Mattingly remembers a couple of fans from 18 years ago

 It’s hard to like the New York Yankees.

 When they’re not winning World Series titles, they always seem to be in the thick of the playoff races. They consistently have the largest payroll in baseball, seemingly dolling out an obscene amount of dollars to get an all star caliber player whenever they wish. Their players are often considered self-absorbed, overpaid prima donnas (i.e. Reggie Jackson and Dave Winfield) with a penchant for whining. Their overlord, er, owner, George Steinbrenner is considered the epitome of the overbearing, evil boss who hires managers just long enough to berate them and watch them squirm, before firing them with little or no apology.

 Yes, no doubt the Yankees make it easy not to like them, just like most legendary sports franchises have a penchant for doing.

 However, the reason I became a Yankee fan was because I became enamored with both the on-field play and the off the field class displayed by the Yankee who would become my all-time favorite baseball player, Don Mattingly.

 When I heard that Mattingly’s number 18 jersey was going to be retired Thursday night at Greer Stadium by the Nashville Sounds I quickly called my father in child-like excitement, begging for a ticket so I could get just one more glimpse of Donnie Baseball.

I hadn’t seen Mattingly in person since 1981, when he was a fresh faced 19-year old, playing for the Sounds when they were a fledgling Double-A ball club playing in the Southern League.

Mattingly only played one year for the Sounds, but to fans like myself he will always be a special part of Nashville baseball lore.

I still remember the first time I had a face to face encounter with my hero. I was an eight-year-old snot nosed kid looking for an autograph for my Nashville Sounds program. Mattingly not only took the time to sign it for me, he even took the time to talk to me for a few minutes. I was hooked forever on baseball that very day.

When my dad and I arrived at Greer Stadium on Thursday we stood under the worn-out bleachers by the left field entrance talking a little Sounds history, while at the same time attempting to dodge lightning bolts. In the midst of our conversation, we saw a figure walking down the concourse area accompanied by two Sounds “handlers” (a.k.a. goons) complete with walkie-talkies. My father immediately made eye contact with Mattingly.

“How are you all doing?” said Mattingly

“Pretty good Don, how are you?” my dad replied astonished.

The conversation did not stop there. Before we know it Don is heading down the concourse and over to talk to us.

Note: By this point both of the “handlers” are looking quite alarmed with a “What is he doing going over there to talk with those losers?” look on their faces.

“So what have you been doing Don?” my dad asks.

 “I’ve been raising horses on my farm,” he said.

 My dad had to get me in on the act.

 “Right over here is probably one of your biggest fans,” my father said as he point to me.

 “Oh, really,” said Mattingly as he shook my hand.

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” I said, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

 I was ecstatic; I just got to shake hands with my childhood hero. My dad, however, was not finished yet.

 “In fact, when he played little league he used to give that tug to his pants just like you used to do when you went up to bat,” he said.

 Thanks, dad.

 He talked to us for a few more minutes then bid us farewell after shaking both our hands again. My father and I, needless to say, were both in shock after our chance encounter.

 “He had no idea who the hell I was, but man was that nice of him to come down to talk to us,” dad commented.

 Unfortunately, I have no physical evidence to support that this meeting ever happened. I didn’t even think about taking out the baseball cards I had brought for him to sign. My dad had his digital cameral under his arm, but we didn’t think about asking for a picture. We were truly distracted by the moment.

 It’s a moment that my dad and I will never forget. As a fan I hope that for ever obnoxious ungrateful Albert Belle clone out there that there is another Don Mattingly who actually acts like he cares about the people who pay their hard earned money to see him play.

 Mattingly’s career on the field was something special. He was a nine-time gold glove recipient at first base, the American League batting champion in 1984, and American League MVP in 1985. He played 11 years and 122 days, finishing with over .300 career average, and well over 2,000 hits. His career was shortened by constant back problems stemming from an injured disc. If he had been able to continue playing and stay healthy, it would have been a foregone conclusion that he would have reached the 3,000 hit plateau much like Wade Boggs and Tony Gwynn.

I believe Mattingly belongs in Cooperstown, but I am unabashedly biased. We should all find room in our lives to have the qualities that Don Mattingly has: Hard work, determination and kindness.

I just hope that the Hall of Fame can find room for him as well.