Story by Steve A. Maze Photo by David Moore
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veryone who knows me is aware of my great love for baseball. To me and my friends who collected baseball cards back in the 1960s, the players were our idols … gods if you will. I didn’t even realize they were human until I was 45 years old. Knowing my love for the sport, Tonya, my daughter, and my granddaughters Katelin and Lauren, treat me to an annual Atlanta Braves game each year as a Father’s Day gift. That might stop, however, due to an incident I was involved in at the Braves stadium last July 3. The kerfuffle story actually began two years earlier when I was in Atlanta to watch the Miami Marlins take on the Braves. I was hoping to get Marlins manager Don Mattingly to sign his 1984 New York Yankees rookie card I had saved just for that occasion. In addition to getting the former Yankee first baseman’s signature, I wanted to meet the great who might be in the Baseball Hall of Fame someday. Unfortunately, it had rained the night before and neither team took batting practice, which is normally the only opportunity to get anything autographed. I was disappointed, to say the least. Unfortunately, the Marlins were playing the Braves last year when the girls took me to the annual game. I was determined to get Mattingly’s autograph.
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hile Lauren was getting Braves players to sign her cap and baseball cards, another fan noticed someone in a Marlins uniform – he looked like Don Mattingly – hitting balls to a third baseman. With my baseball cards in a notebook carrier, I beelined it to the Marlins dugout where, surely, I could get his autograph when he left the field. Dang! I soon recognized it wasn’t Mattingly – just a coach who bore an uncanny resemblance to him. For some reason, the area beside the Marlins dugout was blocked off. But I was determined and made my way behind the dugout. If Mattingly made a pregame appearance, I’d be in prime position to catch him. No sooner had I laid my ball card 54
FEBRUARY | MARCH | APRIL 2022
For an Autograph_ Fanatical fan tries for the big play ... and nearly gets ejected
The signatures Steve got from Don Mattingly were hard-won, but, at least on a personal level, the story behind them just adds to their value. carrier on top of the dugout, than an usher promptly told me to move it. Dang! OK, so I placed it in a chair. That seemed to appease her … at least for the time being. I stood there for what seemed like a week, the blazing heat melting my determination. I was about ready to give up when a familiar figure emerged from the dugout, a first baseman’s glove in hand. Mattingly!
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e walked over to first base and began taking throws from the third
baseman. I patiently waited another 30 minutes, my notebook melting onto the chair behind me. Finally! Mattingly made his way back toward the visitor’s dugout. As he walked past the pitcher’s mound he looked my way and … waved! At me? I glanced around. No one was behind me. Mattingly must have spotted me standing alone next to the dugout and felt sorry for an overweight, sunburned old man melting like cheap ice cream. A gentleman holding his child walked up beside me, apparently having spotted
