I can tell you a little bit about Hammerin Henry Aaron from Alabama. Hank was a celebrity autograph guest at a baseball card convention I sponsored in 1986. I have nothing but good things to say about this man.

When I made arrangements to have "Bad Henry" come out and sign autographs for me, a gentleman's agreement was made over the phone between his booking agent Bob Allen and myself.

We settled on the date August 31st, 1986.

There was a small problem with the date we arranged. Ted Turner chose that date to have and Oldtimers game in Atlanta, and he never thought to check with Hank to see if he had anything on the calendar for that date.

Bob Allen, contacted me in a panic when they realized the conflict, and asked me if there was any way I could find another date for my show. I explained that I had already invested a considerable amount of money in advertising and told him that it would be devastating to my credibility, as it was my first celebrity guest.

I was really nervous when he called Hank back, and I expected that they were going to bail out on me because we hadn't formalized our arrangement with a written agreement. But to my surprise, Hank told Bob that a deal is a deal and that Ted Turner should have checked with him before he put his Oldtimer's game on the calendar.

Can you even imagine the embarrasment for the Braves, having an oldtimers game without their biggest star?

We flew him out first class the night before. When my Mom picked him up at the airport in Portland, he walked right past a team of little leaguers who were all oblivious to their brush with greatness.

We put him up in a fancy bed and breakfast. Hank went jogging the next morning and got whistled at when he trotted past the women's correctional institution.

At the show, Hank was smiling and friendly. He really was a great guest. I was proud to have him at my show.

I remember one guy brought a baseball and told Hank it was his 500th homer ball. He laughed and said, "Someone keeps erasing my name off this ball, this is the fourth time I have signed the damn thing."

Another fan came up to the stage and broke open her blouse and asked him to sign her breast. Without missing a beat, he grabbed her boob and signed his name on it. She told him that she would never wash it off, and he said, "That's a little more than I needed to know."

Kids that came in throngs to meet the great hero, most of them too young to have ever seen him play. They were starstruck none-the-less. This was a baseball legend, and he was here in the flesh.

While Hank was sitting in our gazebo greeting guests shaking hands and signing autographs, I got the word that the announcers on the Superstation said that Hank was ill that day and unable to attend the game. Hank and I both got a chuckle out of that one.

Hank took my Mom out for dinner at the Cattle company restaurant in Portland. The waitress there seemed a bit startled to see a white woman having dinner with a black man. Mom told me that Hank ordered some deep fried zuchinni, and the waitress told her they were all out. Minutes later, another person ordered and received zuchinni. Sad to see that kind of racism in this day and age.

Hank told me that he was offered a large sum of money to blow off my show and do the game, and added that he wouldn't have missed my show for anything. He complimented my efforts, told me my show had a unique setting, was well run and simply outstanding.

He will always be the King of Slam in my book.

Learn more about this author, Michael Mccormick.
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