re: Celebrity story you viewed first hand.

A few once-upon-a-time sports versions (nothing crazy)...

#1, Year: 2000

Scene: Cooperstown NY

Place: Dusty parking lot of a Diner owned and operated by New York Yankee third baseman Clete Bloyer.

Three Generations of boys went to Cooperstown, NY for a Baseball Hall of Fame trip for a few days, tipped off that Clete Boyer often meets & greets patrons of his Diner. So off we went for lunch expressively for the chance to chat with the Mickey Mantle-era third bagger.

Sat down to an almost empty Diner. When asked about Boyer, the waitress replied, "Oh he just left; You might be able to still catch him before he leaves."

Bolted out of the glass doors into the dusty stone parking lot. Looked around. Nobody. Suddenly a big ol' pick up truck is tearing out toward us. We wave. Pick up truck stops and the window rolls down. Yes, it's Clete Boyer -- smiling and dragging on a cigarette...

Gets out of the truck, sticks a "paper bag" back onto the seat, and greets us politely. He was obviously drinking his lunch but who cares. He stopped just for us and poses for a few photos. Checking the frame through the camera viewfinder, the still smoking Clete has his arms around dad and my son -- whose right eye was almost poked twice with the dayum Marlboro.)

I switch places with my son to pose with Boyer and dad. "Clete, I just spoke to Phil Linz -- he said he was the better third baseman." Boyer's 80 Proof answers: "He was...*mumble...mumble*." Good sense of humor. Impressions: Bigger guy than I thought; A happy, gracious host and gentleman (Pictures were great.)

#2, Year: 1984

Scene: Atlantic City Casino

Taking an elevator up to the Casino floor with GF (no pics), doors open: BOOM! Sugar Ray Leonard RIGHT THERE for some reason -- looking shocked. No one else nearby. I immediately recognized him and said hello, extending my hand to shake his; he looked toward his two bodyguards as if asking with his eyes whether it was ok. And he did. Immediate Impression: Much smaller in person. No small talk.

#3, Year: Early 80s

Place: Jersey Shore beach resort

Scene: Boardwalk Game of Skill (tossing softballs in a fruit basket)

Pittsburgh Pirate, Willie Stargell stopped by with his son, trying to drop softballs into the basket to win a big stuffed animal. I was the game operator. Stargell took it seriously, focusing hard, arcing and spinning the ball high -- his technique was great. But...I had to keep on reminding Mr. Stargell,"Ya gotta watch that Foul Line -- you can't extend over it".

Now into the game for more than a few tries, "Wow Willie, 474 home runs." That broke his concentration and on focusing on the balls and baskets in that moment. Slowly and seriously peered down at me and spoke just one this single phrase during his entire game session: "FOUR-HUNDRED SEVENTY FIVE". Me: "Oh yeah -- that's right". Then he got back into his task at hand.

No, Willie did not win a prize.