Local Baseball Card Collector Holds All the Cards

Guy Zinn’s baseball card is possibly worth $125,000 for one reason — he was Jewish.

Born in West Virginia, Zinn — an outfielder who played for the New York Highlanders, the Boston Braves and the Baltimore Terrapins from 1911 to 1915 — was not an exceptional player. He’s best known for being one of 11 players to steal home twice in a single game, and for scoring the first run ever at Fenway Park.

But Zinn’s 1914 card is potentially worth more than six figures because one man — Jeff Aeder — collects baseball cards of Jewish players.

And he’s not alone, according to Dan McKee, a resident of the northern Baltimore County community of Freeland and owner of the elusive Zinn card.

“A bunch of collectors go after Jewish baseball players,” says McKee. “Guys will pay a lot of money for those cards.”

There’s an entire subculture of the baseball card collecting community devoted to chasing down Jewish players. Aeder is a prominent figure in that world, and the Zinn card is his “Holy Grail.”

“My Guy Zinn card is the only one known to collectors,” says McKee. “There can never be a complete set of Jewish baseball player cards because I have the 1914 Guy Zinn.”

For that reason, Aeder, a Jewish real estate developer from Chicago, offered McKee $125,000 for the card in 2014. McKee listed the card on eBay for $250,000, setting an inflated price because he says he “hates selling” his memorabilia, and balked at Aeder’s initial $10,000 offer.

Though the card is worth $10,000 to $15,000 by most estimates, Aeder’s first offer “immediately rubbed me the wrong way,” says McKee.

McKee says Aeder later apologized via email and explained he was opening a Jewish museum and wanted to display the Zinn card as part of an exhibit on Jewish baseball players.

Aeder’s philanthropic efforts are well-documented. He and his wife, Jennifer Levine, founded a school for children with learning disabilities, as well as a kosher restaurant that donates profits to charity. Chicago magazine selected the couple as its “Chicagoans of the Year” in 2013.

“The more I thought about it, the more I believed the card belonged in the museum so everyone could enjoy it,” says McKee.

McKee, who in 1995 acquired the Zinn card for $2,500 at a trade show in Fort Washington, Pa., eventually accepted Aeder’s $125,000 offer. But the deal fell through.

Before completing the transaction, Aeder wanted McKee to travel to New Jersey to have the Zinn card authenticated by the Sportscard Guaranty Co. The card received the worst score possible because there was a crease and its iconic color border had chipped. Worse, there was paper loss on the back of the card, obscuring a date on the baseball schedule.

“To the eye, the card looks great, but the technical grade will never be good,” says McKee. “When dealing with very rare, old, one-of-a-kind cards, the condition is only so important.”

Aeder refused to pay the $125,000.

“This is the only known Zinn card in existence. That’s the only condition [Aeder] needed to know,” says McKee. “You have to make a decision of whether you want the card or not because you may never get another chance in your lifetime.”

McKee is no amateur collector. He began chasing baseball cards as a kid at a time when he would save a year’s allowance to spend at annual trade shows. His father owned a Babe Ruth card valued at $500,000, and in 2006 McKee sold an 1894 Baltimore Orioles set for six figures.

It was McKee’s pursuit of a specific set of high-value baseball cards that led him to acquire the Zinn card in the first place. It was part of one of three sets that appeared as an insert in the Baltimore American, later known as The News American. Most notably, these sets were among the first to feature a full-season schedule on the back of each card. The so-called “schedule-backs” were easily discarded by fans, and as a result precious few exist today.

At this point, McKee says he’ll likely never sell to Aeder. “I wouldn’t accept a $1 million offer from him,” he says.

McKee says he’s received other offers. But he suspects he’ll never sell the Zinn card. “The card is going to outlast me,” he says. “I’m just a temporary custodian.”

Brandon Chiat is a Baltimore-based freelance writer.

Photo by Steve Ruark