Charlie O'Brien

One of the first times I got kicked out of the Oakland Coliseum was when I tried to get Charlie O'Brien's autograph. At this stage in Charlie's career, he was probably the third catcher carried on the Cleveland Indians, so he was on bullpen catcher duty. Probably the crappiest of all major league positions. He was on the visiting team, and didn't have his name on the back of his jersey. I'm not sure how I knew it was him, because honestly, I didn't even know that I knew who he was. Somewhere, however, in my subconscious, I had reserved valuable memory for Charlie O'Brien face recognition. It makes sense, of course, given his long flowing curly golden locks.

Anyways, the security guys didn't like that I was going down to the field, where my bleacher tickets didn't allow. They were definitely hella salty, but good ol' Chuck seemed genuinely excited that I was genuinely excited to have identified him. Chuck was stoked. He made the universal "get me a pen so I can sign something for you" motion. I knew the security guard's patience was wearing thin, but it's not exactly every day that Charlie O'Brien wants to spend quality time with you. So security guard be damned I walked straight down towards the bottom of the stands to chat with Charlie and find out where we were going to hang after the game. The security guard called backup and they grabbed me and escorted me out of the stadium. I'm sure Charlie would have intervened, but he was on the visiting team, so he probably didn't want to start some big thing. It's cool though. I understand. I probably would have acted the same if I were in his position.

Charlie, if you're googling your name and for some reason this page comes up, holler.