Thanks Marty!
I didn’t really think it would happen. Even as a five year old, I knew it was far fetched. But, it can’t hurt to dream, can it?
While attending Summit Elementary in Cincinnati, it was common knowledge that I was a serious Reds fan. Much to my surprise, one of my classmates was the daughter of Reds broadcaster Marty Brennaman. Yes, the Hall-of-Fame-best-broadcaster-in-the-business Marty Brennaman.
Each day when he would pick up his daugther from school, he would say, “Andrew, I can get you any autograph you want. You name it, and I’ll get it for you.” Sorry, Marty. Not good enough. I’ve never been a fan of signatures on paper (or other memorabilia). What’s the big deal? I’d rather meet the person. I’d rather get my picture with them (a la my picture with Johnny Bench, who, ironically, autographed the back of the picture). I’d rather hang out with them, if even for a few minutes, and talk to them. To make a short story long, I passed on the chance to get Eric Davis’s autograph.
“Nah, I want you to bring them to my house,” I said. I pictured twenty-five Reds players - in uniform - standing around in my front yard. It never happened.
Last week, while listening to the Reds game on XM, I emailed this story to Marty in the booth. In the middle of the game, I was quite surprised to hear Marty say, “It was nice to hear from Andrew Dodson down in Frankfort, Kentucky.” He went on to tell his own rendition of the story, and concluded with, “Andy, I’m afraid you made a big mistake.”
If everyone gets fifteen minutes of fame, I felt like this was mine. Hearing Marty tell my story to listeners across the nation was quite an experience. All I could do was laugh. Thanks Marty. You’re the best.
