Contained within a photo album is a handful of autographs of professional athletes I have collected over the years; players from the LA Dodgers, Minnesota Twins, Edmonton Oilers and Saskatchewan Roughriders; collected at various games my family attended as I was growing up.
Autograph collecting can be big business and there is certainly money to be made. The condition of the autograph, it's rarity, eye appeal and age all affect its value. A 1927 baseball in crisp, clean condition signed by Babe Ruth sold at auction in 2012 for $388, 375. A Muhammed Ali autograph goes for about $1, 425 although an earlier signing as Cassius Clay can fetch $17, 925. A Tiger Woods signed card once went for $16,600.
Our culture has a fascination with athletes. We cheer them on, wear their jerseys, memorize their stats and get excited about opportunities to get a picture or obtain an autograph. We tend to elevate their status and put them in the realm of celebrity.
Hosts of a radio sports show were discussing athletes who had run afoul of the law. On the list of examples was a hockey player who had been instrumental in last year's Stanley Cup championship. A man who identified himself as a father of three young boys called in complaining, "Some role model he turned out to be." He described the enjoyment he and his sons had experienced last year in cheering on the team and this player and now, a year later, he was having to explain to his sons what it meant to be arrested for possession.
"Some role model he turned out to be"…the words of a frustrated father to be sure, but what is it we are looking for that we think would qualify an athlete to be a role model? The ability to stick handle a puck, or throw strikes, or drive cars, or race bikes has nothing to do with the character, integrity or discernment an individual displays. So why would we look to them to be role models for our children?
I thoroughly enjoyed watching sports with my dad. He's been gone for many years but we had so much fun watching Stanley Cup playoffs, the World Series, football games and the Indy 500. In all the time we rooted for our teams not once did he ever say I should choose one of the players and make them my role model. Because why would he do that? Why do we do that? We can certainly appreciate their skill, applaud their proficiency and cheer on their accomplishments but why would we expect them to serve as role models for our children?
Some certainly are. They recognize the opportunity they have to be more than an athlete; that they have a platform from which to address a wide constituency and set an example. They can draw attention to causes and provide leadership to a community. Many take this seriously. But to set them up as role models--when we know little about them apart from their athletic prowess--is to set them up for inevitable failure and their fans for disillusionment.
Our role models should come from amongst the people whose impact can make an imprint on our lives by the investment they make in us. I had several favourite players amongst the rosters of professional organizations, but it was my dad who took the time to play catch in the backyard, coach my teams and teach me what mattered. He invested in my life and gave me an example to follow.
Today 1070 babies will be born in Canada. They are coming into a world that they will need help understanding and navigating. They will need a home, foundation, guidance, discipline, education, support and love. The jerseys they may wear one day or the posters they put up on their wall won't provide them with this. They need family. They need fathers, grandfathers and father-figures.
The autographs I keep in a closet don't represent cash value as a collector. Their value…their tremendous value to me…is carried in the moments I shared with my dad siding side by side cheering on our teams and celebrating victories.
A role model is not the person who puts a signature on a piece of paper, but the one whose impact can be written on our lives. That's my outlook.
