Once upon a time in the paradisiacal middle of the Bluegrass State, a gentleman named Christopher Kidney took a casual stroll into his local Goodwill. Now, let’s be honest, when most of us dawdle into a Goodwill, we’re usually on the hunt for the perfect vintage blazer or that elusive, mint-condition 1980s mug that sparks memories of yesteryears. But Kidney? He hit the proverbial jackpot of the bullpens. Less than 20 bucks later, he stepped out of the thrift shop richer in spirit and potentially, in pocket.
What did he find, you ask? Oh, just a smattering of authentic baseball memorabilia that must have slipped through the keen observation of the store’s curators. Signed cards from illustrious baseball demi-gods like CC Sabathia, Don Mattingly, and Chuck Knoblauch—each name singing the song of Major League achievements. And, adding delectable frosting to this sports memorabilia cake, there was even a Super Bowl XLII card bearing the signature of Plaxico Burress.
However, the crown jewel of Kidney’s venture into thrifty wonderland was a baseball branded with the illustrious signature of Yogi Berra himself. Yes, you read that right. Yogi Berra—the man whose “Yogi-isms” could as easily confound the mind as his catching prowess with the New York Yankees could dazzle the senses. A man whose cabinet boasts 10 World Series titles, a record marinated in history and nostalgia.
As Kidney relayed the tale to a captivated Newsweek audience, it became clear that he was no mere enthusiast, but an adept collector with an eye for authenticity: “When I saw the names on the cards, I could tell they were real based on the brand.” One could only imagine the tremor of excitement, the quivering hand reaching for such treasures, perhaps shaking with the thrill of historic intimacy. His hunch proved right as rain, as his finds were authenticated by a supportive collecting community. Once certified, like any good detective turned treasure finder, Kidney parted ways with his discoveries, selling them privately for over $500.
Kidney’s tale didn’t just sit there on the couch—it found legs on social media. His post, adorned with simple declarations of disbelief like “Incredible, still shaking,” exploded across platforms, particularly on Reddit’s memorabilia threads. With over 1,500 upvotes, it seemed everyone from basement-dwelling collectors to armchair fans had something to say—and most of it soaked in a playful mix of envy and admiration.
One commenter humorously quipped about the Goodwill store’s oversight: “Thank goodness your Goodwill doesn’t have an in-store Googler pricing these near eBay comps.” While another commented in a heartfelt mixture of brotherly pride and jealousy: “My brother collects and sells sports memorabilia and he says to tell you he is both happy for you and very jealous!”
But Kidney’s tale of treasure extending beyond mere commercial value doesn’t stop here. Just prior to his base-stealing at Goodwill, he’d unearthed yet another historical homerun: a signed 1949 book by the baseball legend Honus Wagner, plucked from obscurity for the princely sum of $1.59. “For $1.59, I found one of the greatest baseball players’ signatures ever! I’m in shock,” he declared.
These fortune-finding micro-dramas aren’t one-man achievements. Kidney, in his humility, credits a broader circle of support. With an appreciative nod to his wife, Ashley, and close friends Brad and Christopher Davisson, Kidney wants the world to know that his score isn’t merely personal—it’s communal.
There’s a wonderful poetry in his story, a mosaic of life’s random chance encounters that echoes a broader truth about treasure hunting: it’s not just about cold, hard cash. It’s about legends, community, and keeping passion alive, all while riding the thrill of an unexpected find. For every casually flipped page in an old book or stray gaze across a thrift store’s dusty shelf, there lies a chance. Not just to make a fortune, mind you, but to connect with history in a way so few of us can in our day-to-day lives.
And who among us can’t admire that exquisite reminder slyly tucked next to worn-out cookbooks and Jurassic Park VHS tapes—that occasionally, yes indeed, hidden treasures are waiting patiently for the right eyes to discover them. It’s perhaps an elegant echo of Yogi Berra’s own wisdom, at once perplexing and enthralling: “It ain’t over till it’s over.” Surely, for Kidney, it’s far from over.
