Three years ago my mom won my brother and I a trip to go see the World Series. My mom has won many trips before, so this part of it wasn't that big of a deal to me. She also won me an opportunity to be a ball boy in the MLS championship game like two or three years ago when it was at Foxboro Stadium in New England. I've also went to see the Rose Bowl, NCAA Tournament, World Cup '94, and numerous regular season basketball, football, and baseball games. The only reason why I told you about all of this is, because I want you to know that this wasn't my first trip ever to a live game or anything.
My brother and I got to see the first two games of the World Series in Atlanta when the Braves played the Yankees in 1999. The games were intense and a lot of fun, but I don't even remember who won each individual game. I know the Yankees won the Series, but none of the games I saw really stood out in my mind.
The experience I had in my hotel lobby was ten times greater than watching any game anywhere or at least it was for me. Let me set the scene for you: my brother and I are hanging out in the lobby of our hotel room hoping to see some players and ask for some autographs. We had been waiting for like ten minutes and then we eventually decide to sit down and chill out. There is this really nice and talkative older, heavy-set black man sitting down right by Mike and I. Mike and I are talking about the naming of Baseball's All-Century Team and arguing about whom we thought did and didn't deserve to be on the team. This guy just joins into our conversation and gives us all kinds of information about baseball from like the 40's and 50's.
Nothing in the world gives my brother and I more pleasure than talking about sports with someone who's as knowledgeable or even more so than us. He tells us Yogi Berra was hilarious, but didn't deserve to be on the All-Century Team over Carlton Fisk. He also tells us how he hates the fact that everyone gives Tommy Lasorda too much credit. An exact quote I can remember is "People treat him like he's the second coming of Casey Stengel or something." My brother and I are just eating this up and laughing our heads off at the same time.
I was so interested in the conversation that we had been having that I didn't even think about why I was in the lobby in the first place. He asks to see my ball and so I give to him. I then ask him what he's going to do with it and he says, "Just dirty it up a bit." After he writes his name on my ball he says he's got a tee time with Frank Robinson and that he has to get going.
Right after he leaves some middle-aged guy comes up to my brother and I and asks us if we can get that guy's autograph for him. At this point I'm really confused, because the guy I had just been talking to knew Frank Robinson and someone wanted his autograph. I ask the middle-aged guy who we had just been talking to and he says, "You didn't know that was the great Joe Black?" This guy then proceeded to tell us how great of a pitcher he was and how he was a true African-American pioneer for baseball.
My brother and I are just flabbergasted and very content, because we had just had an experience will never forget. I appreciate the fact that my mom won me the World Series tickets, but I wouldn't trade the conversation I had with Joe Black or Frank Robinson for lifetime tickets to the World Series. If I never make it, and don't end up being a sports writer then chances are that's the most I'll ever talk to an athlete that great ever again.
My brother and I also met Frank Robinson in the elevator of my hotel room on the way to Game Two of the World Series, but I was so stunned that he was there that I didn't ask him for his autograph. We told him we were Cubs fans and he proceeded to ask us who we thought should get their vacant managing position. We said Don Baylor. Little did we know he was up for that job, and considering how he's doing with the Expos I would definitely say my brother and I and the Cubs made a mistake by not going with Robinson. Right before the elevator reached the lobby Robinson asks me, "So, are you going to ask?" I tell him, "Ask for what." He says, "Just give me your program." The guy takes my program and autographs it saying, "I have to do it now, because if I wait until I'm in the lobby I'll be signing so long that I'll miss the game." Thanks Mr. Robinson -- that was a real classy move.
I have the most potent home run hitter of all-time's autograph (Sammy Sosa). I have a ball with the autographs of the whole 1998 Cubs, the last team to go to the playoffs in the last dozen years. I also have Penny Hardaway, Shaq, Brett Favre, Scottie Pippen, Joe Morgan, Carlton Fisk, Mo Vaughn, and my favorite Cubbie of all-time Mark Grace's autograph. I would trade all of those in a heartbeat, though, before I would ever give up my Joe Black autographed ball or Frank Robinson autographed World Series program. Not because these guys were great players, but because I now feel I know them a little bit I got to have a conversation with them and that is what the autograph represents.
I now understand why Bill Russell wouldn't sign autographs. He would much rather sit down and talk to you for twenty minutes then give you his signature and send you on your way. All of today's athletes can't be faulted for living in the environment they do, but I definitely know its much more satisfying to get an autograph from someone who really cares about you as a person.
I brought all of this up, because about a month ago Joe Black died of prostate cancer. I'm going to finish up this column with a career summary done by SI. 'Former major league pitcher Joe Black, 78, the first African-American to win a World Series game. Black broke in with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1952 and was named Rookie of the Year after going 15-4 primarily as a reliever. Manager Charlie Dressen started Black in Game 1 of the World Series against the Yankees, and Black threw a complete game to win 4-2. Black, who refined a pitch we now know as the slider, went 30-12 in six years.' Thanks for reading my column and long live the legend that is Joe Black not just as a ball player, but as the man and personality he was.
» Tim Phipps is an 18-year-old guy about to go to Bethel College of Mishawaka, IN in the fall. My web site address with all of my columns on it is www.geocities.com/doypstick/the_magic_man
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Posted July 18, 2002.
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