Autograph Stories Galore

Reading the story on all the players' autographs made me a little sad. I grew up playing baseball and practicing my autograph. Made me realize those dreams are dashed and it's probably worth 2 cents. If that.

My first autograph was Montell Williams, Im not sure why he was at a West Michigan Whitecaps game but i knew he was on morning TV.

I remember my first autograph vividly: Keith Smart.  He played for my hometown Rapid City Thrillers (in the CBA), and I was completely clueless that only six years earlier, he was forever etched into Indiana lore with that shot.  He even went out to pizza with me and a couple of my fellow Junior Thrillers one night -- parental chaperones included.

Having access to some of the college greats, as well as future NBA stars (hey, Phil Jackson coached in the CBA!), in a small town like that was a kid's utmost dream.  We didn't care about endorsements; those guys were larger than life.

i wonder if those guys put their number in their autograph when they have to sign in the little yellow box for a drivers' license, or credit card receipts...

My first autograph was supposed to be Barry Sanders but it was the year he never showed to summer camp or the NFL again...I was only a kid Barry, only a kid.

So who did I get instead? Scott Mitchell.......yay.

During college, I worked for a moving company in the summer time.  One day my boss told me I was doing a pack job for Loy Vaught, which was pretty exciting.  It was awesome to be there and hang out with him as he was a really cool guy. I remember him saying he was kinda bummed cause he wasn't sure what he was going to do, since he was retiring at only 35.  Thought it was pretty funny when he complained about how many strollers his wife had bought (think they had 5) and thought it was funny when he was singing U2 off key. At the end of the job I had him sign my moving shirt "Loy Vaught Go Blue!" One of those crazy awesome experiences.

I once went to a Brewers - Indians game during that rare season (1976 I think) when Hank Aaron and Robin Yount were on the same team. My dad was invited to give the pregame prayer and got me an autographed baseball...

...wait for it...

...wait for it...

...of the Indians. Woo Buddy Bell and Boog Powell!!!

I got dozens of autographs at Jersey City Jersey games in the early 60s.  Some of those guys turned out to be pretty good ballplayers; e.g., Leo Cardenas, Luis Arroyo, Cookie Rojas, Mike Cuellar.  What ever happened to those autographs remains a mystery to me all these years later.

My best story about getting a ballplayer to come over to me at a ballpark [at least aside from times I was actually covering the event]  involved Ted Sizemore, who was a great Michigan baseball player.  He was playing for the Cards at the time and they were visiting Wrigley Field.  I arrived early and had a first row seat down the right field line.  A bunch of kids were screaming, "Hey Teddy, are you going to play today?"  Sizemore basically ignored them so I yelled, "Hey, what do you think of Moby Benedict?"  He turned immediately pointed at me, and I nodded.  He came over and talked about baseball, Michgian, etc. for about 20 minutes.  Oh, and I forgot to ask him to sign something.  [For the uninitiated, Benedict was the long-time Michigan baseball player and head baseball  coach.  He played on Michigan's 1953 national championship team and was an assistant coach on the 1962 national championship team.  A couple of his teams went to the College World Series and during his 17 years as head coach, Michigan was a perennial B10 power.  His number (1) and Bill Freehan's number are the only numbers retired in the baseball program.]

my Aunt took me to a wrestling match in Grand Rapids.  Some of the upcoming wrestlers were standing on the stage before their matches, watching the warm up acts.  So I started yelling at the Sheik and Bull Dog Don Kent trying to get their autographs.  They just stood there with their arms folded and didn't move a muscle.  So when they came out to wrestle, I boo'ed and barked at their asses.  I think BoBo Brazil and some Mexican wrestler beat them in a tag team match...... Bastards deserved to lose......

That is definitely what I would expect from Ron Artest.  Hilarious.

When I was 11, I waited with my buddies after a Mud Hens game to get Deion Sanders' autograph. When he emerged from the clubhouse, he handed my buddy Gabe his beer, signed one autograph, and proclaimed "Prime Time gots to party." he walked away leaving only one autograph and a half full beer. Champion of the e.

I'm proud of my MGoBlog tagline: Only missed one game at the Big House since 1979. And my best autograph story is the silver lining to having to miss that game (Houston, 2003).

My five-year-old daughter's t-ball team got picked at random to play a game at the white house. Of course this happened on the same day as a game. Curses. I went through the five stages: anger, denial, bargaining (I forget the fourth)...and finally, acceptance.

The game and the whole experience was surreal. The teams and families got a private tour of the white house. We sat about 10 feet away from the president on the bleachers.

After the game the families mobbed the president to shake his hand. (Regardless of political party, shaking a president's hand is kind of a neat thing.) But our family wasn't allowed to do that since we had been picked to meet with the press over by the fountain on the south lawn. We were pretty disappointed. But we dutifully went over to the fountain with a family from the other team to give some schmaltzy quotes to the press on how fun the whole event was. The other person who joined us with the press was the commissioner of the white house t-ball league. And this person happened to be.....Cal Ripken, Jr.!!!

My wife had brought two baseballs and a sharpie marker just in case the opportunity presented itself. Cal...or should I say Mr. Ripken...was a complete gentleman and graciously signed each baseball and chatted with us for a few minutes before the press came over.

A very cool day for us. And we beat the tar out of Houston. 51-3, I believe.

Was a Sr when we beat Seton Hall.  They had a rally in Crisler when the team came back and the AA News (remember when it used to be a paper?) handed out copies of their front page.  As I was leaving we noticed the team leaving throught the same parking lot we were walking through.  So, I have framed in my home office the front page of the AA News after we won the NCAA tourney signed by Glen Rice, Loy Vaught, Sean HIggins, Kirk Taylor and Mark Hughes.

I look at it often.

I was at the Senior U.S. Open at Inverness in the early 2000s and I was in jr high I think, Niklaus only signed a few autographs each day as he walked form the driving range to the tee box. I stuck my hat out and he grabbed it, but he kept walking, so I had to try and push my way through the crowd so I could get it when he was done. There were too many people and I was stuck outside of all the people lined up along the barriers. Jack just tossed the hat in the air, must have just thought I would catch it because there's no way he could still see me through the crowd, I grabbed it and it's one of my most prized possessions.

I love Novak's description of his autograph:

“I change it almost every time. I just don’t care. I literally just change it almost every time. I used to have a set one but, honestly, a Z and an N are literally just the same thing, just turned on its side. I could never get it to look cool and it just pissed me off that everyone had a sweet autograph and I could just never figure out anything that looked cool. So I just started writing my name pretty much.”

"Lets get Physical" tour, Pine Knob, 1982....Nuff said!

When I was about 5, my older brother got a signed baseball by some Tiger greats like Kaline, McLain, and a few other 1968 Tigers. Anyways, I decided to add my name on it too in a red sharpie. He was not very happy and I hear about it to this day.

I do have a nice collection now of Detroit/Michigan players now. It's a fun hobby, but it can be crazy expensive. Also some of the people who hang around looking for autographs are kind of scary.

Is it just me or is the movie The Sandlot based on the childhood of Darius Morris? I wish he would have gone into further detail about what it was like to grow up with Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez.

I've posted this story before, but it's too good not to post again.

1997 Football Bust.  My buddy and I were sitting there, two enterprising twelve year olds, each pretty geeked about the whole thing.  We both brought copies of the Michigan Daily Big 10 Championship edition to be signed.  So we're sitting there during dinner, and we notice Brian Griese get up from the head table to go to the bathroom.  We both realize that this is probably as good a time as any to get him to sign, so we grabbed our newspapers and ran out into the hallway at Laurel Manor, where we waited outside the bathroom until he came out.  He was really cool about it, laughed a bit, and signed our papers.  About a half hour later, during his M-ring speech, he made a crack about how he was getting so popular people were following him to the bathroom for autographs.  Whoops.  At least we were kids.

Later that night, in the general mob of players signing stuff, I approached a sort of awkward looking player standing off to the side with his parents, not really signing much of anything.  So I figured hey, he's on the team, why not?  So I walked up to him and asked him to sign.  He kind of gave me a weird look, and his dad (I think) says to me "You don't really want his autograph, do you?  He doesn't even play..."  I said "Well, he will someday, right?"  He signed.

That kid turned out to be Tom Brady.  

I need to get that thing framed, I think.  I probably ended up getting most of the team that night, except Woodson.