Jim Stingl
Collector fills rec room with 15,700 golf balls, each with a different logo.
As a golfer, Don Thompson admits he struggled to get the ball in the cup. But he had no problem filling his basement with golf balls, each one unique. It all started by happy accident 31 years ago. A member of his golfing foursome lost a ball and Don’s search turned up a different ball. It read: Curtiss Baby Ruth, 50th Anniversary.
“I thought, God, that’s interesting, a logo like that. And that’s the first one I collected.”
His collection-gone-wild has grown to something like 15,700, and every one is on display on neat racks in the basement of his condo in Franklin, the one he shares with his wife of nearly 70 years, Mary.
No two balls are alike. The 16 Coca-Cola balls, for instance, are all slightly different. Same with Miller Lite, Green Bay Packers and the other larger sets he has.
He gave me a tour this week. It’s an amazing collection, though I’m glad I don’t have to dust it.
“If I can find it now...” said Don, 93, as he aimed his walker at one of the ball-crusted basement walls. “Here! Here are different teams and their football helmets. And over here I’ve got a line of Disney balls. Beer and soda up here.”
It’s like a truckload of golf balls collided with corporate America — IBM, Sony, Chevrolet, Swanson, Aflac, MasterCard, Zenith, Gerber, CBS and a zillion others. Companies using Titleists, Top Flites, Pinnacles and other brands for advertising is definitely a thing.
I spotted Journal Communications, the old name for my employer. Other closer-to-home logos I noticed include M&I, Carthage College, Wisconsin Grocers Association, 12 WISN-TV, Wausau Homes, Milwaukee County Parks, Brookfield East High School and three from Cutler-Hammer, where my dad worked.
A couple named Jen and Dan stamped their Sept. 24, 1994, wedding on golf balls. Don has one, though he has no idea who that is.
Same with the many balls marked with players’ initials, one that says David Karst Jr., and another that reads, “Hit far Gramma. Love Max.” I showed one saying “F.J.P. Jr. Dad Grandpa” to Don. “Who knows?” he said.
He found many of these treasures by searching the woods, marshes and other places where players lose golf balls. Back when he could walk better, he would go out a few evenings a week until it was dark, always loving the thrill of the hunt.
“I don’t live that far away from Whitnall. You got Oakwood here, and Muskego Country Club,
where I got chased out a few times. As far as that goes, at Oakwood and Whitnall I got chased out, too,” Don said.
This became a retirement hobby after Don left the machine shop at Wisconsin Motors. Over the years, he has collected stamps, beer cans and matchbooks, too, but has given away most of that.
The golf balls are all perched on plywood slats, each one with the logo facing forward.
Don cut all these boards and drilled 1-inch holes for each ball. They cover the rec room walls from the ceiling nearly to the floor, with more hanging from the joists.
Balls from across the color spectrum are mixed in with the dimpled white masses. A Pebble Beach ball is still in its box. A Christmas ribbon encircles one that says, “Bah Humball.”
Family and friends are always giving golf balls to Don, hoping to dazzle him with one he doesn’t have already.
He keeps an alphabetical list on the computer of every logo in the collection.
I asked Don if there’s one elusive find, the holy grail of logo golf balls, that he keeps pursuing. Not really, he said, but he would like to have one from last year’s U.S. Open at Erin Hills.
Each ball is a lucky find, but Don never thinks of them in terms of financial value and he’s probably right about that.
When he’s gone, Don said, his son plans to try selling them on the internet anyway.
As I pulled myself away from his fascinating collection and was saying goodbye to Mary and Don, he asked me for a business card. Guess why. He collects them.