In the earlier Jordan/Seaver story I was referring to, he goes more deeply into the circumstances behind that autograph Seaver sent to his grandson. That he was estranged from his daughter and hadn't met his grandson or had only just met him maybe once in passing. One day his daughter calls him out of the blue and said his grandson was just discovering baseball and was nuts for it and asked if he knew any ballplayers that he could get an autograph from. He had been sort of out of circulation and didn't have any contemporary figures he could call on, so he calls Seaver, they shoot the shit for a while, and he coyly asks if he could send his grandkid an autograph. He didn't come right out and say that his reconciliation with his daughter and grandson was on the line, but the gravity got across, and somehow Seaver, who has little time anymore for all the sorry saps who worship him, went overboard for this guy who calls him every now and then only to bust his balls. Sends his grandkid the full package: autographed photo and personal letter with references to his respect for the kid's grandfather, and how he hears the kid has a great future. (Moral of the story: If you meet Tom Seaver, give him hellish grief instead of the sycophancy. He'll respect that.) My other memory was that Tom mentioned a favorite dog (a lab, surely) he had from his playing days named Slider. Jordan decided to bust on him and told him if he had another dog named Curveball, he'd have won 400 games. Seaver, who rarely threw a curve and almost never for strikes got all serious and introspective and said, "I could never grasp the philsophy of the curveball."