"In 2021 a crack sandlot baseball crew was excluded from the Hall of Fame for records they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from the maximum view of the public eye to the Cooperstown underground. Today, still not wanted by the Hall of Fame they survive as autograph signers of fortune. If you want their signature, and you have $40, and if you can find the flea market where they are at... maybe you can purchase a glossy of... The Fame-Team"
Underneath the beat up painted wooden sign over the Quonset hut door which announced the entrance into 'Bill-Bob's Flea Market,' four men stood in some confusion eyeing the morass of tables beyond. Filled with overpriced tiger print rugs, homemade jams and jellies, and more cheap jewelry than one might find at a Charming Charlies lay the destination table of their interest.
"Dizzy, you told me we'd make some money here and raise awareness of our exclusion from the Hall of Fame. But I don't think I could find even a used Captain and Tennille vinyl here for less than $30. Who on earth is going to come to this place?" asked a nondescript man in a forgettable grey baseball cap with a red H for the logo.
"Don't you worry, this is the place. I saw Pete Rose at one of these once, and he had a line three people deep! I am sure that there will be an even bigger line for Stubby Shaw, top five all time in At Bats in Cobbfather." The man grumbled and another voice behind him spoke up, low in tone and forceful in delivery. "I can't see my van from that table. Nobody better mess with my van while we are doing this! I took it to the chop shop and put in 12 subwoofers in the back and a portable DJ set, that stuff is worth more than the entire inventory of this junkyard!"
The man named Dizzy Leonard, in his Oklahoma drawl replied easily, "Now now Kendry Lunar, you put an alarm system on that right? If you didn't let me know, I sell mobile homes and used cars back home, and we can install one for you at the right price. But I know you are clutch and already thought of that, since you are #2 all time in two out RBIs."
The man named Dizzy was about to say something else when they all heard a crash somewhere deep within the Quonset hut market. A high pitched voice cried out, "Nobody puts Rocco Pember in a straight jacket! Nobody!"
Dizzy spoke up, "Well boys, we better go handle that, looks like Rocco found the vintage horror booth. He just hasn't been the same since he found out he had the worst all time groundball to flyball ratio in league history. Let's get that cleaned up before he ruins our autograph table before we even get it set up. I paid $200 in security deposit for that space"
As the three men disappeared into the Quonset hut flea market, a young boy looked up, holding a used baseball bat from a pile at a booth staffed by a man who looked like he smoked too much in one year for three men. He looked down at the name inscribed on the bat, and smiled with awe, and looked up at his father. "Can we buy it please, Dad?" he asked longingly, "It's only $54.99, and it's Quinton Allen signature edition, the career leader in Grounded into Double Plays!" The father replied, "Sure. Why not. Maybe someday you can grow up and own that record yourself." The boy smiled, happy that his father recognized greatness when he saw it.