Link
Some pros are winners on and off the field
Early on the afternoon of the All-Star Game, two luxury buses pulled in the front of the Westin Hotel on N. Michigan Ave. Most players on both teams - American and National League - were staying there and would be taken to the game by bus.
A crowd of about 50 lined the Chicago sidewalk opposite the hotel. They were waiting to get autographs or take pictures of the athletes.
It was the usual assortment: little kids with their parents, older kids with autograph books, older guys wearing team jerseys with player names on the back, carrying glossy photos, bats and balls to be signed.
After a few minutes, two hotel security guys emerged. One of them spoke to the two bus drivers and pointed down the block, toward Lake Shore Drive. Both drivers nodded, got back in their bus and moved it 50 yards forward to the service entrance. Then the security guys set up a rope line on either side of the door. Naturally, everyone in the crowd ran toward the rope line.
"No autographs," one security guy shouted. "The players won't be signing. You can look at 'em, is all."
Here we had a city sidewalk being blocked by guys working for a free ham sandwich and a discounted room rate for their pals. And because the crowd seemed to be from pleasant places like Wisconsin or Missouri, there was no move to take back territory belonging to taxpayers, not some hotel.
First player out the door - my new hero - was Jason Giambi. As he headed briskly toward the bus, head down, a little kid shouted his name and darted past the refrigerator-size security guy.
"Can I get your autograph, please?" the kid asked.
"Hey kid," the security guy said. "You gotta stay behind the rope like I tol' you'se."
"Sure," Giambi said to the kid, ignoring the hotel stooge. "Got a pen?"
Good for Giambi. He gets it. Too many others don't.
That's why I decided to conduct a survey to see if a distinction could be drawn between jerks and nonjerks on both All-Star rosters. My trusted research assistant, who is 10 years old, helped with the project.
We had a few rules: No bothering a player when he was with his family. No interrupting a conversation between a player and someone else. No screaming or shouting at a player as he emerged from a hotel elevator or a cab. And absolutely no begging.
We had a plan, too. The logistics were simple. I sat in the lobby with my eye on the bank of elevators. My 10-year-old associate sat in another chair with his eye on the front door.
"Bud Selig," I announced.
Right away, the 10-year-old headed toward the commissioner. Selig was walking and talking, arms gesturing, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the kid. He stopped and signed the ball. Good for you, Bud.
Some players smiled and signed right away, even conversing as they scratched out a signature. Some simply shook their head and walked right past him. A few pretended nobody was there and never even acknowledged the kid or the request.
Here are some results of this nonscientific, deeply prejudiced survey: Jason Giambi of the Yankees, Jason Varitek of the Red Sox, Kerry Wood from the Cubs, Dimitri Young, Tigers, Barry Zito of the A's and Jamie Moyer of the Seattle Mariners were all terrific.
Ichiro Suzuki of the Seattle Mariners was the worst. He'd look at the kids as if they were beggars. And please don't start with the language barrier as an excuse. The guy knows what he's doing.
Mike Scioscia, Angels and American League manager? He stopped, shook hands, spoke with kids for a few minutes, posed for pictures, signed anything put in front of him. San Francisco Giant Dusty Baker was similar to Scioscia. Tony La Russa waving kids off as if he was too busy to stop and sign. Yankee Jorge Posada: Nice guy. His teammate Alfonso Soriano: unapproachable. Atlanta Brave Gary Sheffield: marvelous. San Francisco Giant Barry Bonds: awful.
The survey was done with the realization that these guys get hounded 24-7 by autograph seekers. And too many of them are merely looking for a signature on a ball, a shirt, a hat or a picture in order to sell the stuff at ridiculous prices.
But even that's no excuse for the way some athletes behave toward young fans. But at least Giambi and some others understand that, given the cultural, athletic and entertainment options available to youngsters today, it's no longer enough to know how to play the game. These guys have to grow their game as well, and a smile and handshake are often just about the best marketing tools available.
Sori's attitude after last season hasn't been good.
Some pros are winners on and off the field
Early on the afternoon of the All-Star Game, two luxury buses pulled in the front of the Westin Hotel on N. Michigan Ave. Most players on both teams - American and National League - were staying there and would be taken to the game by bus.
A crowd of about 50 lined the Chicago sidewalk opposite the hotel. They were waiting to get autographs or take pictures of the athletes.
It was the usual assortment: little kids with their parents, older kids with autograph books, older guys wearing team jerseys with player names on the back, carrying glossy photos, bats and balls to be signed.
After a few minutes, two hotel security guys emerged. One of them spoke to the two bus drivers and pointed down the block, toward Lake Shore Drive. Both drivers nodded, got back in their bus and moved it 50 yards forward to the service entrance. Then the security guys set up a rope line on either side of the door. Naturally, everyone in the crowd ran toward the rope line.
"No autographs," one security guy shouted. "The players won't be signing. You can look at 'em, is all."
Here we had a city sidewalk being blocked by guys working for a free ham sandwich and a discounted room rate for their pals. And because the crowd seemed to be from pleasant places like Wisconsin or Missouri, there was no move to take back territory belonging to taxpayers, not some hotel.
First player out the door - my new hero - was Jason Giambi. As he headed briskly toward the bus, head down, a little kid shouted his name and darted past the refrigerator-size security guy.
"Can I get your autograph, please?" the kid asked.
"Hey kid," the security guy said. "You gotta stay behind the rope like I tol' you'se."
"Sure," Giambi said to the kid, ignoring the hotel stooge. "Got a pen?"
Good for Giambi. He gets it. Too many others don't.
That's why I decided to conduct a survey to see if a distinction could be drawn between jerks and nonjerks on both All-Star rosters. My trusted research assistant, who is 10 years old, helped with the project.
We had a few rules: No bothering a player when he was with his family. No interrupting a conversation between a player and someone else. No screaming or shouting at a player as he emerged from a hotel elevator or a cab. And absolutely no begging.
We had a plan, too. The logistics were simple. I sat in the lobby with my eye on the bank of elevators. My 10-year-old associate sat in another chair with his eye on the front door.
"Bud Selig," I announced.
Right away, the 10-year-old headed toward the commissioner. Selig was walking and talking, arms gesturing, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the kid. He stopped and signed the ball. Good for you, Bud.
Some players smiled and signed right away, even conversing as they scratched out a signature. Some simply shook their head and walked right past him. A few pretended nobody was there and never even acknowledged the kid or the request.
Here are some results of this nonscientific, deeply prejudiced survey: Jason Giambi of the Yankees, Jason Varitek of the Red Sox, Kerry Wood from the Cubs, Dimitri Young, Tigers, Barry Zito of the A's and Jamie Moyer of the Seattle Mariners were all terrific.
Ichiro Suzuki of the Seattle Mariners was the worst. He'd look at the kids as if they were beggars. And please don't start with the language barrier as an excuse. The guy knows what he's doing.
Mike Scioscia, Angels and American League manager? He stopped, shook hands, spoke with kids for a few minutes, posed for pictures, signed anything put in front of him. San Francisco Giant Dusty Baker was similar to Scioscia. Tony La Russa waving kids off as if he was too busy to stop and sign. Yankee Jorge Posada: Nice guy. His teammate Alfonso Soriano: unapproachable. Atlanta Brave Gary Sheffield: marvelous. San Francisco Giant Barry Bonds: awful.
The survey was done with the realization that these guys get hounded 24-7 by autograph seekers. And too many of them are merely looking for a signature on a ball, a shirt, a hat or a picture in order to sell the stuff at ridiculous prices.
But even that's no excuse for the way some athletes behave toward young fans. But at least Giambi and some others understand that, given the cultural, athletic and entertainment options available to youngsters today, it's no longer enough to know how to play the game. These guys have to grow their game as well, and a smile and handshake are often just about the best marketing tools available.
Sori's attitude after last season hasn't been good.
Comment