I've always said that growing up, I got to watch 4 athletes that I consider to be larger-than-life: Roberto Clemente, Muhammad Ali, Wilt Chamberlin, & Joe Namath. So last Mon. when Broadway Joe made an appearance at a book store on the South Side of Pittsburgh to sign his new autobiography, Namath, I knew I had to be there.
The session was scheduled to run from 6:00 8:00, so I figured I could arrive at 5:00 & grab a spot at the head of the line & be in & outta there. Wrong. People who had been buying the book the past 2 weeks received "line vouchers" guaranteeing them a spot in line. The vouchers ran in alphabetical categories, which each letter representing a group of 25-30 people. When I arrived & bought my 3 books, I found I was in Category N, which meant that some 300 or more people would get to meet Broadway Joe before I would.
With time to kill, I wondered what I'd say to him. I feel like I can hold my own discussing baseball with a baseball player, but football is another matter. I read the little card they handed me with the evening's rules, apparently put together by either Broadway Joe's agent or his publisher. He would sign his name only; he wouldn't personalize it at all. He wouldn't sign anything but his book. He wouldn't pose for a picture with you, altho' you were free to take a picture of him doing his thing.
I found a seat & looked thru the book. It comes with a free DVD of his career highlights & has a lotta nice pictures. It has chapters titled "It's All Right, Ma, I'm Only Bleeding," "Lost in the Supermarket," & "The Right Profile." Could it be that Broadway Joe is into the same music as me?
Finally at 6:00 Broadway Joe appeared at the designated signing area, looking like your favorite uncle in wire-rimmed glasses, a light green sweater with a zipper collar, black pants, & black athletic shoes. He grabbed the microphone & thanked everybody for coming & told us how wonderful it was to be there. The books & line vouchers had sold out all the way thru Category Z, but he soon sent word out thru the store's employees that nobody should worry about the 8:00 quitting time; the session would end when everybody who wanted a signed book had one.
I watched the folks thru Category A go thru & it soon became clear that the rules that were printed on the little card were going out the window. He laughed, shook hands, & talked to everybody who approached him. He posed for pictures. He personalized books when asked. He signed football cards & mini-Jets helmets & anything else he was asked to sign. Then again, we'd be disappointed if Broadway Joe conformed to somebody else's rules. He was great with everybody.
After 8:00, it was finally my turn. Broadway Joe is the same size as the average guy---you wouldn't guess he played football if you didn't know already---but when I shook his hand I noticed that his hand is huge. I told him, "You were a bigger-than-life character to so many of us when I was growing up." He thanked me & asked if I were a life-long Pittsburgher. I said yes & that Id married a Beaver County girl. His face lit up (Broadway Joe is from nearby Beaver County) & he asked me where she was from. When I told him, he ticked off names like the Aliquippa Indians & Hopewell Vikings. He may be Broadway Joe but he still knew his Western PA high school football!
As he handed me my 3rd book, he studied my face as I asked him, finally, "Do you ever sit back in your chair sometimes at night & think, 'Wow! I caused the NFL/AFL merger!'?" He let out a big laugh & shook his head vigorously & said, "Nawwwww, I try to live in reality." I thanked him & made my exit. Broadway Joe may not think he caused the merger, but I know he did.
I saw a news truck outside & thought, you'll wait a long time. I was so impressed. This was the feel-good moment of the century, the fact that this football legend's book signing was gonna run over by 2-3 hours, just so he could spend a minute or 2 with each fan & make them all feel important! Why can't all celebrities be that nice? I never thought I'd say this about anybody, but it was truly worth a 3-hour wait to talk to him for a minute. And I was glad I could make Broadway Joe Namath laugh.
It was the least I could do, right?
The session was scheduled to run from 6:00 8:00, so I figured I could arrive at 5:00 & grab a spot at the head of the line & be in & outta there. Wrong. People who had been buying the book the past 2 weeks received "line vouchers" guaranteeing them a spot in line. The vouchers ran in alphabetical categories, which each letter representing a group of 25-30 people. When I arrived & bought my 3 books, I found I was in Category N, which meant that some 300 or more people would get to meet Broadway Joe before I would.
With time to kill, I wondered what I'd say to him. I feel like I can hold my own discussing baseball with a baseball player, but football is another matter. I read the little card they handed me with the evening's rules, apparently put together by either Broadway Joe's agent or his publisher. He would sign his name only; he wouldn't personalize it at all. He wouldn't sign anything but his book. He wouldn't pose for a picture with you, altho' you were free to take a picture of him doing his thing.
I found a seat & looked thru the book. It comes with a free DVD of his career highlights & has a lotta nice pictures. It has chapters titled "It's All Right, Ma, I'm Only Bleeding," "Lost in the Supermarket," & "The Right Profile." Could it be that Broadway Joe is into the same music as me?
Finally at 6:00 Broadway Joe appeared at the designated signing area, looking like your favorite uncle in wire-rimmed glasses, a light green sweater with a zipper collar, black pants, & black athletic shoes. He grabbed the microphone & thanked everybody for coming & told us how wonderful it was to be there. The books & line vouchers had sold out all the way thru Category Z, but he soon sent word out thru the store's employees that nobody should worry about the 8:00 quitting time; the session would end when everybody who wanted a signed book had one.
I watched the folks thru Category A go thru & it soon became clear that the rules that were printed on the little card were going out the window. He laughed, shook hands, & talked to everybody who approached him. He posed for pictures. He personalized books when asked. He signed football cards & mini-Jets helmets & anything else he was asked to sign. Then again, we'd be disappointed if Broadway Joe conformed to somebody else's rules. He was great with everybody.
After 8:00, it was finally my turn. Broadway Joe is the same size as the average guy---you wouldn't guess he played football if you didn't know already---but when I shook his hand I noticed that his hand is huge. I told him, "You were a bigger-than-life character to so many of us when I was growing up." He thanked me & asked if I were a life-long Pittsburgher. I said yes & that Id married a Beaver County girl. His face lit up (Broadway Joe is from nearby Beaver County) & he asked me where she was from. When I told him, he ticked off names like the Aliquippa Indians & Hopewell Vikings. He may be Broadway Joe but he still knew his Western PA high school football!
As he handed me my 3rd book, he studied my face as I asked him, finally, "Do you ever sit back in your chair sometimes at night & think, 'Wow! I caused the NFL/AFL merger!'?" He let out a big laugh & shook his head vigorously & said, "Nawwwww, I try to live in reality." I thanked him & made my exit. Broadway Joe may not think he caused the merger, but I know he did.
I saw a news truck outside & thought, you'll wait a long time. I was so impressed. This was the feel-good moment of the century, the fact that this football legend's book signing was gonna run over by 2-3 hours, just so he could spend a minute or 2 with each fan & make them all feel important! Why can't all celebrities be that nice? I never thought I'd say this about anybody, but it was truly worth a 3-hour wait to talk to him for a minute. And I was glad I could make Broadway Joe Namath laugh.
It was the least I could do, right?
