All-Star Summer: Auction

A baseball memorabilia auction, conducted by the fine folks at Hunt Auctions LLC, was held on the last day of FanFest.  With pre-auction estimates on hundreds of items ranging from $100 up to $250,000, there was something up for bid at every price point in between.  Much of what went onto the auction block that day was of the rare, one-of-a-kind, museum-quality variety.  The day before the auction, I perused the display cases hopeful for finding low-budget pieces of memorabilia I might want for my own humble collection.

On the morning of July 14 - auction day and the day of the 86th Midsummer Classic - Lou and I staked out a prime viewing spot at the back of the room.  We acquired nothing but information and experience and who can put a value on that?

Here is one item that was well beyond my budget, a gold Longines pocket watch and presentation box given to Cincinnati Reds pitcher Bucky Walters in honor of him being named the 1939 National League MVP.  William Henry "Bucky" Walters played 11 years for the Redlegs, from 1938 to 1948.  His Major League career began in 1931 as a third baseman with the Boston Braves.  In 1934 and '35, playing for Philadelphia (NL), Walters was converted into a pitcher.  Traded to the Reds during the 1938 season, Bucky went 11-6 for the Reds.  For Cincinnati's National League pennant-winning season in '39, Bucky compiled a record of 27-11, leading the NL in strikeouts (137) and leading the Majors in wins (27), ERA (2.29), complete games (31) and innings pitched (319).  His Longines watch sold for $27,000.  I placed no bids.

For the Reds 1940 World Championship season, Bucky Walters went 22-10.  His 22 wins paced the NL as did the 29 complete games and 305 innings he threw that season.  Bucky led the Majors in '40 in with his 2.48 ERA.  In 1941, he went 19-15 while again leading the League in complete games (27) and innings pitched (302).  Bucky's last great season with the Reds came in 1944 when his win-loss record for the year stood at 23-8.

According to what I learned while viewing Bucky Walters' Longines watch, in the 1920s and 1930s players were permitted to select the type of award they were to be presented with when winning a League MVP.  This was news to me.  Approximately five minutes after becoming aware of this fact, I went agog when seeing in the neighboring display case Ernie Lombardi's National League MVP award for 1938:

A Browning Arms Company 12 gauge shotgun! 

Must.  Have.  Lombardi.  Shotgun. was all I could hear booming in my ears.  But then the $25,000-$35,000 auction estimate crushed my hopes, dreams and aspirations.  I mentioned in All-Star Summer:  HOF Exhibit that you really must read what Bill James had to write about Ernie Lombardi.  A truly amazing sports figure, blessed with exceptional talent and achieving tremendous success but also an individual dogged for decades by unfair criticisms.  After his playing career - which ended where you might least expect - Lombardi disappeared from public life for many years, people in baseball had assumed he'd long since passed away until... well, you'll need to read the book to find out where he was discovered and what happened after Lombardi re-entered public life.  The Lombardi shotgun sold for a cool $20,000.

World Series, League Championship and All-Star team rings also were up for bid.

Not a player ring, this 1990 Cincinnati Reds World Champions ring lacked the diamonds and rubies of, say, Barry Larkin and Jose Rijo.  Still, the ring fetched a sale price of $5,500.  With each passing year, World Series rings become larger and more flashy and I have an obvious bias for the Reds but I think this is just about the best-looking World Series ring.  Diamond wishbone "C," red ruby background.  Sharp!   when you have the opportunity, check out the full-bling version of this '90 ring that Eric Davis had made for himself; he wears it often and it is something to behold.

And how about the Babe Ruth Award for Outstanding Batting Achievement given to Peter Edward Rose?!  With a pre-auction range of $50,000 to $75,000, it sold for a bargain at only $32,000.  This hardware could be worn to work every day!  Just imagine, you'd be the envy of.... ummm.....

There were, of course, hundreds upon hundreds of non-Cincinnati Reds items up for bid, too.

In an auction jam-packed with impressive memorabilia, this collection of WW2 Naval aviation uniforms, etc. from Boston Red Sox shortstop Johnny Pesky generated much interest.  Pesky was a career .307 hitter, and was a teammate and friend of Ted Williams.  This lot of items rightly exceeded its pre-sale estimate and entered some bidder's collection for $2,000.

In the world of collecting, each of us has our own personal area(s) of interest and range of expertise.  As such, some things will catch the eye of one collector as being exceptional or rare or valuable that may not stand out to others.  Some things may be exceptional or valuable or of interest only to a select few, or one.  Among the lessons learned from junk collectors/television personalities Mike Wolfe (pronounced "Woof"), Frank Fritz and the lovely but tattooed beyond all recognition Danielle is that the time to buy a rare and/or unique item is when it's right in front of you.  You may never again have the opportunity to acquire such an item and the cost of acquisition, premium though it might be, has to be accepted.

The auction item which first caught my eye and which I returned to most often was lot #262, below:

A brass presentation plaque, more than a foot across, given by the United Nations Command Head Quarters in Korea to Joe DiMaggio for, one presumes, services performed as part of a USO tour during the war.  Although not stated, there may somewhere exist a clay model, perhaps an artist's proof.  But this must certainly be a one-of-its-kind item.

As many of you know, Mr B served in Korea during the Korean War.  Growing up a baseball fan in the Boston area during the 1930s and 1940s, Dad and his pals would on occasion take in a day of Red Sox baseball at Fenway Park or Braves baseball at Braves Field, for they were mostly day games back then, to root-on Ted Williams or Warren Spahn.  Teddy Ballgame was and remains Mr B's all-time favorite ballplayer.  I'd like to see my good friend Kuertz try to persuade Mr B that Zack Cozart is a better hitter than Ted Williams.  Dad has seen them both.  During the 1930s, my Italian grandfather would only deign to spend for baseball tickets what little Great Depression-era money the family had when Joe DiMaggio and the New York Yankees came to town to play the Sox.  Dad has seen every baseball player to play the game, National and American Leagues, since the mid-to-late 1930s (minus a few cups of coffee) and despite his favoritism for Ted Williams, Mr B will also readily tell you that the Yankee Clipper is the greatest player he ever saw.  [In the 1940s, Dad and his school friends would skip school, take the train to NYC for a day game at Yankee Stadium, or the Polo Grounds, or Ebbets Field to watch the Yankees and Giants and Dodgers play and, thanks to a faster pace of play in those days, be back home in the afternoon so as to not arouse suspicions of having skipped out.] 

With all these familial experiences knocking around in the deepest recesses of my memory, I felt this was an auction item I needed to monitor closely and, American Pickers credo in mind, be ready to bid upon if the opportunity for my meager purchasing power surfaced.  The estimated pre-sale range was for $1,000-$2,000. If realized, that would be to dear a price for me and - at any rate - I wasn't carrying around with me that kind of jack at the All-Star Game FanFest.  But if it could go for less....?  

From my limited experience with auctions, I understand you have to set a firm limit and not allow yourself or your bankroll to be swept up in the moment.  The bidding was tepid yet when the asking surpassed the few hundred I had in my pocket it became, for me, a moot point.

Frustratingly, the DiMaggio plaque sold for about half it's minimum estimate, going for $550.  Some attentive bidder with initiative got a steal.  My compliments.

The majority of items up for bid at the All-Star Game FanFest auction came from the collection of Johnny Bench.  JB was in the house!

Lou took a few dozen photos of the All-Century Team catcher.  And why wouldn't you?

As the Hunt Co. auctioneers worked their way through the catalog, JB moved to take a seat in the front row:

 

 

From our vantage point at the back of the room, Lou was able to zoom-in his camera lens and take photographs of the catalog's pages as Johnny perused through them.

Here, Johnny examines some of his own All-Star Game rings as they were being auctioned.  Bench donated the items from his collection as a means to raise money in order to benefit the Johnny Bench Foundation.  For whatever purpose that seeks to assist.  The protection of blue emus?

The biggest item, in terms of its physical size, which crossed the auction block from the JB Collection was the nearly life-sized painting of Bench by noted painter Leroy Neiman.  It did not sell, evidently failing to reach its reserve price.

During the proceedings, a woman walked up to Johnny Bench and handed him a note.

Thoughtfully, JB held up the note so that Lou could employ max-zoom and take a spyshot of its contents.  Espionage!  Intrigue!

Contrast!  Balance!  Tone!  Transmogrification!

We think it says:

 

Can you get this to JB and ask him to sign for me [undetermined].

Roll the credits!

Charlie Brown: Winning May Not Be Everything But Losing Isn't Anything

While there may be no crying in baseball, to borrow another quote, these are sad days in Wrigleyville as Jude's youthful Cubbies face elimination from the NLCS, tonight and every night henceforth, at the hands of the Metropolitans.

Back on September 30th Lou and I attended the Reds-Cubs tilt down at the ol' GABP Tiltyard, sitting in the Scout Seats compliments of my sister-in-law Alison's corporate employer.  Herewith are a few photos from that evening's ballgame:

Above, Cubs first baseman Frank Chance Anthony Rizzo bats.  There is no truth to the rumor that Tony Rizzo is named for Coop's cat.  Did somebody axe, Marty, for a close-up of Rizzo?

Among the half-dozen or so rookies that populate the Cubs 25-man roster these days is a native of Middletown, Ohio named Charlie Root Kyle Schwarber.

Kyle played his college ball at some college in Bloomington, Indiana.  His coach there was Tracy Smith, formerly of Miami University and a close personal friend of The Incomparable Joe Wilhelm.  Schwarber hits some prodigious blasts.  I have nicknamed Kyle The Middletown Masher. 

I had tickets to the following afternoon's 12:35pm Business Day Special and invited Jude to go but he big-timed me, his natural instinct to evade me being so strong that it eclipses his desire to watch his club play in person.

Going further back in time, I also had tickets for the September 11th game marking the 30th anniversary of the night Peter Edward Rose broke Ty Cobb's all-time record for lifetime hits.

And look who graced the Reds season tickets that night, the Hit King hizzelf!  Jude was at that record-breaking game, 30 years ago.  Joe was not. 

I brought along with me to that night's game my lucky garden gnome:

Before the evening turned dreary with drizzle, I caught glimpse of a type of watercraft rarely seen on these parts of the mighty Ohio River:

 

That's a WW2-vintage LST landing craft.  Pretty cool.  I valiantly resisted thinking back to the days when our beloved Delta Queen would moor at Cincinnati's public landing, just beyond the ballpark's Sun Deck, and merrily toot its calliope.  OK, I'm getting choked up now.

The weather and Reds were lousy that Friday night, so me and the garden gnome split when the game was halted for a rain delay that ultimately turned into a postponement.  By the time the game was officially postponed, we were enjoying a post-game milkshake:

I've stopped going to the Steak and Shake in Kuertz' neighborhood for my ritual post-game milkshake, the wait for service is interminable around midnight.  And as good as they are at Sn'S, Graeter's makes a shake that is unsurpassable.

In the parking lot at Graeter's that rainy night, I snapped a photo that is, I think, appropriately evocative of the Reds 2015 rain-delay and loss-filled season, as well as being imminently suggestive of what's going to transpire in the Friendly Confines this week.

An overhead security light in the Graeter's parking lot illuminated the cascade of rain drops slipping down the Jeep Main Battle Tank's windshield, painting an ever-shifting portrait of sky-born tears onto the dashboard and upon my parking pass to that night's postponement.    

Roll the credits!

All-Star Summer: HOF Exhibit

When last we met, you gazed upon my ruggedly handsome visage as captured in the FanFest grand ballroom selfie.  When in the act of selfie-izing myself for that photograph, directly in front of me was the National Baseball Hall of Fame exhibit.  You know I hit that up!  Let's a take a look, shall we?

As one might have guessed, the HOF exhibit featured a preponderance of Cincinnati Reds-related artifacts.  In the display case seen above, the two most prominent items are the George Foster road jersey from his 1977 MVP season, at left, and the Joey Votto home jersey from his 2010 MVP season.  A few brief comparative statistics:

In 1977 George "the Assassin" Foster batted .320/.382/.631 with 197 hits, 52 home runs and 149 RBI.  Foster led the League that season in runs scored, home runs, RBI and slugging percentage.  Foster's 52 homers in '77 was the only occurrence of a 50+ homer season in MLB between 1965, when Willie Mays blasted 52 home runs, and 1990 when Cecil Fielder hit 50.  When Foster hit those 52 bombs in 1977, his total for that season then ranked 7th all-time (tied with Mickey Mantle ['56] and Willie Mays ['65])!  Now - thanks to A. Bartlett "Bug" [sic] Selig and the so-called Steroid Era - Willie, Mickey and The Assassin are all tied for twenty-seventh!  Ridiculous.

Fun fact; George Foster is the favorite ballplayer of loyal subscriber Kuertz.

In 2010 Joey "the Canadian Club" Votto batted .324/.424/.600 with 177 hits, 37 home runs and 113 RBI.  That season, Votto led the world in on-base percentage and led the National League in slugging.  That .424 OBP in 2010 does not even rank in the top 500 all-time single season on-base percentages (to be fair, Joey's .435 in 2013 ranks 382nd all-time and the .459 OBP he produced this season ranks 134th all-time.  Among active players, only Bryce Harper [.460 in 2015] and Albert Pujols [.461 in 2008] have surpassed Votto's high-watermark in OBP).

Fun fact; Joey Votto is the least favorite ballplayer of loyal subscriber Kuertz.

As for me, I am blotto for Votto!  Some of you saw that coming.

Back in the late 1970s and early 1980s the mighty Reds wore green uniforms for St Patrick's Day during spring training.  These days, they wear only green caps.  It's one of the few missteps of the Robert (he let's me call him "Bob") Castellini era.  In the display case above you see a Johnny Bench St Patrick's Day jersey.  I have a replica that I wear for special baseball occasions.  One certain Cub-fan element in Boone, NC disapproves.  To the left of the JB jersey was placed a facsimile HOF plaque for Bill McKechnie, manager of the Reds for their 1940 championship season.  If you look closely, you will see that my own reflection has seemingly been superimposed onto the Hall of Fame plaque.  I'd like to take credit for that bit of ingenuity but it was no more than a happy accident. 

For Reds fans of a certain ancient demographic, Ernie Lombardi (whose game-used mitt from '38 you see above) was the greatest-ever Cincinnati catcher.  Lombardi, known as "the Schnozz" for his prominent proboscis, won two National League batting titles - batting .342 in 1938 and .330 in 1942 - and was awarded the National League MVP in 1938.  To give you some idea of his consistency as a hitter; in 1935 he batted .343, in 1936 .333, and .334 in 1937.  In a 17-year career, Lombardi batted .290 or better 12 times.  Missing that arbitrary cut-off were seasons of .283 in 1933, .287 in 1939 and .282 in 1947.  That paesano could rake!

Ernie also had a Heavy Artillery-approved cannon for a throwing arm, seven times finishing among the top five NLers for caught stealing percentage, leading the senior circuit in 1938 with 60%.

Lombardi was known as much for his immobility (leading the League in passed balls nine times) and slowness afoot.  His hulking 6 '3" frame carried 230 pounds early in his career and, by some estimates, approached 300 .lbs by the end of his Major League playing career.  Period accounts assert that Lombardi could have hit .400 if only he could have legged out some ground balls.  To the outfield. 

Lombardi was not the first National League catcher to have won a batting title, not even the first Cincinnati Red catcher to have achieved such an honor.  In 1926, Eugene Franklin "Bubbles" Hargrave became the first NL catcher to win a batting title when his robust .353 batting average set the pace.  I should add to that description controversially set the pace.  Awards standards then being different than they are today, that '26 season Bubbles had but 366 plate appearances, far short of the minimum standards we have today.  Somewhat less robust was the physical stature of Bubbles, Baseball-Reference lists Bubbles as 5' 10" and 175 pounds.  This in an era when catchers were fair game for being run over, flattened and/or blown up when blocking the plate.  Routinely.  Unlike today's weak-sister catchers like Buster Posey whom, if a runner even looks at him with both eyes, MLB will craft volumes of rules protecting Buster and his pathetic ilk from such threatening situations.  And tell Buster's mommy, too.

The most informative thing you can read about the remarkable life, times, playing- and post-career of Ernie Lombardi is found in Bill James' New Historical Baseball Abstract.  Read it today!  You'll be, in turns, both stunned and amazed.

Among the multitude of MLB records that never will be broken, include Cincinnati Red Johnny Vander Meer's consecutive no-hitters thrown in 1938.  To beat the record, a pitcher will have to toss three consecutive no-hitters.  No chance.  The baseball on display, above, was used in the first of Vandy's no-hit gems. 

Boy, you're thinking, that '38 Reds club must have been pretty good!  In 1938 the Redlegs finished the season 6 games out... and in fourth place.  But in '39 the Reds were NL Champs, losing in the World Series to the Joe DiMaggio-led, Lou Gehrig-inspired New York Yankees.  Therein also lies but one of the fascinating tales from the astonishing life of Ernie Lombardi.  You'll have to read Bill James to find out why.  In 1940, the Cincinnati Reds were World Champions.  In 1938 the team was just stating to get on a roll.

Going further back into the dusty annals of baseball, here (above) is a baseball used during the Cincinnati Red Stockings historic, undefeated season of 1869.  The ball, undoubtedly, has been "preserved" down through the centuries with varying layers of paint, shellac, varnish, tobacco juice, gum, etc so that it certainly bares an appearance today that it did not in 1869.  Still, how cool is that artifact?

Some think my knowledge of Reds history is encyclopedic.  Yet there are things that I learn every year.  This is one of them.  Never before I had seen a ballcap which had a pair of sunglasses screwed through the bill of the cap.  This cap, circa 1931, was worn by Reds center fielder Edd Roush.  Many, including me, consider Edd to be the greatest Red of the first half of the twentieth century.  Playing 12 seasons for the Reds, from 1916-1926 and again in 1931, Roush batted .331, leading the NL in batting average in 1917 and 1919 (.341 and .321, respectively) while NOT leading the league with batting averages of .339, .352, .352 again, .351, .348 and .339 again.  That native of the Hoosier state could rake!

Touring the Reds Hall of Fame two months later, I saw a similarly adorned cap from another Red of the same era.  Evidently this was something ballplayers did then but the practice completely escaped me until this summer.

The Hall of Fame exhibit wasn't all Cincinnati Reds.  Here you see the bat with which Ted Williams hit his 521st -and final - home run.  An historic home run and legendary thanks in part to an essay about the event written by author John Updike and titled "Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu."  Both Updike and his essay are famous.  But not well-known to all, as I discovered.  While gazing reverentially upon this sacred artifact, my reverie was broken by an MLB-credentialed photographer who, weighed down with cameras and lenses, sidled up along side me to comment about the bat.  I described to him what he hadn't yet read on the accompanying display card and then casually and perhaps a tad bit snobbishly mentioned the Updike essay.  Mr Photog looked upon me as if suddenly I was speaking an alien language.  Who? he asked for clarification.  Way to go, mister practitioner of the arts.  Score one for the blue collar working stiffs of the world.

The bat is so important in the history of baseball, it's worth another look:

A certain Anglophile well-known to my loyal subscribers thinks Zack Cozart is a better hitter than George Herman "Babe" Ruth.  The Hall of Fame put on display in the exhibit a bat from the Bambino:

There wasn't a single Zack Cozart item on display.  Funny, that.

The bat you see above was used by The Sultan of Swat to hit the 57th and 58th home runs in his then-record setting 1921 season when The Maharaja of Mash blasted 59 homers.  Not only has it taken Zack Cozart his whole career to date to hit as many as 42 home runs, he doesn't even have a single silly-but-awesome nickname.  Ruth had one, seemingly, for every day of the season!

This is a home jersey worn by Cleveland's Hall of Fame second baseman Nap Lajoie, circa 1910.  I like the half-button look, it's very different than anything we've been familiar with over the past half century or so.  The full-collar baseball jersey is not a style I'd like to see return - save that look for my golf/polo shirts - yet the contrasting color is, I think, the only way to make the full-collar jersey fashionable.  I'm curious to hear what my fellow uniform enthusiast, Johnny Dubs aka "the Principle" [sic], thinks about this jersey.

Above is a similarly-styled jersey of the same era worn by New York Giant Christy Mathewson.  Notable about this relic is what the viewer learned by reading the accompanying display card:

Why?

Lastly, this item (below) which illustrates the superiority of the early twentieth century ballplayer as compared with the coddled Buster Posey variants of our modern baseball diamond dandies:

One might think upon initial observance of this glove, Wow!  Imagine having to field with that small apparatus.  Then, that same individual may recall that into the 1890s ballplayers wore no gloves at all.  Cincinnati Red second baseman Bid McPhee being the last Major Leaguer to play without a glove, to toughen his hands, reportedly, he'd soak them in saltwater.  [This is a vastly different approach from that of former Chicago Cub Moises Alou.  Don't ask, you don't really want to know.]  But then, upon closer inspection of the information card adjacent to the glove, a more full impact of the excellence and durability of the old ballplayers is realized.  Worn by Philadelphia Athletics Hall of Fame pitcher Rube Waddell for a July 4, 1905 pitching duel against Boston's Hall of Fame pitcher Cy Young, both starting pitchers went the distance in a titanic 20-inning struggle.  Today, it takes modern pitchers 4 or 5 starts to equal that many innings.  Or maybe that's just modern Cincinnati Reds pitchers?

Roll the credits!

Blood-Horse Feature: Welcome to Keeneland

In just about ten days it will again be time for me to take my annual week-long Breeders' Cup handicapping sabbatical during which period you won't be able to find with a search warrant neither me nor my Daily Racing Form.  Well, OK, I'll be here at The Ranch.  No surprise there.  But you catch my drift.

I had outlined a grand post or series of posts about Keeneland including an unauthorized re-transcription of Max Watman's excellent chapter on Keeneland titled "Racing As It Should Be" from his book Race Day.  Alas, time and the All-Star Summer conspired against such an effort.  Therefore, you'll have to satisfy your interest with third-party resources.  Some of which I'll provide here and where I am able.

If you enjoyed the stunning, artistically visual Blood-Horse features Calumet Farm: The Rebirth of a Legend and Ireland and the Thoroughbred then you should find for yourself a deep attraction to their newest feature published just this week titled Welcome to Keeneland.  Welcome to Keeneland goes a step - or perhaps I should say a stride - further by incorporating audio and video elements missing from their two previous features.  Among the vignettes you'll see is one of equine artist Peter Williams.  I know as much about art as the next guy, which is to say almost nothing.  Most of what I do know I learned from Bob Ross and from watching the Antiques Roadshow.  And like every other obnoxiously opinionated blog artisan, I know what I like.  For example, the works of Edouard Cortes.  Unsurprisingly, I am fanatical - or as fanatical as I can get over art - about the oeuvre of Peter Williams.  A discerning eye might observe similarities in the two artists.  If you're in need of an attractive print to adorn some particular wall in your home or office, I strenuously urge you to support Mr Williams.  You can view/purchase his artwork here.  "Out Riders" (below; image absconded without permission) is a particular favorite of mine:

One particular video in Welcome to Keeneland that illustrates the bucolic rolling hills of horse country into which Keeneland rests is found on the "Grandstand" page, called "Shoot a Race."  In this clip, you'll watch a race from the grandstand rooftop with a track photographer.  The rooftop itself is industrial-looking and the photographer's rapid-fire shooting might be distracting to some.  What I call to your attention are the green hills of bluegrass that stretch away in all directions and disappear into the horizon.  With but few exceptions, this is unique in North American horse racing where the older, established tracks have been squeezed by dusty and decaying pax Americana industry and the newer racinos are shoehorned into office parks and strip malls.

The Breeders' Cup attracts each year many of the world's greatest race horses, hence its designation as the World Thoroughbred Championships.  Nearly all of the foreign invaders are turf horses.  Back in June I gave you the winner - Golden Horn - in England's Epsom Derby, the UK progenitor of our Kentucky Derby.  Last week, Golden Horn won Le Prix de L'Arc de Triomphe, the most important horse race in the world outside of these United States.  Golden Horn's jockey is the Italian-born Lanfranco "Frankie" Dettori, the greatest jockey in the history of mankind.  Frankie Dettori will be at Keeneland for the Breeders' Cup.  I hope Golden Horn makes the trip to join him.

Roll the credits!

All-Star Summer: FanFest

For those of you who may be familiar with the annual, two-day RedsFest event, the All-Star Game FanFest would be immediately recognizable.  Held at the Duke Energy Convention Center, same location as RedsFest, yet on a larger and lengthier scale lasting for five days and occupying every last available square inch of the downtown facility.  One could not have swung a rosin bag without hitting an exhibit, an autograph stand, vendor table, concessionaire, memorabilia dealer, activity area, photograph booth, local dignitary, or national celebrity.  One concessionaire I hit with regularity was the chocolate-covered Oreos.  As the umpire used to say after the Reds cap-wearing Kahn's Big Red Smokey shoved a Kahn's Big Red Smokey down the gullet of the umpire; "MMMmmmmm......!!!" 

But enough of my gluttony, onto the photographs of FanFest!

The hometown news crews were parked on the sidewalk with care in the hopes that the commissioner of baseball soon would appear.  I had hoped, perchance to dream, for a chance encounter with WCPO-TV's dreamy Tanya O'Rourke.  Alas, it was not to be.  [How many literary references can I pack into one paragraph?]

I arrived at the opening each day, as you may have expected, and was able to snap a variety of photos before seas of humanity flooded the three floors of the convention center and obscured the sightlines. 

 

 

Above you will see portions of the main floor.  Portions.  And there were two other floors of attractions.

One day of the five-day event was Military Appreciation Day.  Immediately upon the gates opening that morning, all patrons were stopped just inside the atrium for a brief ceremony to honor both the active duty and retired from all branches of service.  During the playing of the National Anthem, I stood next to legendary Red Sox pitcher Luis Tiant.

That is "El Tiante" in the black shirt with his back to me, facing the flag and with his hand over his Cubano heart.  Trust me, it's him.  "El Tiante" will make an appearance later in this post.  On the last day of FanFest I got a backside photo of another foreign-born pitching legend:

Anybody recognize this Cooperstown Hall of Fame pitcher?

This could be my favorite ASG 2015 photo! 

Stepping off the escalator, Lou and I bolted around this former National League Cy Young Award honoree (1971) as we sprinted toward the autograph line for Rollie Fingers (not photographed, above).  Hustling past this seven-time 20-game winner, I wrestled with my Android Galaxy S9000 to switch it to selfie mode and snapped over my shoulder this awesome, blurry picture of Lou (wearing red, at right) and..... Fergie Jenkins.  If you study the image closely, you will see the broad smile on Lou's face.

Bringing a broad smile to the face of FanFest attendees was MLB Network's Heidi Watney:

An illustrious crew of MLB Network on-air talent such as Sean Casey made hour-long appearances at the MLB Network desk to pose for photographs with fans.

One exhibit at FanFest presented the ways in which the game of baseball has been communicated about and reported on, down through the ages.  Displays of old hardware?  I'm there!

Yes!  That is correct!  You are in fact looking at a Blickensderfer model portable typewriter, circa 1885.  Keys, paper roller and not much else.  How cool is that?!

Ticker tape machine, circa 1910.  You say Holla!, I say John Pierpont Morgan!  .....And Phat Daddy becomes physically ill.

Who is kidding who?!  We're all here for the autographs.

"El Tiante" was so happy to see me that he took precious time out of our one-on-one interaction to drink his coffee.  ¡Dios mío!   After putting his coffee down we actually shared a funny interaction made all the more funny because I'm not certain we understood one another completely.  Here is Tiant's reaction to my jocular witticisms:

Also happy to see me was the greatest living Reds pitcher, Mario Soto:

Stepping up to meet Mr Soto, his mobile phone rang and he pounced on it like a weakly-hit grounder up the middle on a 2 Ball 2 Strike circle change.  Note he has my baseball and his pen in the same hand.  I had no jocular witticisms for Mario after this.  But I was respectful.  I simply thanked Mario and moved on.  I still think Mario is great.  I'm just glad he didn't throw the ball at me (although I could have led the 2015 ASG FanFest in HBP).

The lines were long for autographs, in some cases approaching 2 hours.  I was fortunate often to be in line nearby or next to some fairly knowledgeable baseball fans who also were in possession of standard social interaction skillz.  Believe you me, this is not always the case.  I shared some great conversations with other fans about the remarkable career of Mario Soto, for example.  In one line, an older guy wearing a Tigers cap and Denny McLain jersey asked a nearby volunteer about that afternoon's weather forecast.  Sunny and warm, chance of afternoon showers came the friendly reply.  Interjecting myself, as I am often wont, I added in a conspiring tone (as I am often wont), That's the forecast every afternoon in Cincinnati.  The old Tiger fan's eyes lit up;

You know what they say about where I'm from, in Detroit?

Everyone within a 10-foot radius could see what was coming next;

 

Just wait 15 minutes and the weather will change!

Instantly, like Mario Soto pouncing on his phone so as not to engage me in polite conversation, some sneering jerk wearing a Giants cap (fair-weather fan, undoubtedly) said contemptuously to the old guy They say that about everywhere.  Funny but true.  And mean, too.  Like I said, standard social skillz are sometimes absent in these long autograph lines. 

Johnny Franco, surprisingly, had zero personality and did not even make eye contact with me.  Very much against type.  As such, he receives no photograph here.  We all have bad days/moments, and I'll chalk up my experience with the former Reds closer as just one of those misfortunate moments.

The former MLB player which I had as autograph target #1 on my list, Hall of Famer Juan Marichal, I was never able to get.  I tried every day to no avail.

The most energetic retired player, who took the most time to chat and even suggested to pose for a photo - and therefore win the theoretical prize as Most Fan Friendly - was legendary Reds pitcher Jim Maloney (the hardest-throwing Red until the arrival of the Cuban Missile):

Below, Lou (at right) and I acquire the John Hancock of Hall of Famer Rollie Fingers on the Convention Center's third floor (and grand ballroom).  Were in not for the gregarious Jim Maloney, Rollie would have earned my Best All-Star FanFest Autograph Experience Award.  The photo below was taken on the last day of FanFest.  But on the first day, Rollie was the first signature I obtained (his was the only I acquired twice) due to a malfunction with the authentication gerbils seated to the right of Rollie, he and I talked very pleasantly for about 30 seconds.  30 seconds in autograph interaction time is an eternity.

With such long wait times for autographs (not complaining here, I'm just sayin'), I had plenty of time to study the high-rise scene just outside the Convention Center windows.

Carew Tower at center, the Queen City Square (seemingly dwarfed) to the immediate right and well off in the distance.

Lacking formal training in HVAC, I'm not sure if this massive apparatus hulking atop a downtown building is a freshwater-retention cell, central air control unit, elevator shaft, or nuclear reactor but the faded Shillito's graphic on its side is the element that caught my eye.  Corporate mergers and consolidation put a knife in the heart of Shillito's in 1986 so that faint beacon for local retail has, evidently, been calling out for the past 30 years.

Lou was unable to attend the first few days of FanFest due to a family vacation/reunion along the eastern seaboard so, after getting my first Rollie Fingers autograph, I sent Lou the wish you were here photo below:

This seflie thing might just catch on!  Could be a trend.  You never know.

Roll the credits!