A Different Slant On Autographs

 

The Black Death had a rival scourge in the Middle Ages. Call it The Black Ink because according to historians the pursuit of autographs dates back to this period. It seems the hunt for signatures of the famous came about after the hunt for religious relics waned.

 

Centuries after bubonic plague had been largely erased, Albert Einstein weighed in with his scientific view on the autograph terming it the last vestige of cannibalism.

 

After 25 years of watching the signature savageness as a sports columnist, including seeing grown men push children out of the way in pursuit of autograph, I think Einstein was being too kind.

 

But something really cool happened last weekend that changed my viewpoint. An autograph show was held in a hotel lobby in the historic town of Gettysburg and instead of home-run heroes and Hall-of-Fame slam dunkers and Olympic gold medalists, the “heroes” signing their signatures truly were heroes. Specifically, they numbered nearly half of the 79 current surviving recipients of the Medal of Honor – our nation’s highest military award.

 

If I collected inked autographs, these warriors’ John Hancocks would be on my Most Wanted List.

 

Instead, over the years I have collected autograph of a different slant: oddball stories from athletes I’ve interviewed. Let me share a few.

 

“I am frequently asked to sign Pennzoil cans,” shared Arnold Palmer, who has done countless TV commercials for the petroleum product.

 

Similarly, Hall of Fame pitcher – and Advil pitchman – Nolan Ryan said he often gets asked to autograph bottles of the pain reliever.

 

“I enjoy people, so I don’t mind autograph requests at all,” legendary broadcaster Vin Scully began. “Why not sign? They’re paying me a compliment by asking.”

 

And what are some of the stranger “compliments” he’s had?

 

“I’ve signed a lot of baseballs as you can imagine, but also golf balls and even a hockey puck which is sort of strange, I should think.

 

“Paper napkins seem popular,” Scully continued, “even dirty napkins. I think it’s all they have on hand. I don’t expect them to keep it, but I sign anyway because hopefully they will keep the moment.”

 

“I’ve signed dollar bills for homeless people who you know were going to spend it and not save it,” echoed Olympic gymnastics champion Kerri Strug. “And I’ve signed first-graders’ body parts with pencils – which is hard to do.”

 

Skin is popular from head to toe. I’ve seen Magic Johnson sign a bald head with a black Sharpie marker and Muhammad Ali do so on kids’ arms, legs and feet. But the most memorable thing I saw Ali autograph was a jogging bra . . .

 

. . . being worn by the young woman.

 

Speaking of dirty laundry, Olympic softball gold medalist Kim Maher added this footnote to my signature collection: “A kid handed me a sock to autograph – a gross, dirty sock!”

 

Did the former Buena High star sign it?

 

Maher: “Oh, yeah, of course.”

 

Olympic marathon champion Frank Shorter can relate: “Over the years I’ve been asked to sign some pretty grungy running shoes.”

 

Echoed Billy Mills, America’s last Olympic gold-medal winner in the 10,000 meters in 1964: “I was asked by a school fundraiser to send an autographed pair of shoes. ‘The worse-smelling the better,’ they said.” He sent a pair he’d worn only a couple times.

 

More memorable laundry. “The oddest thing I’ve been asked to autograph is a diaper,” Carl Lewis replied, chuckling at the memory. The nine-time Olympic gold medalist went on: “Luckily it wasn’t on the baby at the time – the mom pulled it out of a bag. I’d have had to draw the line at signing a dirty diaper, I think.”

 

Fellow Olympic sprinter Jon Drummond might have crossed that line, noting: “I was once asked to sign a baby’s diaper – while the baby was wearing it.”

 

Bottom line, did he sign?

 

“Yep,” Drummond answered. “If they kept the autograph, I hope they changed the diaper before it was too late.”

 

What would Einstein think?

 

I think a soiled napkin suddenly seems like a nice keepsake.

 

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for the Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. His new memoir WOODEN & ME is now available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.