I've probably told the story before of what a dick Billy Ripken was to me, and other people, when I came across him as a 23-year-old clueless reporter. I worked a small daily paper in Maryland, mostly writing about high-school sports but when the Orioles had day games we could call them up and get press passes so we'd divide the games between us. The first time I got the chance to go turned out to be a very humbling major league debut to say the least. I was very nervous and so resolved just to follow the other writers and just do what they did. They hung out on the field watching batting practice and so I did too. I kept score in the press box, but was positioned a few rows back. After the game (a 6-5 win for the Red Sox) the writers all rushed over the elevator (this was Memorial Stadium) so I got in too. When they walked out, I followed them. We were waiting outside a door and when it opened, we walked into the visitor's clubhouse. As it turned out I had followed the Boston writers and not the Baltimore ones. That was okay though. I figured I'd get a quote from the winners then catch up with the O's. I spoke briefly to Wade Boggs who gave me some bullshit cliche quotes. ("we take em one game at a time") and zero insight. Me and Wade were also wearing the same model sneakers (white Nikes with a spongy red tongue, he was putting his on while I tried talking to him) but he didn't find that interesting as an ice breaker. Whatever. I exited to go get my O's quotes but... I couldn't find the clubhouse. It was exactly like Spinal Tap, I was walking around the guts of the stadium for what seemed like a really long time, encountering the same deadends everywhere I turned etc. By the time I found it Frank Robinson's postgame chat with reporters was just ending and many players were already showered and packing out. The only player in the clubhouse I was recognized well was Billy Ripken, so I decided he would have to be my quote. While I was waiting to approach him Ripken was on the bench changing. The O's had a retarded guy who worked as a clubby, pushing around a laundry cart collecting dirty unis and jockstraps and towels from the room. I watched Billy Ripken take off each of his stinky white sanitaries and toss them each into the cart by banking them off the retarded guy's face. I finally approached him: "Billy do you have a minute?" "No." "Sorry?" "You asked me if I had a minute, and I said no." End of interview. I was so humiliated by the whole experience, getting lost, getting shit quotes and getting no home-team stuff, I would up doing something I never did before or since, which was "steal" a quote from Robinson appearing in the AP write up hoping no one would notice, and of course no one did since nobody ever read my game story. What I really should have done was ask about and write about the sweatsock incident.