Over the weekend at the White Plains County Center, Kenny Palma, a dealer and collector, set up in his usual space in the corner of the East Coast National sports collectors show, as he has pretty much since he entered the sports memorabilia business just four years ago. Baseball bats, cleats, and catcher’s equipment were piled high on a dozen tables. A huge assortment of sports jerseys hung on a clothing rack like the those they wheel around in Manhattan’s garment district 25 miles south.
One jersey was missing from the rack because Palma had recently sold it in a big auction. It was an autographed Mark Messier hockey uniform shirt from the New York Rangers’ only Stanley Cup championship, in 1994, over the past 73 years.
Palma paid about $300 for it as part of a bigger collection he bought from a collector. “I didn’t like the way it was framed, so I took it out and brought it to the shows and hung it with the rest of my jerseys,” he says. Over the course of half dozen shows during a six-month span dozens of dealers and thousands of collectors, including me, walked past it. “I was asking $1000, but people offered me from $300 to $400,” Palma says.
Each time he turned down an offer Palma looked a little closer and began to wonder if he owned something far greater than a signed store-model jersey. His had sweat stains, slash marks on the chest from hockey-stick blades, and unrepaired holes in the sleeves.
Palma, who works mainly in construction, walked over to Heritage Auctions’ consignment booth and spoke to Derek Grady, a vice president in the sports division. Grady wanted neither to inflate Lama’s hopes nor dash them with a snap judgment, so he offered to send it off to one of the hobby’s top authenticators specializing in hockey jerseys. Beyond the Rangers logo applied to the chest and “C,” short for Captain, at the upper left, there was “Gerry Cosby” manufacturer’s tagging and a secondary label at the top of the “interior fight strap” (to keep the jersey from being removed during fights) that was used only one season. In other words, all signs proved that Messier wore the jersey during the Rangers' championship season.
Palma is sure glad no one paid him his $1000 asking price. He might not have been as lucky as a man in the late 1980s who paid $4 for a torn painting at a Pennsylvania flea market because he liked the frame, only to find a first printing of the Declaration of Independence hidden in the backing, which Sotheby’s sold for $2.4 million in 1991. But Palma made out just fine, A few weeks ago he flipped the jersey for $8365 (including the buyer’s premium) at a Heritage auction we both attended in Cleveland
By sheer coincidence, yesterday in White Plains, Grady shared with me a Wayne Gretzky Rangers jersey possibly worn by “The Great One” while he was a Rangers’ teammate of Messier. A potential consignor had brought it to show. Once again, showing me all the intricate tagging that looked similar to that on the Messier jersey, Grady made no promises before sending it out to be authenticated.
Palma is a very lucky man. It turns out that two years ago a man walked into a show with a jersey once worn by Boston Red Sox Hall of Famer Jim Rice. Palma paid him $100 and, upon learning that it was a gamer, had Rice autograph it for $75, “My game-used jersey.” Palma ended up selling it for about $4500.
No part of the sports memorabilia industry may pose more challenges than jerseys. For every gamer, there are thousands upon thousands of inexpensive replicas for sale at flea markets and thrift shops. Counterfeits abound, as well. Some have fake autographs; others, phony wear and tear.
Many years ago I paid $200 for an early 1960s flannel Washington Senators jersey hanging from the ceiling at the old sporting goods store owned and run by Cosby, the maker of the Messier jersey, when it moved from its old location at Madison Square Garden. This jersey had the name of major league outfielder Jim Lemon chain stitched in the collar. Alas after a little research it became evident that this was a salesman’s sample Cosby made, apparently, in a failed effort to land a major league contract. The jersey was worth about what I paid for it.
Back at his booth Palma handed me one of his latest purchases. At a flea market in Yonkers, New York where he lives, he spent $40 on a very beat-up New York Giants helmet bearing Hall of Fame Lawrence Taylor’s number 56 and autograph. Palma believes it may be the real deal, too. If so— and that’s still a big if—based on past auction results, he will be about $8000 richer,
