Fall From Grace

As a society we are brought up to idolize celebrities and sports features. It is part of our culture, a way to escape from our boring everyday lives. When the opportunity to meet one of these idols arises, a moment to merge fantasy and reality, most people will jump at the chance to fulfill this dream. This is why people stand in line for hours to catch a glimpse of celebrities on the red carpet at award shows or events. Why people will frequent places known as celebrity hot spots. Why signings and meet and greets are always frantic frenzied affairs.

I am a bit reserved about celebrities, considering my career puts me into close proximity with them quite often and it is much nicer to meet them in a relaxed atmosphere than shoving against three hundred other rabid fans dying for just one touch. But even I have those certain celebs that would reduce me to a drooling pile of goo were I ever given the opportunity to meet them. Probably also the reason why this has never happened because no one wants to step over a comatose woman mumbling about someone's smile or how good they smell up close. So I keep the thought of seeing them in person strictly a dream that induces pantie creaming .

In music it would be Dave Matthews. Being a fan of his for several years before he made it big I have liked him for so long the idea of meeting him has petrified into the Holy Grail of celebrity meetings. Meaning if it ever happens I will be looking around for the Second Coming. Ditto with Joseph Fiennes, my favorite movie celebrity. I have actually come close to meeting both of them before, more than once with Dave, but nothing ever came to fruition which in my mind leaves my fantasies involving them untouched.

Because this is the problem with meeting celebrities. It might not always go as planned. You see celebrities in real life and all those Hollywood created personas come crashing down when they do not live up to your high expectations. Because not every celebrity is a nice person, even though it would seem it should be their job to be nice to their fans. I myself have had my share of bad celebrity run-ins while working in TV and radio and could give you a list a mile long of famous people who don't deserve to be famous based on their horrible attitudes. But never have I had a celebrity I myself love fall from grace.

Until last Wednesday.

I am not a huge sports person. Growing up in New England it was required to bleed red and blue and root for the Red Sox and the Patriots. They are my favorite sports teams and the only teams I follow religiously. But sports overall doesn't hold my interest. However, the players on those teams are precious to me. And a few stick out among the rest. Tom Brady is a favorite. Also Manny Ramirez and Curt Shilling.

I also love two previous Red Sox players who have moved onto other teams but still hold a place in my heart. One of them is Trot Nixon. I have loved watching Trot play because he just seemed to love the sport. This was proven to be true when we stumbled upon him playing for the Tuscon Sidewinders at a Las Vegas 51s game afew weeks ago. Having been dropped back to the minors Trot was working his way back to the majors and was playing against the 51s (the farm team for the Dodgers) We love going to watch the 51s play because they are always great games and that day we got the added bonus of seeing one of my favorite players. I was so thrilled to see Trot Nixon play again and waited after the game to get his autograph and give him my thanks for entertaining me all those years he played with the Red Sox. Trot was more than gracious when he came out, signed everyone's items (I even had two balls, one for me and one for my dad) and even took pictures and chatted with us all for a while. It was such a thrill to finally meet him and have such a rewarding experience. A week later he was picked up by the New York Mets and I wish him well.

That was a good meeting. The next one, not so good.

For the past four years while living in Vegas I have been on the lookout for a certain player to show up on the 51s roster. As the Dodgers farm team, any time a Dodger gets injured they come back down to the AAA 51s to recuperate and play in Vegas for a while. And while I don't wish for anyone to get hurt, having someone get injured is only way we could see my absolute favorite baseball player ever. Five times this person has been to Vegas in the five years we have lived here. And all five times we have just missed him. Either we couldn't get to the game or he would get called back up to the bigs right before we were going to go. But last Wednesday I was rewarded for my perseverance because someone had a shin injury. I was finally going to meet Nomar Garciaparra.

I have followed Nomar since his rookie year with the Red Sox way back in the mid 90's. I went to Fenway to see him play and then would go to Jacob's Field in Cleveland when the Red Sox played the Indians. I loved watching him play for my beloved Red Sox and was crushed when he was traded right before my boys won the World Series in 2004. But then he popped up on the Dodgers' team and I thought I may be able to see him play again since I lived in the West now, maybe even breaking my rule of going to another major league stadium and watching some other team besides the Red Sox play. I would do anything to see Nomar. So to say I was a tad excited last Wednesday about having the chance to meet him is an understatement.

After the game (and yelling myself hoarse cheering for Nomar while snapping pictures of him at bat) Charming and I passed on staying in our seats and watching the fireworks show so we did not miss Nomar coming out of the locker room. And boy were we right in that assumption because no sooner than we got to the back door where the players emerge than out popped Nomar and Andruw Jones (another Dodger rehabbing from an injury) There he was, right in front of me, and only about twelve people around waiting for autographs. Perfect!

Except Nomar made a beeline down the sidewalk and ignored everyone saying "I've got to go, I've got to go" over and over. As he was walking he signed one boy's ball and a girl's shirt but kept moving at a quick pace. Spying the limo parked in the lot behind me I resigned to the fact I was not going to get his autograph and stepped aside to let him pass. Nomar stopped right next to me and I blinked in surprise. He was right there and was going to fulfill my dream! I smiled, holding up my baseballs for him to sign (one for me and one for my Dad of course), thinking this is it, I am going to get the autograph of one of my idols. What a moment!

But Nomar glared at me and shoved me aside to open the car door of the non-descript SUV I had been standing next to and then slammed the door in my face. No "excuse me" or "sorry, I need to get in here" or anything. He then sat in the car and looked straight ahead with his cell to his ear and waited while Andruw Jones signed everyone's items one by one, took pictures and then ten minutes later got into Nomar's car and drove off.

I stood on the curb, crestfallen. The tears fell slowly and my celebrity dream bubble burst right there on the sidewalk. Why he couldn't have signed a few autographs while waiting for Andruw is beyond me. Or even said "Sorry guys, I'm not feeling so great but thanks for coming." Or hell, even an "Excuse me" would have been better than being brushed aside like trash.

And to think I wasted all that time and energy rooting for him and following his career for all those years. Plus missing a spectacular fireworks show that night for nothing but a huge brush off.

So for the record, Nomar Garciaparra is an asshole.

And Trot Nixon is now my most favorite baseball player ever.


VEGAS! Sights: Most Shocking
VEGAS! Sounds: "Bad Girlfriend" - Theory of a Deadman
VEGAS! Soliloquies: Hard Eight by Janet Evanovich