I came across a couple of baseball treasures this past weekend. I was able to add to my “unmatched” Sherm Lollar collection (Old Sport Shorts #5: Who was that masked man?) and I bought a glass sign that says, “COMISKEY PARK TICKET OFFICE.” It’s a cool addition to the office. The glass is chipped, the paint weathered, and the bottom line: fake. The guy who sold it to me for “less than half of what he paid for it” had thought it to be an original. He is an experienced collector who was fooled at its authenticity. “They can just about fake anything anymore,” were his words of frustration. I didn’t really care if it was original or not, and certainly didn’t want to pay the price of the original – if it even exists.
Caveat Emptor were the Latin words for “let the buyer beware,” I had learned back in business school at Indiana University. With modern technology, it’s just as easy make an exact copy of something, as it is to detect if it’s an original or not. It applies to all things of value, including fine wine if you watch the movie, “Sour Grapes.” If there are two things that the move to Oregon three years ago taught me, wine and baseball top any list. In my short time here, I’ve visited more wineries than ever, helped grow grapes, and have never had in my possession so many bottles. By the same token, I’ve rekindled a childhood interest in baseball cards, become a student of baseball history, and attended more baseball card collector shows than at any point in my life.
Can I tell a fake from an original? No. I just like to be surrounded by baseball history and never want to run out of wine. Would I invest in anything of value? No. I think I would be equally happy with a fake Monet, since I also have one of those in my office. I drink fake Coke, have a few fake teeth, and even have a fake watch. At one time, I had a fake ID, but you don’t need one anymore if you’re of retirement age like me. I do have a couple of originals in my collection, but none are of significant value to anyone else but me.
The same friend who sold me the Comiskey Park sign, also threw in an original Sports Illustrated poster of Walt “No Neck” Williams, another White Sox player like Sherm Lollar that few care about but me. As part of the “deal,” I’m also getting a fake copy of the Chicago Daily News from September 25, 1920 with the headline, “EIGHT OF WHITE SOX INDICTED.” It’s got fake yellow coloring, fake creases and folds, and fake photos of the infamous Black Sox players accused of throwing the 1919 World Series. It will still look good in my office, and the price was right. It is r”rare” when the White Sox make the World Series, let alone give it away.
Fortunately, I also doubt that my son is anxious for my death just so he can inherit my valuable collection of fakes, unknowns, and has-beens. I did leave them for him in my will, anyway since I do have a fake Ernie Banks jersey with a certified autograph, and other signed items that I witnessed personally. They will all probably be deemed fake sometime in the future. Sorry, kid!
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