It’s still a vivid memory. I’m walking through the parking lot across the street from Bright House Field, and a taller, older man is charging straight at me. He’s pointing at me, an angry pair of eyes fixed on me. I begin to shake.
He closes in on me.
“Why the hell did you rank Pete Rose so low on the Greatest Phillies list?!”
Within an instant we’re laughing. Well, he’s patting my back and laughing, glad to meet me and give me a scare. I’m still a little jumpy from the joke, but I realize he’s a good guy and, at the end of the day, my ranking of Pete Rose at No.