The annals of sports memorabilia are filled with stories of rare baseball cards, game-worn jerseys, and the occasional rogue fungo bat. But every so often, we get a reminder that the world of collectibles isn’t just about scarcity—it’s about scale. The sort of scale that requires a rental truck, some minor league logistics, and apparently, over six thousand Sharpies.

As documented by UPI, an 8-foot diameter replica baseball just broke the Guinness World Record for the most signatures on a single piece of sports memorabilia. Yes, you read that right: a sphere not so much suitable for the pitcher’s mound as it is for rolling down a hill in some sort of very American take on Zorbing. This monumental baseball—one part canvas, one part spectacle—successfully rounded up a verified 6,750 autographs.

Minor Leagues, Major Effort

The odyssey began on June 24 at Victory Field, home of the Indianapolis Indians, with the ball traveling through 15 minor league ballparks nationwide. In a detail highlighted by UPI, the journey concluded at the MLB Flagship Store in New York, where, on Tuesday, a Guinness World Records adjudicator examined the ball and confirmed the total signatures. That official tally? A staggering 6,750, securing the new title for the most signatures on a single item of sports memorabilia.

Reflecting on the previous holder of this particular achievement provides some perspective. The outlet also notes that Cambridge United Football Club’s giant inflatable jersey had previously collected 2,146 signatures—a figure that now feels almost quaint. When it comes to group participation and the sheer volume of pen-wielding enthusiasm, Americans have, once again, decided that bigger is indeed better.

Of course, practical considerations linger: How exactly does an adjudicator keep count and maintain their sanity? How many Sharpies sacrificed their lives in this pursuit? Where does one store a signed baseball the size of an economy car—preferably somewhere with robust air conditioning and little risk of being mistaken for a parade float?

Collectible or Collaborative Oddity?

There’s a gentle absurdity in celebrating a feat like this, and that’s part of the charm. Rather than focusing on signatures from Hall of Famers, the artifact itself has become a democratic testament to collective engagement. Among the thousands of names, there may be future legends, or simply a record of the day someone attended their first game. Is it possible anyone can pick out their autograph amidst the sea of ink?

So what does this say about the world of sports mementos? Sometimes, the most memorable collectible isn’t rare or signed by a legend—it’s a literal monument to group participation, rolled from stadium to stadium and inscribed by thousands of fans. If someone builds a baseball large enough, people will line up to leave their mark. Perhaps there’s something reassuring, if not a little bizarre, in knowing that world records are still being broken by community efforts and collaborative weirdness.