When I was a child, I would order cases and cases of brand new baseballs and practice writing my signature on them in preparation for the day I would become a famous big leaguer, because writing on a small, curved surface is not easy. Sadly, my baseball career petered out in junior high school even though my father purchased the entire Little League in our town and hired two former big leaguers to coach me. Our vast wealth could not buy the one thing I really needed: talent. After each disappointing game, I would sit in the family Bentley in my custom-tailored silk uniform, crying tears of frustration while Chatterton, the family chauffeur, would try to comfort me.
Which leads me to today's item, a baseball with a signature so remarkably unreadable that the seller doesn't even dare take a guess regarding its author. If only this player had had the vast financial resources I did (or this player, or this one - or any of these others), then he, too, could have practiced his signature so that collectors could read it two decades later.
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