An Artifact, or a Payday

An Artifact, or a Payday

By TIM SULLIVAN

Published: July 21, 2012

After nearly half a century as a museum’s priceless artifact, the Yankees uniform that Don Larsen wore while pitching the only World Series perfect game will soon have a price.

Though administrators at the museum, the San Diego Hall of Champions, believed the historic pinstripes were a gift rather than a loan, its former president, Al Kidd, said they lacked both the paperwork to prove it and the inclination to contest ownership. When Larsen decided to reclaim the uniform he had entrusted to the hall around the time of his 1964 induction, management put up no more of a fight than the Brooklyn Dodgers did on Oct. 8, 1956.

“I felt I wanted to do something with it,” said Larsen, who will turn 83 in August and plans to auction the uniform this fall. “I’m not getting any younger.”

Given the potential seven-figure proceeds from the sale, other athletes whose salaries never approached that may wonder whether they have a windfall waiting behind panes of museum glass. The Larsen case could also have broad implications for museums in possession of items of significant value but no conclusive proof of ownership. The curator of one prominent sports museum said he was reluctant to address the subject for fear that donors might seek to monetize their memorabilia.

“Unfortunately, it happens from time to time — too often, really,” said the museum consultant John E. Simmons, whose book “Things Great and Small” endeavors to standardize collections management policy. “It happens in the world of art, too. It almost always happens with an item of a high dollar value.”

He added: “I don’t think the museum has an obligation to the family of the owner generations later. If there’s no good record of the gift, the museum should consider giving it back to the family.”

But the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto has dug in its skates, refusing to return the USA sweaters of the only father-and-son Olympians to win gold medals in the same Winter Olympic sport, Bill Christian in 1964 and Dave Christian in 1980.

As recently as 20 years ago, Simmons said, memorabilia was commonly accepted on a handshake. Marie Malaro, formerly the legal adviser to the Smithsonian, said the absence of professional record-keeping remained a thorny issue for museums.

The San Diego Hall of Champions houses the Breitbard Hall of Fame, each established in the 1950s by Bob Breitbard, a boyhood friend of Ted Williams’s. The museum was typical of its time in accepting donations informally. But Breitbard’s lack of formal accession procedures left his institution vulnerable to a 2006 legal challenge by Claudia Williams, Ted’s daughter.

She filed suit in San Diego County Superior Court seeking the return of several mementos of her father’s baseball career, notably his 1946 and 1949 Most Valuable Player awards and his 1991 Presidential Medal of Freedom. Through mediation, Claudia Williams reacquired the M.V.P. awards but agreed to leave the Medal of Freedom on display at the museum. The 1949 M.V.P. plaque sold for $299,000 during an April auction at Fenway Park.

Larsen’s request for the return of his uniform did not reach the courts in part because he has been a loyal supporter of the museum. As compensation for the uniform, he presented the Hall of Champions with three items: a signed jersey from the Yankees’ 2006 Old-Timers’ Day, a limited-edition crystal trophy commemorating the perfect game, and a photograph signed by him and Yogi Berra, his catcher for the perfect game.

The loss of precious pieces has prompted the museum to take steps to protect its collections for posterity. In a statement, its new president, Denise Cooper, said, “The San Diego Hall of Champions recognizes the value in donor contributions and strives to maintain excellent practices with respect to memorabilia acquisition, retention and loan agreements to best enhance our museum.”

That means, primarily, that documents meant to clarify intent and consent are binding forever.

“What most museums do is that there’s always a clear line of provenance — where it came from, how it was obtained, and then legal paperwork to indicate ownership,” said Joe Horrigan, a vice president for communications at the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.

“In case of donation, you always want to have a strong paper trail.”

The Hockey Hall of Fame’s standard agreement, adopted years after it acquired the Christians’ sweaters, requires donors to renounce all rights, title and interest in an object “absolutely, unconditionally and forever.”

“We don’t take loaned artifacts,” said Kelly Masse, the hockey Hall’s spokeswoman. “It’s not something we do. Our artifacts are all donated.”

At the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y., the acquisitions policy is slightly less stringent. It accepts certain items on loan if a particular exhibit is short on alternative artifacts.

“The lifeblood of any museum is its collections,” said Jeff Idelson, the president of the Hall. “Our policy is that artifacts that we acquire are donated. We have some items that are on loan, and the only time we have an interest in accepting a loan item is when we can’t tell a story because we don’t have anything to tell the story.”

A prominent example is the glove Willie Mays used to make his famous back-to-the-plate catch in the 1954 World Series. It has been on loan to Cooperstown since 1992.

But the cap Bobby Thomson wore when his 1951 playoff home run clinched the National League pennant for the New York Giants, which had been in the museum’s care for more than 27 years, was returned to its owner. In May, it was auctioned for more than $173,000.

Though much of its permanent collection is not on exhibit, the baseball Hall pledges to care for those items it accepts in perpetuity. Other museums sometimes sell objects from their collections and reinvest the proceeds in new acquisitions, as industry ethicists recommend, or to pay operating expenses.

A spokesman for the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Mass., citing that museum’s emphasis on relationships as opposed to objects, said it had returned at least two items at the request of donors or their families, one of them a uniform of the referee Earl Strom, who died in 1994.

“In the marketplace, it’s considered memorabilia,” said Brad Horn, the senior director of communications and education with the baseball Hall. “In our world, it’s considered artifacts.”

He added: “The ability for the Hall to educate its donors on the life cycle of the artifact is critically important. Unfortunately, you’re dealing with items where individuals pass on, mental capacity changes, and relatives want to step in.”

For athletes who retired decades ago like Larsen, significant souvenirs can be worth many times their career earnings. According to an incomplete database at Baseball-Reference.com, Larsen’s major league salary may have peaked at $20,000 in 1965. But the value of his uniform has risen sharply. Brandon Steiner, whose sports marketing company will conduct the 56-day auction beginning Oct. 8, the 56th anniversary of Larsen’s perfect game, said it could sell for “close to a million.”

Steiner added: “It’s special. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime situation. It’s not like it’s going to happen again, a perfect game in the World Series.”

Dan Imler, the managing director of SCP Auctions, estimated the uniform’s value at $200,000 to $250,000.

“Lately there’s been such euphoria with really high-end, iconic pieces,” he said, adding, “I’ve been proven to be conservative in recent times.”

The best comparable piece, Imler said, was Berra’s perfect-game uniform, which sold at auction for $565,000.

“Obviously, Yogi’s a Hall of Famer and fits into some other collecting categories,” Imler said. “Larsen is known for this feat, one of the great single-game performances in baseball history.”

Andrew Levy, who is representing Larsen, said he would be willing to pay $250,000 for the uniform based on the offers he had received. Scott Stimell, who owns a Long Island memorabilia business called Cardboard Memories, said he expected the uniform to sell for “north of $500,000.”

He added: “You’re going to have somebody who has to have it; it’s the only one. In the baseball memorabilia world, in the Yankee world, it means a lot. I really believe you’re going to see a bidding war, and this is going to wind up at someone’s home for $1.5 million.”

Larsen has declined to predict what the uniform will fetch but says he plans to use the proceeds to pay for his grandsons’ college education.

“If anything’s left over,” he said, “maybe I’ll take a trip.”