In July 2017, my wife, Nancy, and I were having a late lunch on the stately veranda at the Otesaga Resort Hotel in Cooperstown, N.Y. We were attending baseball’s Hall of Fame weekend.
I looked across the mostly-empty veranda and spotted Bob Gibson seated at another table.
“Oh my God, it’s Bob Gibson,” I whispered to Nancy, filling her in on the basic details of how Gibson became one of my boyhood heroes.
She prodded me to introduce myself and get my photo taken with Gibson. I was nervous. I knew about his reputation as a fiercely private man and someone who’d had a tempestuous relationship with reporters.