Cross-category gem: A circa 1900 Unidentified Baseball Game Spinner in the April Sports Auction

April 7, 2009
Posted by Noah

This is one of those things that’s just plain cool that I like to dig through our catalogs for. It’s enigmatic, artistic, bespeaks an era unto itself and looks like it’d simply be a lot of fun to play with. It’s also in our April 23-34 Signature Sports Auction, which features a ton of great stuff. What this thing is, exactly, is hard to say. It’s obviously a baseball game of some kind from around 1900, and it’s obviously well made. It doubles as baseball memorabilia and American folk art alike, and I’d love to get my grubby little paws on it.

Jonathon Scheier, one of the sports consignment directors – and a writer I am trying to recruit to post occasionally to this blog - wrote the catalog description for it, which is quite good:

“Try as we might, we've been unable to solve the mystery of this beguiling game piece, a rather ingenious and fully-functional toy that simply oozes Dead Ball Era charm. A four and a half inch batter, complete with high-collared jersey and wide-handed grip, is spun into place against the resistance of a coiled spring. A push of a button releases the batter's powerful swing, and the bat smacks a small roulette wheel with a satisfying ‘ping,’ causing it to spin at a high rate of speed. An arrow points to one of a number of random scenarios when the wheel stops, signifying hits, outs, balls, strikes and home runs. It's definitely one of the most attractive and outright cool game pieces we've ever encountered for the sport of baseball, certain to pique the interest of many a collector with a concentration in the field...”

In the field, or out of it, I might add again, as this thing would fit as well in a hobby memorabilia shop as it would on the floor of a high-end Northeastern U.S. antiques show. I saw more than a few oddities like this little beauty on that circuit, and this thing has all the hallmarks of working beautifully across any number of categories.

It reminds me of the games my brother Cris and I would play as kids, drafting players from our baseball cards and rolling dice to signify hits and strikes and outs. We later switched to Mattel Intellivision Baseball, where we played the game as our respective teams and players and kept in-depth stats. I once had a team that, if I remember, had Gary Carter, Thurman Munson, Jim Sundberg, Buddy Bell and Catfish Hunter. On one magic, blisteringly hot 1979 afternoon – the baseball gods smiling on me – I managed to play a perfect (video) game against my brother with this team. It was a rare victory for me, let alone in such spectacular fashion. It led to my brother smashing his fist on the game console, ripping up his stat sheet and then punching me in the arm several times before sticking a finger in my face and telling me never EVER to talk about this again.

It was akin to having an opponent wreck the board in the middle of a game of chess because he had an obviously losing position. I never had that pleasure in my competitive chess playing days, but I know the pleasure from watching my brother freak that sun-bleached July day. We never played the game again, but I can still show you exactly where the three bruises from his knuckles appeared on my left arm.

Check out the spinner here. A real beauty in an auction full of amazing stuff.

Goin’ ‘Shoeless’ at Heritage: Trove of tainted ‘Black Sox’ player in April

March 31, 2009
Posted by Noah

“Shoeless” Joe Jackson is one of those guys who lives on as much in infamy as legend. He stands among the most brilliant baseball players to ever step on a diamond, and as one of the most cursed. The former cannot be disputed. The latter, however, is rightfully the subject of much debate. The fact, though, is that we’re auctioning off some very cool Joe Jackson stuff – and I don’t mean the singer of Steppin’ Out – in the April Sports Auction. For the right collector – that brave soul who loves the sport as much for its black eyes as for its glory – these are must-have items.

I’ve always been a fan of the underdog – I took 16-seed Radford to win the NCAA Tourney this year – so it may not come as a surprise that I always believed Joe Jackson was framed. Also, how can you not love a guy whose nickname is “Shoeless?” The most telling fact of his innocence, though, is in his statistics during that notorious 1919 World Series. They went up. It seems so simple, doesn’t it? Would a guy trying to hand the Series to Cincinnati play better in a situation that depended on the best players intentionally playing worse? I don’t buy it. If I had about $100,000, however, I’d certainly buy the 1914 Boston Garters Joe Jackson baseball card that’s part of the trove.

Another key lot in the several that constitute this mythic corner of baseball history is a 1908 Greenville Spinners team photograph featuring an impossibly young version of the soon-to-be slugger and pariah. It is his first gig, the year before he was called to the majors, and eventually stardom, by Connie Mack, and Jackson is raw. What’s impressive about him in the photo is the raw physicality he conveys, a diamond in the rough. He’s ready to break out, if not ready for the challenges and pitfalls of fame, which took him considerably longer to master. It’s a beauty of a piece, and at around $20,000, I’d say well worth it. Something Cooperstown should be interested in, even if it represents a supposed stain on the game. (Jackson was never convicted of any wrongdoing, by the way. MLB had already made up its mind as to his culpability.)

In the photo, the team mascot sits right at Jackson's right foot, if you don't already know what he looks like.

“This is the first ever to reach the hobby's auction block,” said Chris Ivy, “and the first we've ever encountered, period.”

It’s an amazing look at the innocence of youth before the influence of fame and fortune, and scandal, make it all dissolve into a bitter mask of indifference.

As for the other Joe Jackson, the singer from the 1980s, I have seen him in concert at least a dozen times and his albums – from 1977’s I’m The Man up through 1986’s Big World – remain a staple in my music rotation. His longtime bass player, Graham Mabe (pronounced “Maybe”) is the very best of his generation and is the reason I learned to play the bass guitar. I had the chance to interview Joe for Goldmine Magazine last year, and found him to be a very forthright person, a good interviewee and a very outspoken advocate for Smoker’s Rights. No kidding. Still, he rocks.