came to photos, Ripken was the anti-Bo. After receiving their autographs, customers waited on a short line on the right-hand stage area. Every 15 minutes or so Ripken popped up from his seat to pose with them against a colorful backdrop which his people set up to celebrate his milestones and foundation. For free.

Ripken flashed a grin for every guest and draped his arm around their shoulders. “This is the full part of the Cal Ripken experience,” his representative Glenn Valis explained. It would be wonderful to turn back the clock to his playing days. Even at the height of his glory, Ripken was a free and willing signer at the ballpark and stayed for long stretches after games to accommodate the crowds. For a few hours these encounters were the next best thing and everyone seemed grateful for the opportunity, no matter what the cost.