She won 500 baton twirling trophies that sat for years in her mother’s basement, and the Lewiston woman didn’t want them anymore.

Dan Field pulled his van up – twice – to claim them all.

“I always say yes. I don’t ever turn down trophies,” Field said.

He collects them, temporarily.

Rec director for the John F. Murphy Homes, a program for people with disabilities, Field spruces up donated trophies, affixes little brass bowlers on top and hands them out at the end-of-season banquet in May.

Every one of the 90-plus players in the Murphy Strikers Bowling League gets one. Size matters (more points, bigger trophy). There’s a champ in each division: independent bowlers, bowlers that need bumpers and bowlers in wheelchairs.

“They’re very excited. Big, big smiles. Some of them come up screaming because they’re so happy to get trophies,” Field said.

Maintaining a hand-me-down collection takes work. That makes it worth it.

Field has a system. Monday nights find him sitting at the head of a big, long table, a bucket of water, wet cloth, gold spray paint and Goo Gone beside him. He spends three to four hours dissembling, wiping down and reassembling donated trophies. Old brass nameplates are pried off with a knife. Former toppers are retired. If there’s a scratch, the trophy gets a shot of paint.

He sees lots of swim trophies. In a recent batch to clean: A huge Best of Show from the May 1995 Bonnie Eagle Auto Show, with a big muscle car on top; a 1992 Maine Summer Swimming Championship first place; and a first from the Bath Recreation Department’s 1995 City Championships.

There’s no way the program could afford to buy its own trophies new and hand them out to everyone, Field said. Donations arrive monthly, usually in batches of 10 or 12.

His bowlers, who range in age from 20s to 70s, sent the generous baton twirler a thank-you.

He’s only had to toss a donated trophy once. Its entire base was shaped like a beer can – no way to salvage that, he said. It arrived with a bunch of arm-wrestling trophies.