It started kind of by accident.
A couple years ago, shortly after Thanksgiving, Theresa asked me if there was anything special I wanted for Christmas, something I wouldn't normally buy for myself. After batting the idea around for a while, I decided to look into sports collectibles. As it turns out, there are a great many websites devoted to just that, and it didn't take me long to hit the mother lode.
"Hey, T, come here and check this out. I think I found something."
"What is it?"
Christmas morning came, and after the traditional orange-frosted Pillsbury danish and a glass of eggnog, we opened the presents. When I unwrapped my last gift, I was in for a surprise. Not only had Theresa gotten me the Bucky Dent ball, she also "threw in" an official 1978 Yankees yearbook, autographed by Mr. October himself, Reggie Jackson.
Let me take a minute here to give you a quick history lesson. Red Sox fans, you might want to skip ahead a few paragraphs, as this won't be a pleasant memory for you.
Are they gone?
Good.
I'm a third-generation New York Yankees fan, I've been following them since I was about five. As with any team, there have been good years and there have been bad years. But without a doubt, the 1978 version of the Bronx Bombers is my absolute favorite for a number of reasons. First of all, it was a team of characters. Billy Martin fighting with George Steinbrenner, Billy Martin fighting with Reggie Jackson, Reggie Jackson fighting with Thurman Munson. A band of brothers this team was not, but once they took the field, their personality clashes (mostly) disappeared and they racked up win after win. The '78 season started poorly though, and by July the Yanks were 14 games behind the despised Boston Red Sox. But things turned around in August, and by the end of the year, the two teams were tied for the division lead. To make a long story short, if it's possible at this point, the Yankees beat the Sox in a single-game playoff and went on to claim their 22nd World Series title.
So I had Dent, Jackson, Munson, and Hunter. Four down, thirty or so to go.
And now, three years later, I'm almost there. It was fairly easy, though not always cheap, to get signed items from high-profile players like Ron Guidry, Willie Randolph, and Goose Gossage. The bench players, little-knowns like Domingo Ramos and George Zeber for example, were a bit harder to find. There are only two players left on my list, pitchers Bob Kammeyer and Larry McCall. Kammeyer died several years ago, and it's been next to impossible to locate any signed memorabilia. That's probably because he only pitched seven games in the majors, and his only notable accomplishment is to have surrendered eight runs in one inning without recording an out, and then receiving $100 from Billy Martin to intentionally hit Cleveland's Cliff Johnson with a pitch. Larry McCall is currently the pitching coach for the Bluefield Orioles, and his major league career was about this same as Kammeyer's, minus the horrific inning and beanball bounty.
Along the way, I've also picked up some other great memorabilia. A signed Mickey Mantle hat. A Jets helmet autographed by the entire Super Bowl III team. Another of my favorite pieces, a signed ticket stub from Dennis Martinez's perfect game against the Dodgers, a game that I attended. Martinez autographed it for me when I met him the following season. I'm a purist at heart -- the autographs I got in person are more valuable to me than those I've simply purchased online.
Which brings us to last week, when I received a one-of-a-kind item, something that has immediately taken center stage in my office. It wasn't a Bob Kammeyer or Larry McCall baseball. It wasn't a pair of Marilyn Monroe's underwear autographed by the Yankee Clipper Joe Dimaggio (although that would be awesome). No, it was something far more special.
I'm speaking of course of the Bombers young left fielder, Cam Zirpolo. I have no idea if Cam Zirpolo is a good player or not. For all I know, he rides the pine and only enters the game if one of the elderly Bombers (and there are several) breaks a hip or something. But his name simply begs for an introduction by boxing announcer Michael Buffer.
LLLLLLLLLLLLET'S GET READY FOR SOFTBAAAAAALL! NOW BATTING FOR THE BOMBERS, FROM THE SOFTBALL CITY OF SAUGUS, MASSACHUSETTS! LLLLEFT FIELDER, NUMBER THIRTY-FOUR . . . CAAAAAAMMMM ZZZZZZZZZIRPOLO!
Suldog knows I'm a fan of Cam Zirpolo and the rest of the Bombers, so he sent me a softball signed by the team. Suldog's autograph is there, of course, as is Cam Zirpolo's (you've always got to say the first and last name to retain the "coolness factor" . . . though he did sign the ball "Cameron Zirpolo" which doesn't have quite the same ring to it). Big Jay Atton, Josh Lebrun and Dave Vargas also added their John Hancocks.But I noticed something else. Lots of the Bombers have really shitty handwriting. I mean, seriously, you'd need the Rosetta Stone to decipher some of these scrawls. For instance, take a look at this guy's autograph. Unless he's Chinese (in which case, I humbly apologize), this is just a horrible effort at writing one's name.
Still, I'm proud to add this great artifact to my collection. Thanks, Suldog, and please pass along my appreciation to your teammates along with my best wishes for an outstanding season on the diamond. I look forward to reading about the heroics of all the Bombers . . . the Atton Boys, Joey Baskiewicz, Buddy Carchide.
And especially the Chinese guy.
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