Hilton Smith

My wife and I watch a lot of shows like Pawn Stars and American Pickers. Today, we were watching Auction Hunters, which is a lesser knock off show that seems to fill that desire for antiques and what the stuff in the basement is worth. Obviously, the History Channel shows are much better than Antiques Roadshow, which is dull and filled with characters that have none of the charm of Frank, Mike, or Chum Lee.
In the end, you either have star power, or you have the hope of people bringing in interesting merchandise.
Today, some guy brought in a collection of Negro Leagues merchandise complete with Jackie, Hank, + Satchel. My wife informed me that I would have been drooling if they brought them in for me to consign. She's right. When it was appraised, the Negro Leagues expert said that the Hilton Smith autograph would have fetched big cash - $400 - if they had someone who knew who he was, so in remembering him, but not really remembering him, I looked him up, and here's what the Major Leagues Hall of Famer did:
In 1941, he went 25-1 for the Kansas City Monarchs. In the words of Crash Davis, that's a career. Hell, in each of his 12 years with the Monarchs, he hit 20 games won. Granted, it's hard to figure out all of the stats from the days in the Negro Leagues due to poor transcribing and accumulation of said statistics, but with that alone, he's awesome. However, he played in the shadows of Satchel, and as we all know, Mr. Paige was larger than life and left quite a shadow.
Nevertheless, he pitched in 6 East - West All Star games and whiffed thirteen batters in these shows to show off his "swagger" as one of the greatest pitchers of his day.
Against the white teams that the Negro Leagues stars would play against to show how great they could have been had mixed competition been allowed, Smith went 6-1.
When it was all said and done, he was a scout for the Chicago Cubs. As a result, even though he never made it to the Major Leagues, he made sure other people did.
Even more importantly, he worked as a teacher, sharing his life with young people, who could benefit from his knowledge and experience.
Does that make his autograph worth $400? Considering it was packaged with other autographs, pennants, and memorabilia, I would say that the $175 it fetched at auction was quite nice and it made the gentleman who gave it up to earn money for a missionary trip to the Ivory Coast all the more happy when he got $1200 after the auctioneers took 20% off of the original $1500 paid for all of it.

Dizzy and Paul Dean

My wife is obsessed with American Pickers. There's no getting around it. We watch that and Pawn Stars on a regular basis, which to be honest are some of the only shows that we watch.
Last night, they picked up a much rougher version of this poster, which was more faded, and to be honest with you, it looked a hell of a lot better than the colorized version that is on the left.
That said, I was salivating despite the fact that I know that I can't afford it, and even if I did, I wouldn't have much of a place to put it without upsetting the delicate balance of the house that is decorated rather nicely, but all in all, is not geared much for antique baseball posters - no matter how great the subjects are, and let me just say one more time that this poster really is nice.
That being said, I have managed to weasel my way into having some of my baseball memorabilia in the main part of the house that isn't my office. For instance, my Mark McGwire McFarland figures in the living room. The first one is common, but the second one is unique in that he posed for it and then retired, so Todd McFarland left the prototype in my cousin David's office (he takes pictures of the figures for the website, or at least he did at the time - I would assume he still does) until he gave it to me. When he did, I was orgasmic. That's pretty much what happens when you get a baseball card that you need... though a real orgasm is better than that. Well, at least that's what my mom told me when I was in 6th grade. There's something about collecting baseball stuff that makes boys of men. My friend that I work with purposely drives himself crazy not opening too many packs of baseball cards at one time in order to leave him more surprises for later. I fall asleep and dream of opening cards. I don't collect regularly, but as happened the other night, I still dream of wax packs.
When I open cards, I always want my favorites. That's obvious. I can't say as I'm obsessed with all of the players on all of my teams, but more often than not, the Cardinals and Red Sox come up solid. In that, a part of me has always been a St. Louis Cardinals fan. Granted, I wasn't alive for the Gashouse Gang when Dizzy Dean was winning 150 games and posting a 3.02 career ERA despite World War 2 and injuries putting an end to his better days. Nevertheless, he is officially the final National League pitcher EVER to win 30 games (because unless a pitcher is uninjured and unbeaten, it will never happen again. Hell, 25 is damn near impossible enough). Granted, his brother Daffy, well Paul by birth certificate, was more pedestrian, but they were St. Louis in the same way that guys like Ozzie Smith and Mark McGwire were in their day and ages and in the same way that Albert Pujols is now.
And maybe as a Cardinals fan, I should just lay this on the line: If there be any doubt, the town of St. Louis and the state of Missouri should start collecting taxes to save the baseball club before anyone does anything stupid like deciding not to make the contract work. Albert is the Cardinals. If Matt Holliday got a contract for $120 million, Albert deserves at least $240 million. At least. And don't even get me started on Ryan Howard's laughable contract (because if it's a new day, it's a new opportunity to dis on Mighty Ryan).
Such is the state of life and baseball, but with 25 days to go until the deal must be done, the deal must be done. Oh yes...