I’m not sure what prompted me to think about old trophies and prize ribbons. Perhaps it was Gayle Manley’s piece on Kentucky Derby memorabilia (this issue). While antique trophies aren’t high-priced, for the most part, those associated with significant sporting events or athletes may be the exception. If there’s a genuine Kentucky Derby winner’s trophy hanging around a yard sale, pick it up. It is said to be the only solid gold trophy awarded and if associated with an “important” horse it might bring high six- figures, perhaps more.
Achievements in sports and agriculture, among other endeavors, have long been recognized with presentations of tangible evidence of the success. Eventually many of these milestone markers, like other less personal possessions, find their way to sales. I recall an auction at house where a section of the attic was literally covered with ribbons from county fairs. Those ribbons, no doubt, represented countless hours of effort on the part of some young person. They apparently were going to go with the real estate that was also being auctioned. I thought at the time, “isn’t there someone who should be saving them for the family?”
I suppose the awarding of the trophy or ribbon to the winner is what matters, not the hardware itself. So, in that regard, it’s natural that over time they’d find their way to a sale, just like the family portraits that become separated from families to take on the role of “instant ancestors” as auctioneers often call them.
Some of the trophies that have passed from the hands of the winners can be appreciated as décor, especially those from the 1890s and early 1900s. They were typically more traditional “loving cups” and were often elaborately engraved. Some trophies have found their way into bars and chain restaurants to provide an aura of local authenticity and longevity, even if the venue was recently built on the out-parcel of a plaza or shopping mall. Modern trophies with tinted aluminum columns stacked on faux-marble bases just don’t seem to make the same statement of importance.
Personally, my sole high school “trophy” is in the form of a “30-word pin” for typing speed, which would be equivalent to an honorable mention if compared with the speed of the business students. I should write the provenance for my children: Awarded in 1964 for speed in “touch typing” on a manual Royal typewriter. Coached by a teacher who, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, would randomly shout “Hamilton, quit looking at the keys.” The speed record would have been better than 30 words a minute, howevr there wre deductions for tupographicsl erors.”
Now where is that pin? Well, if I can’t find it, Linda has one as well.
