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Walt Jocketty

Last week when I was in LA for the second game of the Cardinals/Dodgers series, I was in the hallway just outside the Vin Scully broadcast booth (which you pass as a matter of course when you're going to or coming from the Dodger Stadium Club, a restaurant with a view of the field located near the right field foul pole).

I was just getting onto the down escalator and there, across from me on the up-bound escalator, was Walt Jocketty with a bottle of water in each hand. He saw me in my Cardinals batting practice jersey, and he saw my family members surrounding me in their red; he had a look on his face that indicated he hoped to not be recognized. I did a double-take, which he noticed, and gave me a nod of hello.

Several things went through my mind... I thought about saying "I wish we still had Jeff Suppan", but becuase I know he wasn't worth the money he wanted I didn't. I thought of asking about J-Rod, or about whether we had any more pitchers at AAA who can hit better than our outfielders. None of these seemed like good things to say.

The best thing I thought to say was "hey man, you should read what Larry Borowski has to say about the organization over at vivaelbirdos.com; that's some good stuff", but this would've taken too long and he never would have remembered.

So, having no better ideas, I simply said "We're gonna win!" to which he replied with a grin and a double fist pump, his bottles of water shaking in his hand as he joined me for a moment in being just a fan.

Throughout the remainder of the game I held onto the hope that I was right and that we would depart the victors. After all, we'd taken the previous 10 games against the Dodgers, and the offense was showing signs of life.

That's what being a fan is, I suppose; hoping for something over which you have no control to turn out in a way that favors you. You can be sitting next to your best friend, with whom you agree on just about everything else, with whom you share many common interests and goals, and yet one of you will be jubilant and the other devastated simply by the outcome of a game.

It probably wouldn't be nearly as fun if you did have some control over the outcome, or if you were responsible for assembling or managing the team. I can't help but wonder if, while we all would love the opportunity to be the GM for once, Walt wouldn't want to be just a fan.

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Glad I'm not the only one...
I had a very similar experience at Spring Training a few years ago with Lou Brock.  I wanted to say something very profund, and ended up shaking so hard while handing him the ball to autograph that he asked me if I was ok.  I nodded and muttered, "You're Lou Brock."  And he responded, "Yes, I am."  I repeated my statement, and he smiled and said, "It's ok son, I'm just an old ball player."

by Brock20 on May 22, 2007 12:47 PM EDT reply actions   0 recs

Sweet Lou
Lou Brock came out to San Diego for a golf tournament at the course I work at 2 weeks ago.  I said hello to him for a minute before it started, and then ended up talking to his wife for about 15 minutes as she was bored, just hanging out waiting for the 5  hour+ event to finish.  

At the end, I rushed over to polish up his clubs so I could talk to him, and of course, I say, "Did you get a chance to see any of the world series games last year?"  

Smart question, huh?  But he was cool and we talked for about 5 minutes, normally, after my dumb question.

by DuncanDipper on May 22, 2007 3:34 PM EDT reply actions   0 recs

Bud Selig, grand-dad
A few years back, I got myself worked into a tizzy (a much longer story) and decided that I needed to calm down by driving around for a while. Living in Waukegan, IL, I thought to drive up towards Milwaukee and turn around when I calmed down.

When I finally did, I pulled off the highway about a half-hour north of Milwaukee. I saw a sign for a Dairy Queen and thought, ooh, ice cream!, that sounds good. (I know, strange thoughts from someone who just drove two hours because he was pissed off.)

Anywho, I pulled up to the restaurant, got my Blizzard, and started to walk out. Then I saw an older gentleman with what looked like a couple grand-kids walking up. I held the door open as they entered and got in my car.

As I sat in the seat, it dawned on me that the old man was Bud Selig. After a momemnt of hesitation, I walked back in and talked with him for a couple minutes while the kids got their frozen treats. I don't rightly remember what we talked about, but he seemed genuinely interested in what I said (this was back when he couldn't do a damn thing right in a lot of people's eyes).

Meeting him doesn't preclude me from criticizing his moves, but it does make me respect him a little more, knowing that he is a simple grandfather that likes to talk baseball with complete strangers.

Everywhere is within walking distance if you have the time.

by Solanus on May 22, 2007 5:40 PM EDT reply actions   0 recs

Bud....
I have a friend who is a huge Brewers fan, season ticket holder.  He wrote Bud a letter a couple years back in which he talked about some of the problems with baseball.  It was an awesome fan's love letter to the game.

He's sitting at home after work and the phone rings with a NYC area code.  He ignores it.  The person calls back immediately, so he picks it up. Bud Selig is on the other end.  My friend talked to him for about 45 minutes and said that Bud took everything he had to say in.  Finally, Bud said that he had to go do some work, but he appreciated my friend supporting baseball, being a fan, and for writing him.

My friend walks over to the fridge, grabs a victory beer, comes back to flip on ESPN, and sees Bud doing the Pete Rose news conference where Peter finally admitted that he bet on baseball.  

by Brock20 on May 22, 2007 8:35 PM EDT up reply actions   0 recs

Stan, without Biggie
Not being a St. Louis area native, it was a treat when my parents and I made the trip from Bloomington, IL to take in a Cards game.

One trip in 1979, after the game, we went to Stan Musial's restaurant, known as Stan and Biggie's.

We were waiting for out dinner when an older gentleman walked up, looked at me and said, "Give me five, young man!"

I was so dumbfounded, knowing who Stan Musial was, I held out my hand for a handshake. He laughed, but gave me an autographed photo of him in uniform.

Ah, brushes with greatness, especially when you're too awed to know what to say!

by player2bnamedl8r on May 22, 2007 6:11 PM EDT reply actions   0 recs

Another Stan encounter
I was at a game at Busch Memorial back in the late 80s or early 90s, just outside the old Cardinals HOF that was on the first level behind home plate.  I turned around and there stood Stan Musial.  As I stood there speechless, Musial asked if I wanted him to sign anything.  I've never been much of an autograph hound, though.  

To this day, I don't know how I summoned the ability to say what I said, but I responded with "No sir, I just wanted to shake the hand that held the bat."  He gave me a vigorous handshake, laughed and was on his way.

by Lance on May 24, 2007 6:27 PM EDT up reply actions   0 recs

Thanks for the stories....
I'm very impressed with everyone that had the gumption to speak to those guys.  Last October, I was in San Diego for a work conference as the NLDS was starting.  I had made the joke to my family about what would I do if I saw Albert Pujols in the lobby of my hotel.  And, lo and behold, what didn't happen the second day I was there?  I look up from putting something in my bag and there is Albert and his wife walking across the lobby!  I chose not to go up to him because my dad had taught us there was a time and a place for talking to a ballplayer and getting an autograph...and his day off with his family wasn't it.  Maybe because my dad had passed on earlier that year I was more inclined to following those old lessons.  Well, that and I was just too scared of making an idiot of myself.  ;o)

Anyway, I saw lots of players over the next couple of days and that was enough for me.  Of course, I absolutely had to ditch my conference the next afternoon and catch Game 2 at Petco.  It was a glorious afternoon win!

Stories like these are what keeps us as baseball fans.  In the end, griping or cheering, it's all a lot of fun!

by cardsgirlinAR on May 22, 2007 8:29 PM EDT reply actions   0 recs

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