They’re hardly a Hall of Fame crew; they rarely even get recognized at Starbucks. But slap a sombrero on one of them, hand him a saxophone or a novelty-sized glove, and —Hey! I know that guy. They’re the players—mostly journeymen (39 combined stops) and utilitymen (35 positions)—whose faces you remember from collectible cards, their backs stained with bubble-gum sugar. And they want you to know that they appreciate your love.
Sharon Bowen thought her late husband was a bit crazy for buying a scrapbook filled with black and white photos of Cleveland ballplayers from the early 1900s — but not anymore. It turns out that book held what may be the only autographed photo of Shoeless Joe Jackson, the Holy Grail of baseball signatures.
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