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Paul MuchinskyA beauty of a ball! Get ready to be ill. A colleague of mine had no interest at all in sports, but knew I did. He asked me if I could help him identify two signed baseballs. They came from his uncle, who was a distributor for Coca Cola. He had Yankee Stadium as an account. Within about 15 minutes, armed with a book of team rosters, based on the signatures on the balls, one was of the 1956 Yankees, the other was the 1961 Yankees. However, the balls were far from mint condition. In fact, both had significant gouge marks. I excitedly told him the dates of the balls, and their significance in baseball history. He could care less. I then asked him about the origin of the gouge marks. In the past he had had a puppy, and these balls served as chew toys for the young dog. I started to turn green. It gets worse. There was a third ball. One morning the dog was outside on a leash. It starts to mildly rain. The dog starts to whine. Not wanting to bring the dog in because the rain was more of a mist, he tosses the third ball to the dog. The dog is delighted. About one hour later both the dog and the ball re-enter the house. The dog is damp and is toweled off. However, the ball is now a blur of blue ink that is running, and to prevent the ink from possibly getting on living room furniture, he throws the ball away.
The next day I went to a local hobby shop and bought two of those clear plastic ball holders. The next day I return to his office to place the two remaining balls in their cases to prevent further damage. I didn't even ask him to reimburse me the whopping $6 I just put out to help preserve some baseball history. He was totally unimpressed with my effort, my generosity, and why I would make such a big deal out of a former dog toy. I got my revenge. On the way out of his office, in front of two secretaries, I said in a loud, clear voice, "Thanks for letting me examine your balls". The secretaries giggled, he blushed, and I kept on walking.
Paul