- Associated Press - Saturday, May 5, 2018

WEST LAFAYETTE, Ind. (AP) - One of the most remarkable pieces of college basketball history sat unseen, untouched and unheralded for more than 80 years.

For most of its life, the white wool jersey with yellow letters spelling “Purdue” on the front and the yellow number “13” on back lay in drawers and closets from rural Clinton County to California wine country. For the next few weeks it resides in Dallas, where Heritage Auctions estimates it will bring $30,000 when sold.

Some owners knew of its alleged origins with John Wooden. The “Wizard of Westwood” remains most known for his coaching brilliance at UCLA, including an unprecedented 10 national championships. As even casual disciples of Hoosiers hysteria will tell you, though, Wooden first gained fame with the Boilermakers as one of the college game’s early superstars.

Others remained unaware of the Wooden connection until recently, having instead treasured the relic for its familial ties.

As Wooden represented so many things to so many people, so too does this jersey. Friendship between classmates, the bond between a grandfather and grandson and the optimism of a new father.

Yet at its core this is a detective story. From where did this jersey come, and how did it survive, improbably, in such splendid condition since the Great Depression?

“I thought it was a far-fetched possibility it would be his jersey, but look where we are today,” said John Neff, the Clinton County native who consigned the jersey to auction.

Friends with Johnny

Saturdays in the fall were special for Neff and his paternal grandfather, Frank. They woke up early, loaded up the camper and drove from the family farm south of Frankfort to West Lafayette. After lunch they sat on the Ross-Ade Stadium bleachers and cheered on the Boilermaker football team.

And on one afternoon each season, they walked over to Mackey Arena for the basketball team’s black and gold scrimmage.

Frank Neff graduated from Purdue prior to his career as an industrial arts teacher. While there, per family recollection passed down through the years, he befriended a classmate in the school of education already known for his stellar high school basketball career at Martinsville.

“I remember him telling me, ’Oh yeah, me and Johnny are good friends.’ We stay in touch,” John Neff said. Jesse Neff, Frank’s son and John’s father, also confirmed that ongoing acquaintance that continued throughout Wooden’s coaching career.

After graduation, both ended up at rival high schools. Wooden coached basketball at South Bend Central. Neff kept the scorebook at Michigan City Elston. In the letter of provenance accompanying the auction listing, John Neff said his grandfather and Wooden once traveled to Hinkle Fieldhouse together to watch the high school state finals. On the way down they spent a night at the family farm.

No one knows why or when Wooden gave Frank Neff the jersey. Frank Neff eventually moved back home to take over the farm. John Neff was a senior at Clinton Prairie when his grandfather died in 1989. His grandmother, Dorothy, died in 2000.

The following Christmas, John’s aunt, Nancy, gave him a gift. The accompanying card said Dorothy believed Frank Neff would have wanted his grandson to have the contents. He opened the box and for the first time set eyes and hands on the Purdue basketball jersey his grandfather had kept tucked away for decades.

“I was totally surprised, and I was crying and emotional,” Neff said. “It meant so much to me, the memories of him and I.”

Crying on that Christmas Day, John Neff didn’t know he held a unique artifact of basketball history. He only knew he held a lasting connection to his grandfather, and those Saturday afternoons in the fall in Ross-Ade Stadium and Mackey Arena.

One of a kind

How rare are game-worn Wooden artifacts?

Purdue doesn’t have any, based on calls to the athletic department and the university archives. A letter sweater Wooden wore in the early 1930s is the marquee item in the Mackey Arena concourse’s Ring of Honor.

The Indiana Basketball Hall of Fame’s Wooden exhibit displays a beanie Wooden purportedly wore during his freshman year, but nothing he wore in action as a Boilermaker.

Orlando Itin showcases his vast collection of Purdue sports memorabilia at Bruno’s Swiss Inn, the West Lafayette restaurant his father first opened in 1955. The display cases in Big O’s Sports Room include Wooden’s collegiate All-American certificate (Purdue has the only other one), his high school scoring trophy and several autographed photos and other mementos.

However, in five decades of serious sports collecting including previous bids through Heritage Auctions, Itin has never seen another jersey from Wooden’s playing days.

“It’s hard to believe somebody’s kept it that long,” said Itin, who has researched the item as a prospective bidder. “I’ve tried to find old football jerseys, even basketball from the 20s and 30s, and you never see anything - even a common player.”

In 1932, Wooden’s then-speculative coaching accolades seemed unlikely to surpass his playing exploits. He set the Big Ten Conference scoring record and became the first three-time consensus All-American. The Helms Athletic Foundation and Premo-Poratta Power Poll retroactively recognized the 1932 Boilermakers, who finished 17-1, as national champions.

Today the jerseys and other trademark belongings of such a player would be coveted, cataloged and preserved. Beyond the cultural significance, everyone knows they can put a discarded shoe from a random star on eBay and make a quick buck.

In 1932, however, such a market did not exist. Uniforms and equipment filtered down to the junior varsity and freshman squads or became next season’s practice jerseys.

“There wasn’t intrinsic value to the stuff,” said Chris Ivy, director of sports auctions at Heritage Auctions. “A lot of teams wore the stuff until it fell apart.”

The origins of this particular Wooden jersey remain a mystery even to the Neff family.

Jesse Neff said his father only showed him the jersey once, sometime in the 1950s. As far as he knows it never left the box in his parents’ bedroom dresser. He doesn’t remember his father showing the jersey off to visitors or friends.

John Neff holds memories of his grandfather close. He spent hours in Frank Neff’s woodworking shop, watching his grandfather work. He remembers the intense focus on the task at hand; the runny nose that dripped onto the cigars his grandfather smoked down to stubs.

When that workshop burned down in the early 80s, John Neff believes his grandfather’s collected correspondence with Wooden over the years perished as well.

The jersey, safe in that bedroom drawer in the house, survived.

Connecting the dots

For the next two decades the still-unidentified jersey remained in Clinton County. John Neff left it with his parents when he moved to Indianapolis, then to California. He wasn’t sure where he would settle down and didn’t see the need to travel with it.

Neff eventually settled in Guerneville, California, where he works as a contractor. He asked his mother to ship the jersey to him seven or eight years ago. No one arranged for precautionary packing or insurance.

Then John Neff did what anyone does with an appreciated but not obviously important keepsake: He stuck it in his closet. He considered having his mother frame it, but the plan never came to fruition.

He occasionally showed the jersey to friends. They laughed at its size - small by modern standards. They felt the gritty wool texture, imagined how itchy it must have felt, and breathed in the fabric’s age. The jersey was a conversation piece, quickly folded up and returned to the shelf.

Eventually, curiosity caught up to Neff. The jersey looked and felt authentic. He remembered his grandfather’s friendship with Wooden. Could the jersey’s significance surpass sentimentality?

Neff found photos of Wooden from his playing days. Some are iconic in their own right, but all featured poses shot from the front. Eventually he found a Wooden-dedicated episode of “Purdue Profiles” - a joint production of Big Ten Network and Purdue - on youtube.com.

Right before the 13-minute mark, All-American Glenn Robinson drives to the basket for a layup while wearing his customary No. 13. An interview with former Purdue sports information director Jim Vruggink follows. He explains his attempts to verify that “Big Dog” and Wooden wore the same number were thwarted by the same photo limitations Neff eventually encountered.

So in 1994 Vruggink called Wooden, who confirmed he wore that apparently not-so-unlucky number during his senior year.

Neff went to his closet, unfolded the jersey and looked down at two gold numbers: 1 and 3.

For months, Neff said he contacted auction houses and memorabilia dealers in a frustrating and fruitless attempt at verification. He said he tried to contact the Purdue alumni association but heard nothing back. He wanted someone to tell him the swath of wool in his closet wasn’t actually Wooden’s jersey so he could move on.

“I had my doubts,” Neff said. “As I kept looking, the feeling was stronger that it’s possible.”

Finally, through the website of the PBS program Antiques Roadshow, Neff reached Washington, D.C.-based appraiser Leila Dunbar. She in turn connected Neff with Mike Gutierrez, a sports memorabilia expert at Heritage Auctions. In doing so she bolstered Neff’s growing confidence via an e-mailed note to Gutierrez: “This could be really good.”

Neff considered Gutierrez’s call first thing the next morning - “not one minute after 9 a.m.” - another positive sign.

Through a friend, Neff discussed the jersey with an FBI agent who worked in sports memorabilia fraud. That agent vouched for Heritage Auctions’ professionalism and reputation. However, true authentication would have to come through a third party - Memorabilia Evaluation and Research Services, known to collectors by the acronym MEARS.

The company set out to meticulously cross-check characteristics establishing vintage and game use. The jersey’s tag showed it was manufactured by Sand Knit, a company well known to collectors of pre-World War II sports uniforms. It also bore the label of Sutcliffe Co., a Louisville sporting goods store known to operate at the time.

MEARS considered the materials, style and signs of usage consistent with jerseys of that era, which it narrowed to 1930-32. The Journal & Courier could not locate photos of Wooden in jerseys with yellow lettering. Troy Kinunen, managing member of MEARS who signed the letter of opinion, said shading in black-and-white photos of Wooden from that era satisfied his standards.

MEARS deducted one point from its 10-point scale for small holes (moths took a few nibbles over the years, loose lettering and light stains. It graded the piece A9.

The company’s jersey grading and authentication criteria explains the strict guidelines necessary for such a designation: “No reasonable doubt can exist as to whether or not the player wore the jersey during the proposed time frame in order to receive this grade.”

“I told my fiancee, ’I’m the only person in the world that has something like this,’ ” Neff said. “I have goosebumps right now. It’s a pretty amazing feeling. I’m just an average Joe.”

Passing it on

Neff took pride in his amateur sleuthing skills. He even wondered if his grandfather had purposely omitted the jersey’s origin, leaving it up to him to figure out the story.

Eventually, however, a tough decision emerged. Neff placed considerable sentimental value on the jersey. Someone else, however, might surrender significant financial value to acquire it.

Neff and his fiancee, Amanda, welcomed their first child, Josephine, in November. Priorities shifted. Neff thought it might be prudent to start a college fund.

He asked his father if he thought Frank Neff would have minded him selling the jersey. Jesse Neff didn’t hesitate with his blessing.

“I need to think about my fiancee and my child moving forward,” Neff said. “That’s probably my biggest motivation.”

As of April 27, bidding on Lot No. 50695 had reached $7,500. (The final auction price will also include a customary 20 percent buyer’s premium which goes to Heritage Auctions.) Bidding runs through May 18.

Ivy said Heritage Auctions presents an estimated value based on the sale price of similar items. A sweater worn by Green Bay Packers legend Vince Lombardi during his coaching tenure at West Point, for example, fetched $48,000.

“Really, though,” Ivy said, “there’s nothing to compare this to.”

Itin won’t reveal his personal bid limit, for obvious reasons. However, he wouldn’t mind some Purdue-associated individual with deeper pockets getting involved.

“The first thing I thought was, it belongs at Purdue,” Itin said. “It belongs in someone’s collection where it can be seen.”

Neff isn’t as picky. “I put it in an auction for a reason,” he said. He does hope the jersey holds as much meaning to the buyer as it did to him and his grandfather.

“This is where he got his start,” Neff said of Wooden, “to make him what he became.”

Neff held the jersey for the final time two months ago, before shipping it off for verification.

But he isn’t relinquishing the memories, and now he has a story to go with them.

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Source: (Lafayette) Journal and Courier

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Information from: Journal and Courier, http://www.jconline.com

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