OK, so everyone wants me to bring lists to the card show. I'm not thrilled with that news. I was looking forward to hitting the card show like some wild, starving dog, going after whatever looked appetizing.But I realize that lists come in handy. That's why I've brought one to virtually every show I've attended. I just wasn't looking forward to constructing the variety of lists I would need to chase the multiple sets and players I want.
That's when it occurred to me: I don't have to write every list down like in the old days. All I have to do is print out the want lists on my blog, and then type a few numbers into a word document for the lists that aren't in the blog yet, print, and hit the road! Duh!
The nifty little computer sure has taken away the inconvenience of putting pen to paper, hasn't it? That's something my old teachers wouldn't be very happy about. Did you know Thursday was "National Handwriting Day?" Neither did I, until I read an article in my newspaper today about teachers complaining about how the time spent teaching students handwriting has deteriorated to virtually nothing.
"It's just hard to find time to concentrate like we used to on correctly forming letters," said one teacher. "When I was in school we used to go over and over and over letters until they were perfect. It's not like that now."
So I decided to do my own little ballplayer penmanship analysis. I don't have access to my autographed cards right now (the family is sleeping), so I'm going with the facsimile autos.
First a look at some of the ballplayers from my childhood.
Ken Griffey's signature on his 1979 Kellogg's card is bold, artistically pleasing and perfectly legible.
George Brett's autograph on a 1989 Bowman is simplistic, but again very readable.
Even though Bowman didn't put names on the front of their '89 cards, there is no mistaking that this is Jack Morris, thanks to his signature.In fact, it didn't matter what card I picked up from the 1970s and '80s. For the most part, the signatures were all readable. For example, here's the 1974 Topps checklist of the Pittsburgh Pirates.
I can read all of the signatures: Steve Blass, Wilver (Willie) Stargell, Manny Sanguillen, Kenneth A. (Ken) Brett, Renaldo (Rennie) Stennett, Richard (Richie) Zisk, Dave Guisti, Richie Hebner, Dock Ellis, Al Oliver, Jerry Reuss and Nelson Briles (OK, the Nelson is messed up).In case you think I picked a team with expert penmanship, I grabbed another '74 Topps checklist at random. Here is the Twins checklist.
Danny L. Thompson, Bert Blyleven, Stephen Russell (Steve) Braun, James H. (Jim) Hall, George Mitterwald, George (Joe) Decker, Harmon Killebrew, Ray Corbin, Rodney (Rod) Carew, Arthur B.L. (Bobby) Darwin, Larry Hisle and Tony Oliva. The only ones that are slightly sloppy are the Corbin and Darwin.Now let's fast forward to the present. I'll start with everyone's favorite unpronounceable Royal.
What the heck is that scrawled between his legs? I can't make out a single letter.Perhaps you're thinking I'm being too hard on him. After all, he has kind of a longish last name. OK, here's a name that's more simple:
I can read a "P" and possibly an "H," but mostly Phil Hughes' signature looks like "Pshb."So I decided to find an even simpler name.
Josh Bard has a four-letter last name. Can't get much easier than that, can it? But what you get for an autograph is: "J. Bl"
Chris Ray. Five letters in the first name, three in the last name. Yet it looks like his fingers seized up in the middle of his signature. Can't read a single letter.I wasn't even searching for specifically bad examples of handwriting. It was everywhere I looked.
This is Zach McClellan of the Rockies. His signature looks like somone with the initials U.D. (Is he sticking it to Topps by signing the initials of Upper Deck?)
I'm positive Mario has written posts about Andrew Miller's signature. But if you didn't know Miller's face, there is no way you'd have a clue whose card this was. What's that on the end of his name, a bow-tie? (I just know Mario has written about this. I really should look through other bloggers' archives once in awhile).
Finally, we have Sean Casey, who is a great person (someone just left a comment yesterday on my post about Sean Casey. It's a very interesting comment and just reaffirms what a great guy he is). He is grinning ear-to-ear, but he can't possibly be grinning about his signature. It looks like he was doodling.So, it's obvious, to me anyway, that handwriting has gone downhill. If you assembled the autos of these current players on a card like the '74 checklists, collectors would spend days before they figured out who all of the players were.
But perhaps the people who know this best are the ones who have collected autographs for years. And to those people, I ask, have you noticed players' signatures getting worse and worse? And if you have, does that bother you? Or doesn't it make a difference at all?
That's all for now. I have to put together some lists (after I get some sleep). Maybe I will write some of them down.
Comments
With the more recent ballplayers, it's remarkable if you can read the signature.
I chalk it up to the changing times... how often do we hand write anything anymore?
I don't know about Topps, but the Bowman cards say that the facsimile signature comes from the players first Topps contract. That makes the scrawled signatures even more surprising, because they should be awestruck young guys that haven't become jaded enough to just scrawl something and get on.
For a fun current autograph, check out Johnny Cueto's card. Looks like a kindergartner printing.
What I tried to do when looking for signatures of current players was avoid picking Latin American-born players, as for most of them English isn't their first language, and their signature would reflect that.
I like McClellan's signature. I sign my first name almost exactly the same. I once went to the bank to cash a check and the teller thought that I wrote U Mb on the back of the check.
Have fun at the show.