Granderson added: “A lot of people just want the fact that you signed it. They really don’t care how it looks.”

Image The classic script of players like Babe Ruth has largely deteriorated into a mess of squiggles and personal branding.

If they do care, fans of Carlos Gonzalez, Cliff Lee, Tim Lincecum and other prime offenders will be disappointed. Toronto’s R. A. Dickey, a former Cy Young Award winner, said he had a neat version he might use in a private setting. But at the ballpark, he said, he makes two discernible letters and moves down the line.

Washington reliever Drew Storen, 26, said he could rarely read the autographs he collected growing up. Now his signature looks more like a butterfly than a name.

“I put my number on it, usually, but I think of it as a design,” Storen said. “I challenge people to try to do it, to see if they can, but it’s just autopilot for me, like, ‘Boom.’ It looks cool. It’s like your own little logo, because most of the time you’re signing a card, so they know who it’s supposed to be.”

Some players, like Brett Gardner, Manny Machado and Mike Trout, offer little more than initials. Even Jackie Bradley Jr., a Boston prospect who usually writes out each letter, can lapse into the habit. He once signed for Scott Mortimer, a fan and avid collector from Merrimack, N.H., with a simple “JBJ.”

Mortimer, 43, said he was not very choosy; he just enjoys the pursuit and the experience. But he also has a signature on nearly every card in the 1983 Fleer set and can say with authority that times have changed.