Meeting Your Idol: A Good Idea Or Not? We Want To Hear Your Stories

SAUGUS, MA — Very rarely do I write first-person accounts or editorials, but an unforgettable afternoon Sunday prompted me to open that door a bit, and I wish to hear from readers who may have been in the same boat at some stage of their lives.

Many people believe in an old adage, "Never meet your idols," and cite various reasons, the most common of which is finding out in many instances the person is really just a human being like you and me and may no longer seem justified in being high on that pedestal.

After my experience Sunday, I will never feel that way, for I had the opportunity to spend a considerable amount of time with my favorite Major League Baseball player of all time, Rick Burleson.

For full disclosure, I have been a journalist for more than four decades, starting when I was still a junior in high school. I recently came across my very first paid article, covering Fermi sports for the Enfield Press for a whopping 10 bucks a pop in 1982. Fortunately, I make a tad more than that now, and actually look forward to retiring in about 35 years (I'll be 93 then).

Over the course of my career, I have interviewed some of the biggest names in sports and entertainment - Magic Johnson, Bill Cosby, Joe Pesci, Rob Gronkowski, The Miz (did I say sports entertainment?). It has never fazed me; it is part of my job.

I only recall getting awestruck on two occasions. Once was a few years ago at the Basketball Hall of Fame induction ceremony, when I got to shake hands with the legendary Bill Russell. Arguably the greatest champion in the history of team sports, he was also noted for being reclusive; he did not even attend his own Hall of Fame induction. I had no idea he would show up this time; in fact, I was so stunned, I couldn't even think of anything to say except what an honor it was to shake his hand.

Getting back to Sunday - I know some of you are saying, "Who is Rick Burleson?" As a teenager in the late 1970s, all of my friends who were Red Sox fans liked Carl Yastrzemski, or Carlton Fisk, or Luis Tiant, or Jim Rice, or Fred Lynn. I was the only one who actually wore a Rick Burleson T-shirt, complete with Burleson 7 on the back.

I always liked "The Rooster" because even though he probably had the least natural talent of all the Sox players, he made up for it by playing the game the way it's supposed to be played: 100 percent hustle 100 percent of the time, grit, fire, competitiveness, and did I mention hustle? Anyway, he lives in California and rarely comes East, but he and his wife Karen were in Boston for a few days, and my friend Phil Castinetti, who owns Sportsworld (New England's largest sports memorabilia store) arranged for Rick to appear at the store and sign autographs.

Despite Saugus being over 100 miles from my house, I made the journey; after all, we're talking RICK BURLESON here. Despite being the first fan there, I waited until everyone else had gotten their autographs and left, figuring there would be an opportunity to chat without having people getting impatient in line behind me. Bullseye!

Phil, Rick and I must have spent over half an hour talking about everything under the sun, including the heartbreaking defeats in the 1975 World Series and 1978 one-game playoff with the New York Yankees, favorite teammates, his coaching days with various pro organizations, recent rule changes in pro baseball. I even got to tell him about an incident that happened 44 years ago.

In 1979 (long before the days of eBay and professional autograph hounds), I wrote Rick a letter at Fenway Park, and included three baseball cards for him to sign. One of them was a rare 1977 card by a Canadian company called O-Pee-Chee, written in both English and French.

About two weeks after sending the letter,I got my return envelope back, with two cards signed by Rick. Alas, the card written in two languages was not among them, so I penned a second letter, explaining the situation. A few weeks later, a package arrived at my house.

Inside the package was a handwritten full-page letter from Rick on Red Sox stationery, apologizing for not returning all of the cards. He said he used to get a fair amount of mail at the ballpark, and sometimes people's cards would get mixed together. He wrote he had tried to find another copy of the O-Pee-Chee card, but had failed to locate one.

"I hope you will accept this team-signed baseball as compensation for my mistake," he concluded, prompting me to open a small box included in the package. It contained a brand-new American League baseball, personalized "To Tim, 1979 Red Sox" with Burleson's autograph directly below the inscription. You name them, they were on there: Yaz, Lynn, Fisk, Rice, Evans, Remy, Zimmer, even scrubs like Stan Papi and Larry Wolfe.

When I finished the story, Rick said, "I'm sorry you never got that card signed." I replied, "That's okay, because I'll get it now!" When I had first arrived at the store, I asked Phil if he had any '77 O-Pee-Chees, and sure enough, there was one Burleson in the pile. That card is now signed and added to my kids' collection.

Rick got a kick out of the story, and his wife thought it was hilarious and said she was going to tell their grandkids about it.

During his playing days, Burleson was known as one of the fiercest competitors ever to take the field. His former teammate Bill Lee once said of him, "Some guys didn't like to lose, but Rick got angry if the score was even tied." What that in mind, I was surprised how soft-spoken and genuinely polite he as - not just to me, but to all the fans who came to the shop to meet him.

Was meeting my idol a disappointment? Not in any way, shape or form. If anything, getting to spend time with him and hear those stories further cemented my impression of him as not only a great ballplayer, but an even better person. Many of the prima donnas today could take a lesson from this man and others like him.

That's it for me. How about you? Have you ever had a chance to interact with a celebrity you grew up admiring? Tell us your story in the comments section.