Wes Westrum could have been talking about collecting baseball memorabilia when he said, “Baseball is like church. Many attend but few understand.” In 1970 my father took me to Fenway Park for my first game. I was seven. He bought me a Red Sox pennant and pins of Yaz, Tony C. and Reggie Smith. I was hooked that day. And I have never lost my passion for all things baseball. I recently found a picture from that day. I'm holding the pennant with the pins attached to my shirt. I too have some valuable items. However, much of my collection only has meaning/value to me. Today those pins are in my safe laying next to a pair of Hank Aaron's spikes (thanks again Dad).
My eclectic collection reflects my love of baseball and it's history in general. I'm a social worker. My pay check limits my ability to own everything I desire. In the past few months I have obtained an R311 Dizzy Dean, multiple 1950's baseball publications, a T3 Fred Clarke, a T200 of Phil Amer., a huge 1979 Pittsburgh World Series banner, a 1938 Goudey Al Lopez, a Diamond Star Paul Waner, Drysdale and Kouax Flasher pins, a 1943 news photo of the AAGSBL, and two 7-11 cups featuring Clemente and Aaron. Obviously there is nothing exotic or rare in this group of items. Especially in comparison to what I routinely see on display here. However, they are reflective of my taste, my budget, and my madness.
Perhaps if my interest in this hobby was more narrowly defined I would feel the pangs of jealousy when viewing the beautiful items others post here. Do I wish that I had similar disposable income? Absolutely, however, I think it could also serve to dampen my enthusiasm. If the desire to collect is generated only by financial consideration the joy is lost. I can honestly say that I would continue to collect even if there was no monetary value involved. Why else would I have saved that tattered pennant and dented pins for 40 years? Nonetheless, I am glad that there are others who share my passion, even if our collections reside in different tax brackets. Unfortunately there seem to be less of us each passing year.
|