2000 Fender Stratocaster SRV "Stevie Ray Vaughn" Signature

This is a very cool & clean all original 2000 Fender Stratocaster SRV “Stevie Ray Vaughn” Signature model, a killer guitar produced for several years but this is an early issue in a pretty Sunburst finish. It’s got a nice Rosewood neck that’s feels great. It’s dead stock w/its black pickgard loaded w/3 original pickups & pots. The original SRV pickgard is in the case w/a bunch of case candy. She weighs in at 8 lbs. 6 oz. This Strat was collector owned & never played. She’s literally near mint in all respects for the pickiest collector. It’s lightweight & very user friendly & comes in its original Tweed hard case.

A short SRV story:

It’s 1972 in a sweltering South Texas town, and you and your date are standing in line at the local club. Sweat rolls down the back of your neck as you think, “Damn, it sure is hot tonight,” but you smile at your girl as the line starts to move. When you get to the doorman, you pay your money and walk inside to look for a couple of seats. As you sit down, you can feel the anticipation building in the room because tonight, one of the  Blues greats will be laying down the lines like nobody’s business, and you’ll be a witness to that very greatness.

As Albert King hits the stage and breaks into “Crosscut Saw Blues,” you can feel the smile spread across your face because it’s a perfect song to set a perfect mood and as you squeeze your baby’s hand, you’re feeling real lucky tonight. The beer flows and the smoke thickens in the room and King absolutely does not relent. He wipes his face and jumps immediately into “For the Love of a Woman” and throws his head back as the dance floor fills up.  It’s one of those nights where nothing else and no other place exists- it’s just you, your girl, and the legend himself stirring up the passions and feelings that only the Blues can bring. Folks, it’s a magical night…

When the show ends and the people start to file out, you can see that they are visibly drained and a superb time was had by all. The attendees chatter among themselves about how Mr. King delivered the goods that night- some mentioning the music while a few guitars players marveled at his left-handed Flying V.  As you reach the door, a cool wind blows across your face and you smile down at your sweetheart. She smiles back and playfully bumps your shoulder with hers as if to say, “The night’s not over, you know.” What nobody noticed that night was a skinny, 18-year-old white kid sitting in the corner of the room. His eyes never once left Mr. King’s hands, and he would one day turn the Blues world on its head. His name was Steven…