By Arthur Solomon
I know that I am not the brightest light bulb in the chandelier, as my wife keeps reminding me every hour on the hour, when I tell her on the half hour that President Obama proves the theory that politicians, regardless of party affiliation, say one thing and do another.
But I am pretty certain that I am not the dimmest bulb, although the woman who heads the PR firm that I work with isn’t sure that I’m not.
But one thing I am definite about. I need someone much more intelligent than I am to explain the minds of sports fanatics. But I’ll limit my ignorance to four questions.
I’ve always had a problem of understanding how grown people, (meaning anyone over the age of 13 – okay, maybe 15 ), can get so emotionally involved with a team or ballplayer, often costing them money which can be put to much better use – especially like helping support families in this time of low-wage economic crisis.
Let’s face the truth: unlike years ago, many of these players are here today, gone tomorrow, and the franchises are always looking for greener pastures.
What got me to call out for help was what Derek Jeter’s 3000th base hit has wrought upon us.
We now have thousand of fans willing to shell out big money for Jeter memorabilia, including dirt that was scooped up from home plate and the shortstop area of Yankee Stadium.
I have many sports memorabilia items, some of which may be worth a lot of money, but I didn’t pay for them. They were graciously given to me by Olympic, baseball, football, basketball and soccer standouts during the days when I was the key person in sports marketing campaigns at Burson-Marsteller, during my almost 25 years there.
Just to mention a few: an autographed baseball with the 50th All-Star Game logo that Carl Hubbell and Lefty Gomez, starting pitchers in the inaugural one, signed while I was talking to them, when for eight years I managed the publicity campaign for Gillette, then the sole sponsor of fan balloting. (I used Gomez to help promote the fan balloting effort.)
“Mean Joe” Green sent me an autographed football because of an interview I arranged for him about the need to get proper information about arthritis. Pele autographed a soccer ball, way back when soccer first tried to make it big it the U.S.
Bob Feller and Ralph Kiner, both of whom I used to promote the All-Star balloting program autographed baseballs. Ted Williams autographed a TV script I wrote for him, when he promoted the balloting.
And the list goes on, including mementos from Nolan Ryan, Robin Roberts, Pete Rose, Ernie Banks, Monte Irvin, Bob Mathias, Al Oerter, Flo Jo, Dr. J and too many others to mention. But the difference with these, and the mass manufactured Jeter memorabilia, is that mine are personal, tied to my working in events in which the athletes participated. It cost me exactly $0.00, always a “thank you” and handshakes.
It was Kiner, one of nicest of the many athletes I worked with to promote client sports marketing initiatives, who early on told me about the value of my collection. The first time he came to my office and saw all the memorabilia, he asked if they were originals or replicas. When I told him how I obtained them, he said, “Take them home. People are paying a lot of money for things like that.”
A few years ago, I decided to sell some of my collection and use the money to set up a college fund for a grandchild. I went into a local sport memorabilia shop with what I thought was the crown of my collection, the Carl Hubbell/ Lefty Gomez baseball. I was offered $25.00. When I turned it down, the owner said, “It’s not worth more than that, they jointly signed a lot of those balls,” which I knew was not true. Then a friend of mine, a well-known sports columnist, gave me the name of a person involved in the business.
This individual offered me $50.00. Result: I still have all of my collection. (Any offers?)
I hope my wife doesn’t throw them out during one of her house cleaning frenzies, as my mother did to my baseball card collection.
Last year, I was invited to a wedding on a cruise. Each day, there was an art auction, including some of those ubiquitous shirts signed by athletes. After the auction, I approached the manager and told him about my collection, thinking at least he would want to discuss it with me. “Not interested,” I was told.
So my first question for someone smarter than me is: Why is mass produced more valuable than uniquely authentic?
Another question is: Why are fans willing to spend hard earned dollars to travel to far away cities to see a ballgame that they can see better on TV in their homes?
The third question is a two-part one: Why do fans spend big bucks for a Jeter (who refused to go to the All-Star Game, the game created for the fans) 3000th hit memento, even though they had no part in making it happen; and has Jeter, always looked up to as the flawless baseball personality, now diminished his aura of “Mr. Perfect” by hawking dirt, thus maybe proving that he is just like too many other multi-millionaire athletes, whose motto seems to be: money is more important than dignity, even though they have enough money to last several lifetimes?
What sports needs are more heroes like another shortstop, Honus Wagner, the great Pittsburgh Pirate player. In 1909, some people believe that Wagner, a non-smoker, objected to his baseball card being included in a tobacco promotion because he did not want to set a bad example for children.
Maybe true, maybe not. But it’s still a better image than many of today’s athletes, whose resumes includes drinking, doping, sexual indiscretions, criminal records and changing their uniform shirts multiple times during a ballgame so they can be sold to hero-worshipping fanatics.
My last question is: What makes a sports fanatic tick?
One question I’ll never have to ask is: What is a sports fanatic?
As for me, I will pass on my collection, rather than sell it dirt cheap; even though many people seem eager to spend a bundle on dirt that Jeter’s spikes might not have touched while rounding the bases or fielding a grounder in his game of games.
There’s an old baseball expression that applies to a shortstop or second baseman during a double play.
They may have not actually touched second base but, “they were in the area.”
How much of the dirt being peddled was “in the area?” Only the sandman knows.
* * *
Arthur Solomon is a former senior VP at Burson-Marsteller, where handled national and international accounts. He is available at [email protected]. |