Dispatches and a Fan Gets a Souvenir

By DAVID SEIDEMAN, in New York City

"Ninety thousand dollars! One hundred thousand! Selling for $120,000!" The lucky top bidder at an auction late last month in a fancy Manhattan hotel had not just won himself a Picasso drawing or a letter from Elizabeth I; no, he had agreed to pay $120,000 for a soiled, gray, away-game jersey worn by Babe Ruth during his 1929 and 1930 seasons with the Yankees. Ruth's shirt was just one of 991 items that were offered during a two-day sale of gloves, bats, * rings, boxing trunks and a 1950s N.H.L. Zamboni ice-smoothing machine conducted by Leland's, a premier auctioneer of sports memorabilia. The event grossed about $2 million and was one of the largest auctions of its kind ever held.

The success of the sale came as no surprise, for sports collectibles are breaking records, often commanding prices double and triple their catalog estimates. Such is the money to be made that Sotheby's and Christie's, the world's toniest auction houses, are now selling sports memorabilia, although this attracts a clientele that mixes poorly with the typical Givenchy-clad Sotheby's or Christie's customer; the slovenly, middle-aged male attendees at the Leland's sale wore team caps and shouted out their bids.

With baseball cards somewhat passe nowadays, these connoisseurs came to the auction to buy genuine, "game-used" equipment and paraphernalia straight from the clubhouse, complete with "letters of authenticity" from experts, family members and previous owners. "The closer you get to the player, the better," explained Leland's chairman, Joshua Evans. "Lots of use is desirable. Our great jerseys have never been cleaned and are all sweaty and dirty." Jackie Robinson's Brooklyn Dodgers shirt from 1949 was carried down the ballroom aisle hung on a gold stanchion, like some saint's relic, and spike marks and bloodstains could be seen on the right sleeve. Robinson's widow Rachel, who consigned the jersey, watched from the front row as it sold for $66,000.

Leland's auctions tend to bring the buyer very close to the player: Michael Jordan's sneakers went for $1,320, Tom Seaver's chewed-up toothpick for $440 and Mike Tyson's mouthpiece for $880. A packet of prophylactics from the 1950s with Ted Williams' picture on it, though not game-used, still sold for $165.

Despite the hero worship reflected in such purchases, infamy was also a big draw. Last year actor Charlie Sheen paid $93,500 for the ball that dribbled through the legs of Red Sox first baseman Bill Buckner in a misplay that ultimately cost Boston the 1986 World Series. At last month's sale, Leland's auctioned off Buckner's Series runner-up ring accompanied by a note: "Hope you enjoy my ring. The nightmare of 1986 is over! I'm off the hook. Your pal, Bill Buckner." Ring and note brought an astonishing $33,000. Even Pete Rose's good-behavior voucher from doing prison time for tax evasion fetched $770. "I know it's a little twisted," said executive Andy Gross, the winning bidder. "But this little conversation piece will have cult value. I could display it next to the Gerald Ford letter pardoning Richard Nixon, which I own, in my new Hall of Guilt."