Famous people you stopped and "hassled"

I was heading to some work meeting on a Saturday morning and was flying out of O'Hare airport and Mike Ditka walks right by me going the opposite way. I turn around and called; "hey, coach?". So he stops and I tell him some lame thing that I really liked this steak houses and I trust he was doing well. He mumbled back and then left. The dude behind me was impressed that I stopped Ditka - I took it all in stride.

I regret not telling him I liked his role in the "Kicking and Screaming" movie.

David S. Wallens.

Repeatedly.

Jimmy Clark, Watkins Glen F1 GP, 1966: he was sitting in the back seat of a Thunderbird with a small Team Lotus sticker near the tech center, hiding out and chewing his fingernails. "Please Mr. Clark, if you'll sign my program I won't tell anyone where you are." It worked. My hero.

Second one: Rick Mears: At th4 Pikes Peak Hillclimb the year after his retirement, Roger and their father were running Dodge Trucks, Rick was hanging out. In those days, after qualifying there was a big "Mom Unser Chili Lunch" in downtown Manitou Springs. I was covering the event for GRM. I'm not an autograph kind of guy (except in very special circumstances), but I was watching Rick and this jerk comes up to him (noticed his Mears Gang polo shirt)and starts telling him that he has some tips for the team on lines through certain turns. Rick was gracious as always, and when the guy left, I got my autograph and looked at him and said "he didn't have a clue who you were, did he?" Rick grinned and said "Nope - isn't it great?" One of my other heroes.

Then there was the time I was covering the Peak another year and Bobby Unser insisted on signing my press pass, without asking. One of the fastest guys ever, also the owner of possibly the biggest ego in motorsports.

Phil Hill, Coronado vintage races back in the nineties. I had taken his picture with his wife Alma in the pace car the previous year. I had the photo mounted behind a cheap matte and carried it with me the following year from RI to SoCal in anticipation that he'd be back so I could get an autograph. Luckily he was there. The race announcer was interviewing him in the "tower," so I waited outside and made my move. Nobody else around. He was very gracious and signed the picture.

I've done that many times over the years with famous and not so famous car people, including Sterling Moss, Dan Gurney, Bob Bondurant, John Fitch, Sam Posey, Vic Edelbrock (and daughters), Syd Silverman/Randy Riggs, Bill Sadler (look him up), etc., and I have a pretty good collection of autographed photos.

At Road America Paul Newman was walking down the hill in the paddock and my brother stopped him to ask for a picture - he was kind to my brother and said he couldn't because he was late to qualifying but he would if he wasn't in a hurry.

I met Peter Brock and John Morton at the JCCS and they both went out of their way to show kindness that I couldn't hassle either one of them.

In 1994 I was rollerblading back to the dorms at Umass Amherst. I was going way too fast and really out of control when in knocked down Marcus Camby (future NBA star). We both went sprawling and the rest of the UMass team circled around us saying things like "ooh, he gonna kick yo ass". I hopped up, picked him up and dusted him off, asked him if he was ok (he was a little shakey and surprised I'd just lifted him bodily from the ground). Then I skated off.

Well I didn't hassle him, but I came across Brian Redman in the paddock at one of the vintage races at Road Atlanta years ago.

I used to autocross with this guy from Stargate:

Also worked on a couple of his cars in my shop. We have some mutual friends.

I hassled him a LOT. :D

I stopped and chatted briefly with Reba McIntyre in the pit lane at Mid-Ohio. Then I got a picture with her.

I pigged out on caviar at a book show with Jim Davis, creator of Garfield. I was 9 so I am quite certain I hassled him a good deal, but he never let on.

In 1990 or so I was walking down a busy campus street with my buddy when Gallagher walking the other direction made eye contact with me. I being a dumb kid turned to my compadre and said "dude, I think that's Gallagher" and he (being the type of guy with absolutely zero filters in place) said "hey Gallagher, can I get a ticket to your show tomorrow?"in a voice loud enough that a man 15 yards away and opening was guaranteed to hear.

The dude spun around with rage and n his eyes and started yelling at us, poking me in the chest with his index finger hard and ranted that he didn't want us shiny happy people letting the world know where he was, he was just trying to get something to eat and now we made a scene and everyone was gonna bother him now.

Now 1990 was a pretty big lull in his fame and he wasn't exactly incognito. He was in the berking striped shirt and hat

Might as well had been carrying the huge mallet. Although I guarantee I would have had a mallet shaped dent in my face if he had.

Dude had one hell of a short fuse

Mario Cipollini told me so shut up once.

That's this guy...

Walking through Hangar B at Whitman Field, and at a booth was Bob Hoover. HOLY E36 M3! THAT'S BOB HOOVER! Got an autograph and told him how much I enjoyed his airshow routine.

Dickey Betts from the bosstones gave me a pen, and then I lost it.

I was at Road America (again) and I was trying for a cool work Christmas card. I gave my film camera to a random stranger and made both of these drivers shake my hand for a photograph - all done quickly and hoping for a good shot - these were the pre-selfie days.

I gave Andy Reid a ride home from near Cape Cod back to Connecticut. I questioned him relentlessly about the vintage car market for several hours. I'm pretty sure he couldn't wait to get away from me.

I also shook hands with Carrol Shelby.

One of my college roommates and I had an internship on an "upscale," niche cattle farm in NY, where we had every other weekend off. Our apartment was across the street from the main barn, in a renovated horse barn. One of our duties on our working weekends was to check the messages on the answering machine in the office of the main barn.

Roommate and I would take turns going over and checking on things every few hours. On one of my turns, there was a message on the machine, guy trying to reach our boss, wanting some advice on his own small farm near by in CT. I told my roommate about it, kind of laughing, because he was looking for "expert" advice. When I told my roommate the guy's name, was Sam Water-something, my roommate said, "what, who!?" I told him I didn't remember for sure. He went right over to listen for himself, and came back, all excited, "holly E36 M3, that's Sam Waterston!!!," my response was, "uhhh, who?" To which he exclaimed "Jack McCoy, from Law and Order!" To which, I said something like, "oh, now which one is he?"

That summer we wound up on Sam's farm on a few occasions, helping out, giving advice, and he came to visit us a few times. Nothing really like Jack McCoy, blue jeans, mud boots, scruffy beard, eager to learn what he could about taking care of his farm, and humble enough to be appreciative of our help. We got pictures together, though those were the days of disposable cameras. Sam even invited us to a taping of the show, but we had to go home before taping began.

I saw a headline the other day where a waiter asked Shaq for a huge tip and apparently he obliged. Couldn't bring myself to read the article because I asked Shaq for a photo together when I waited on him. Now he'd already signed a polo for the female bartender but his buddy rudely said sure if I picked up their tab. I apologized but let it drop that I'd gone to LSU and Shaqs expression puckered a little as I walked away. They left a good tip for what it's worth.

I crossed paths with David E. Davis at Amelia a few years back. NFW was I going to stop him. Now I kind of wish I had. I couldn't bring myself to stop Jack Roush on the starting grid at the CTSCC a couple of years back, either. They were clearing the grid and it looked like he was hurrying to have a word with Jr. before the start. I didn't have the heart. Most of the drivers, though, are fair game and are usually really nice.

Pop and I brushed shoulders with Mario, walking through the paddock at Road America. Like, he walked right between us. Pop said, "Good luck in the race." Mario thanked him.

When I worked at a hobby shop, the CART divers would stop in, during the week before the race at the Milwaukee Mile. I sold thousands of dollars worth of Märklin trains to Rick Mears. Arie Luyendyk lived in the area, and would frequently stop in. He collected die-cast race cars.

My best friends father won the Nobel prize for economics in 1997. I hassled him for pizza in high school, circa 1995, because we were at his house and hungry, as teenage boys usually are.

I also thought that same friend how to do burnouts in his dads then new Jaguar XJR.

All of my experiences with celebrities were either caddying, or else when I met them as part of a meet and greet event.

Best one I had, Brian Urlacher was telling Olin Kreutz to never use (uh, a competitor to a little blue pill) because he wouldn't go down for 8 hours.

I intend to bother Bobby Allison some day, to sign a BRE photo I have that already has Peter Brocks signature on it. I bet he doesn't get asked about his Datsun racing history very much.