kbso83432
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I respect this guy so much. I might have told this story before. I was a 12-year-old kid standing behind the ropes at Dickinson College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Camp practice had ended. It's hot as hell out, and Joe has signed at least 30 autographs. He said that's it and headed toward the locker room. Some random adult said what about this kid and pointed at me. I had my little press book in my hand.
Halfway to the locker room, he says, "Oh" doubles back and gives me the last autograph of the day. To this day, I still can't figure out how he was friends with Dan.
Camp practice had ended. It's hot as hell out, and Joe has signed at least 30 autographs. He said that's it and headed toward the locker room. Some random adult said what about this kid and pointed at me. I had my little press book in my hand.
Halfway to the locker room, he says, "Oh" doubles back and gives me the last autograph of the day. To this day, I still can't figure out how he was friends with Dan.
