In the heartland of Kentucky, where the pace is slow and opportunities often dress like a well-worn pair of blue jeans, Christopher Kidney stumbled upon a treasure that many collectors only dream of uncovering. His latest haul, found during a routine visit to Goodwill, didn’t just add to his collection—it added a chapter to his life story that he’s been excitedly sharing online and in person.
It was a typical afternoon when Kidney decided to pop into his local Goodwill in Flemingsburg, a habit that to him is as relaxing as others might find flipping through a Sunday paper. He had no grand expectations—perhaps a flea market find or a whimsical piece of memorabilia to tuck into his home office. Instead, he left the store with a collection of genuine autographed baseball memorabilia. The star-spangled haul included signed baseball cards featuring major names in the sports world: CC Sabathia, Don Mattingly, Chuck Knoblauch, and a surprising addition—a Super Bowl XLII card penned by Plaxico Burress. But the pièce de résistance? A baseball graced by the signature of Hall of Fame legend Yogi Berra.
For Kidney, seasoned in the art of appraisal, the signposts of authenticity were immediately evident. “When I saw the names on the cards, I could tell they were real based on the brand,” he explained to Newsweek, his voice vibrating with the kind of excitement that only collectors know. With the gleam of discovery still fresh in his eyes, Kidney reached out to his circle of trusted collecting comrades for confirmation. They concurred, and the collection was authenticated swiftly. He later sold the lot privately for a handsome sum exceeding $500, a significant markup on his under-$20 investment.
But more than the financial gains, the real joy for Kidney lay in the historical connection the memorabilia represented. Among his finds was the Yogi Berra baseball—a physical nod to an era when America’s pastime was filled with larger-than-life figures and even more legendary moments. Yogi Berra, with his famed “Yogi-isms” and his ten World Series rings, remains a purely iconic figure in the history of baseball, inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1972 for achievements that continue to echo in the lore of the sport. Discovering such an autograph on an unassuming thrift store shelf is akin to finding a Picasso behind a motel painting—unexpected, thrilling, and perhaps even a smidgen serendipitous.
Kidney’s discovery didn’t just cause a ripple in his personal circle; it made waves online too. When he took to social media to share his excitement, his post went viral, charming Reddit users with his good fortune and passionate dedication to the craft of collecting. Captioned simply, “Incredible, still shaking,” his post drew over 1,500 upvotes and a tapestry of comments. These ranged from congratulatory cheers to competitive envy, as evidenced by one user’s witty remark: “Thank goodness your Goodwill doesn’t have an in-store Googler pricing these near eBay comps.”
Remarkably, this isn’t the first time Kidney has spun straw into gold at a thrift store. Earlier in the month, he uncovered a signed 1949 biography of Honus Wagner—a name synonymous with baseball greatness—for the absurdly low sum of $1.59. “For $1.59, I found one of the greatest baseball players’ signatures ever! I’m in shock,” he posted with enthusiasm, attaching a sentimental note about his late grandfather who had spent his days working alongside the Reds and Cardinals. Kidney firmly believes that fortune has as much to do with purpose and providence as with luck, hinting that perhaps it was fate that led him to such profound finds, almost as if guided by his grandfather’s spirit.
The financial windfall from these discoveries is, of course, appreciated, but for Kidney, the true treasures have been the connections forged through his finds. “It’s very important to me that I give credit to my family—my beloved wife Ashley—and my best friends Brad and Christopher Davisson,” he mentioned, reflecting on the shared enthusiasm that makes these moments memorable.
This episode serves as yet another instance of Kidney’s knack for finding more in the Goodwills of Kentucky than dusty old typewriters or forgotten jackets. For most of us, it’s a much-needed reminder of the magic awaiting in plain sight. Somewhere, amid the chaos of forgotten tchotchkes and dated hardcovers, might be a relic of history, waiting patiently for the right pair of eyes to notice, appreciate, and share its story. So next time you wander into a Goodwill, do take a closer look; you never know which shelf holds a piece of history.
