My mom was down at Phillies spring training in 1983 and made it her mission to get autographs for me as a gift. She bought a cheap souvenir ball and had about 12, including most of the stars sign it.
She knew Schmidt was my favorite, so she approached him several times during the day but he kept giving excuses and saying "later". Finally after they were done practice, she asked him again and he said that he would sign after his shower. So she waited. And waited. Then she saw a figure briskly walking across the field behind the clubhouse. She sprinted around the fence and chased him, yelling the whole time. When she caught up to him, she scolded him about lying to her and that he could have just said no. He apologized, signed the ball, and reached into his duffel and handed her a pair of batting gloves.
I just wish I could have seen my barely 5' 95lb mom confronting the greatest third baseman of all time.
BTW, the signatures all bled like crazy into indecipherable blurs, and I wore the batting gloves out. And I have had nothing but pleasant encounters with Mike.
