When “Mean” Joe Greene tossed his jersey to a young fan in a Coca-Cola commercial during Super Bowl XIV, a college kid in Pittsburgh suddenly discovered what would become a lifelong passion.
“When he threw that jersey, a light bulb just went off,” Timothy Kelley told cllct.
Kelley had never considered the idea he could own a real game-used jersey from his beloved Steelers until that moment.
“How neat would it be to have Joe Greene’s jersey in my room to look at all the time ... like a trophy,” Kelley said he thought at the time.
Eventually, Kelley would accumulate one of the world’s finest collections of Steelers jerseys, numbered in the hundreds. Many of those game-used items have been consigned to Hunt Auctions for its Super Bowl Auction next month.
Convinced by that moment in January 1980 to pursue game-used memorabilia, Kelley's quest initially took years to complete.
He started by looking up the Steelers organizational headquarters in the phone book.
“What do I have to do to get one of those jerseys?” he asked. “We don’t give those out,” they told him, saying the equipment manager was responsible.
Thwarted, Kelley largely put the idea of owning a piece of his favorite his team to the side.
“I kind of gave up on it,” he recalled. Back then, game-worn was in its infancy. Before the internet and the explosion of the memorabilia market, jerseys were often seen as nothing more than laundry.
At an autograph signing years later, Kelley met Steelers linebacker Andy Russell. He asked the same question he always asked when meeting a former Steeler: “Did you ever keep any of your jerseys?”
Russell told him he was only given one — from the final game of his career. They made plans to meet the next day so Russell could show him his jersey. The seven-time Pro Bowler showed up with his girlfriend (later his wife). She was wearing the jersey like a fan would at a football game.
“That's how he kept track of it,” Kelley said.
But after around a decade, he began seeing ads in The Hockey News for game-worn NHL gear. “I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, that is a thing!’”
Kelley soon forged a relationship with the owner of Byron's Hockey Land, a card shop in New Jersey. The owner had deals with some team equipment managers and would source NHL jerseys that he would then sell to Kelley.
Kelley’s first game-worn jersey purchase was a Bob Errey jersey. It snowballed from there. Over the years, Kelley put together what he believes is one of the best Penguins collections ever assembled.
The highlight was the helmet believed to be worn by Mario Lemieux in his first game and for years afterward.
But Kelley's Steeler dream finally was realized in 2017, when the team decided to release the jerseys it had in storage and auction them off at Lelands.
“It’s time for me to go after what I really wanted, which was a Steelers jersey from my childhood,” Kelley said, explaining the difficult decision to sell off his Penguins sweaters to fund Steelers purchases.
From that original auction, Kelley purchased a 1993 Rod Woodson jersey, worn in an AFC wild card game, for $13,668 and a 1978 Rocky Bleier jersey for $30,326.40.
The Steelers collection he had longed for was starting to take shape.
Over the next few years, Kelley spent more than $500,000 on his collection.
The same year as the Lelands auction, Kelley was perusing items from Pirates Hall of Famer Willie Stargell, one of his favorite players, in an auction at SCP. It was more of a window shopping exhibition, and Kelley wasn’t expecting to pick up any new items.
But as he waded through trophies, rings and other memorabilia, Kelley arrived at another collectible grail.
It was Terry Bradshaw’s helmet from the 1979 season.
"I just about fainted,” Kelley said of uncovering the item from the Steelers' four-time Super Bowl champion quarterback. “I was just thinking, I don't care what this cost, I’m buying this.”
Bradshaw wore the helmet in multiple games and on the cover of the “Sportsmen of the Year” Sports Illustrated issues in which he posed Bradshaw next to Stargell. Bradshaw gifted the helmet to Stargell after the photoshoot.
Kelley’s excitement only grew when he began his research, referencing old Steelers books and programs.
“That's when I realized that he had worn it not just in ’79. He wore it in (the) 1978 (season) and in the Super Bowl. Comparing some scratches to photos he found in an old book, Kelley was able to find a match. “Oh my gosh, that's it,” he said.
But public auctions are a tough way to build a collection. Relationships are key.
A major source for his jerseys came through the Steelers Pro Shop, which had a few game-worn jerseys hanging on the walls. Kelley met with the shop’s manager, who told him he had a “warehouse full of jerseys.”
Kelley explained the depth of his collection. “You're the ones that bought those?” the manager replied, shocked.
“Look, I'm serious about purchasing these jerseys, so they mean a lot to me,” Kelley told him.
The two struck a deal: Kelley would be given free rein to anything he wanted from the warehouse, and it would be kept for him until he paid. It was a win-win. Kelley had access to more jerseys than he could dream of, and the Pro Shop had a steady stream of income.
Suddenly, Kelley had gained credibility with yet another major gatekeeper.
“I would come in, and I would have my one list. I'd say, do you have this jersey from this year?” Kelley said.
Of course, the Bradshaws of the world will always be the focus of a collection like his, but Kelley is just as fanatical about the lesser-known guys, some who played only a season in Pittsburgh.
“The player may play one year, and I love this guy like he played here for 10," he said. For Kelley, if a player ever donned the black and gold, he is a Steeler for life. “Small plays and big games” is how he views the spectrum.
Stories like these accompany so many of the hundreds of jerseys and countless items in his Steelers collection, with the common theme being his passion for the team.
When he graduated college, Kelley originally thought he wanted to work for the Steelers. “I figured they won’t get a better employee than me, because, you know, I love them.”
But he reconsidered.
“Do I want to turn something I love into a job?” he asked himself. “I don't want to jeopardize my love of Steelers.”
The team was always an escape from the rigors of daily life for Kelley, and he didn’t want to ruin the purity of his fandom. He has missed just one home game in 40 years, scheduling vacation days away from his law enforcement job to ensure he could always make the games.
“Some people use leave to go on vacations,” Kelley said. “I made sure that I had enough for Steeler games. That's how important they were to me.“
The jerseys are a physical representation of that same passion. And giving them up has been a struggle for Kelley, who, at 63 and without children, determined it was time to sell, despite his constant second-guessing.
When David Hunt of Hunt Auctions first sent him the list of the online catalogue of his collection for auction, Kelley couldn’t bring himself to look.
To Kelley, each jersey is a link to his childhood, the days when he enjoyed the Steelers with his family.
“I didn't buy this stuff to make a buck. It was because I wanted it so bad,” he said. “I didn't do it for anybody else but myself.”
The son of a preacher, Kelley will never forget watching his father up on the pulpit telling the congregation it was time to cut church short that day to go watch the game. Those memories are what makes it so hard to let go, regardless of the monetary windfall coming his way.
Will Stern is a reporter and editor cllct.