Trading in Memories Has Become Big Business

Gather ‘round boys and girls and listen to a story. Once upon a time, baseball players scribbled their names on bats and balls and programs for free.

They didn’t even expect a smile in return.

Honest.

“No way,” said Matthew Green, a 12-year-old from Mount Laurel, N.J. “That’s fantasy, man. You’ve got to pay for this. It’s more interesting this way. Now, everyone can’t have an autograph. They have to pay for it.”

Welcome to nostalgia in the 1980s, where every name has a price and every baseball card has market value.

Green, and thousands of other baseball fans ranging from tots to senior citizens, paid a $5 admission fee, plus a hefty starcharge, for the privilege of receiving autographs from 13 certifiable legends recently. The 11 living members of baseball’s 500 home-run club, plus Pete Rose and Duke Snider, sat at tables and signed thousands of autographs for the mob at the Tropworld casino.

“The players bring their hands and their names,” said Kevin Meyers, one of the more than 200 sports memorabilia and baseball card dealers who worked the show. “I think you could sell anything with a player on it. This is a big business of 800 (phone) numbers and credit cards.”

The collection of home run hitters was breathtaking: Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Reggie Jackson, Mike Schmidt, Eddie Mathews, Harmon Killebrew, Ernie Banks, Frank Robinson, Willie McCovey and Ted Williams.

This was a living wing of the Hall of Fame, and no one seemed to mind that two active managers (Robinson and Rose), one active player (Schmidt) and one prominent club official (Aaron) were being paid a reported $15,000 and up by an outside promoter to work a holiday weekend in two ballrooms one flight above a gambling hall.

“If I’m on the street and ask a player for his autograph, I’m afraid I’ll have to pay him money,” said Michael Puzzo, a collectible dealer from Allentown, Pa. “I kind of feel sorry for these kids waiting on these long lines. But this business will only get bigger. This is pop culture. These players are the movie stars of the 20th and 21st centuries.”

Autograph prices were staggering: from $7 for a Killebrew, Mathews, or Snider signature, to $30 for a Mantle or Williams signature, to $150 for the complete 13-player package.

“I can’t believe I’m here, but to my son, it’s worth it,” said Nancy Calvitti, who was shepherding her 14-year-old son, Anthony, through the crowd. The Calvittis, from Chalfont, Pa., bought the Super Ticket.

“What I don’t mind about this hobby is that he can do it for the rest of his life,” she said. “I was actually happy to see these players. They’re all legends.”

Some of the legends were mystified by the autograph process. Williams, with six pens and magic markers scattered in front of him on a table, kept his head down and mechanically signed baseball cards, pictures and balls. Mantle wandered aimlessly around the hall, occassionally smiling. Banks cheerfully thanked each youngster. Robinson appeared studious. Mays seemed annoyed.

“It’s not easy signing your name 400 times,” Robinson said.

Said Aaron: “My first year in the big leagues I made $5,000, and now I’m making more than that in one weekend. This is just crazy.”

Not really. Check these prices: $5,000 for a Babe Ruth bat, $12 for a 1969 Brooks Robinson card, $30 for a New York Mets record album that includes such standards as “Green Grass of Shea,” and $1 million for a 1932 Charles “Lindy” Lindstrom card, a one of a kind trinket from a United States Caramel Company collection.

“I’m amazed how far these bubble gum cards have come,” McCovey said. “I didn’t know there were that many people out there with that big a collection.”

Note to McCovey: Baseball card trading is now a $125 million-a-year industry, with four major companies and thousands of dealers cashing in on nostalgia. The Baseball Card Society recently began selling stock at 4 cents a share.

“Ten years ago, I brought seven Hank Aaron rookie cards for $15 each and I wondered if I was crazy,” said Bill Huggins, a partner in House of Cards of Wheaton, Md. “Now, the cards are worth $700 apiece. The market for cards has fallen slightly twice, once in 1981 and another time last year. But you’d be surprised how many little kids pull out $50 and $100 bills from their socks. That keeps this going.”

The kids were everywhere at this show, waiting patiently on line, thumbing through the stacks of cards laid out on tables. Millions of cards, neatly arranged, all priced, packaged and ready for sale.

The three McDonnell brothers of Manchester, N.J., ended their day with four complete sets of 1988 cards. They tossed out the bubble gum and priced their cards with the aid of a booklet. Background noise was supplied by the slot machines downstairs.

“A Jose Canseco rookie card goes for $75,” said Rob, 15, a high school sophomore. “But if he has a bad year, the price of the card can go down. They move so easily.”

It’s called supply and demand.

“The cards are worth a lot,” said Mark, 11, a fifth grader. “My dad told me he used to have a Mickey Mantle rookie card but he traded it away as a kid. Now, that card is worth $6,000. He could have hit the jackpot.”

This is commerce.

“In the last 15 years, baseball cards have gone up 200 to 300%,” said Fred Davies of Big League Promotions Inc., in Deal, N.J. “But that’s not a true value. The card price guides inflated prices, and some $20 cards became $4,000 cards. But true collectibles, autographed photographs, books and letters, never go out of style. The reason is because more people relate to baseball than any other sport. You couldn’t do this kind of show with football cards.”

Even Reggie Jackson, unable to sign autographs because of an accident that left him with a cast on his left hand, was awestruck by the company of stars and the corps of kids.

“No other country has a Ted Williams, a Mickey Mantle or a Willie Mays,” Jackson said. “I mean, look at Ted Williams, that man is Paul Bunyan in real life. I’d pay for his autograph. If fans will pay for autographs, then they must be worth it.”

Once, fathers and sons played catch. Now, they play the card and autograph market, buying memories and history. Only a few appear to comprehend that true memories can’t be bought and sold.

“I know others would sell this autograph, but I won’t,” John Hynes, a 12-year-old from Tenafly, N.J., said after emerging from the Robinson line with a signed baseball. “The value you have is something your own. I’ll always remember this, and keep this ball.”