Feel Good Sports Stories

[Cobra Mgr]

Originally Posted by Déjà Bru

.........I'm glad to see that wasn't the case. Really, I blame no one for having a bad relationship with sports media people, some of whom are only one step above paparazzi. I couldn't take some of the nonsense, myself............

I had never heard about this before. Maybe if I was a BoSox fan, I would have. It deserves retelling. Thanks for sharing it.

I guess I could have been clearer. I'll take my "L" on that one.........

.......Jim just didn't like talking to the press. Plus, being the only AA on Boston. Add he had the "nerve" to take over the RedSox premiere position in LF. But you look at interviews and not one teammate, coach, opponent or dugout employee had anything cross to say about him. The only bad things said about him comes from the media. And they can't say he was nasty to them. Just that he refused interviews.

The media has an overblown sense of importance. They harp on the fact the Constitution guarantees freedom of the press. That means they are allowed to report and investigate. It does not mean they have the right to demand anyone's time or have their questions answered.

Even though he was a childhood hero, I always thought he was 50-50 for the HOF. You can't tell me during his playing days that his spot in the batting order didn't get more focus than 99% of the AL when he played. Even Goose Gossage said Rice was the closest he ever got to fearing a batter. But the numbers didn't scream Cooperstown. I couldn't be sure my sentimental feelings didn't color my judgement. But if I had known about his heroics it should have put him over the top. So many excuses for gamblers & PED users and no one wants to let that August day melt away their hardline? Screw 'em.


I think the whole "not enough walks" issue they bring up was silly & grasping to give his omission some credence instead of the reporters admitting they were a bunch of petty JrHS girls. The way the game was played then, Rice was there to drive in runs. Not get someone further into scoring position. It's like saying Jordan isn't as good as James cause LeBron has more 3's.

[Cobra Mgr]

Since I started this thread years ago, I'm going to exercise my "executive privilege" & say this is a sports story. Any excuse to get a smile.

[Déjà Bru]

Originally Posted by Cobra Mgr

Since I started this thread years ago, I'm going to exercise my "executive privilege" & say this is a sports story. Any excuse to get a smile.

Since when is bike riding not a sport? Regardless, perfectly acceptable in my book, Mr. Executive. I imagine she follows audio cues from the adults with her. Look at the joy on her face.

[Cobra Mgr]

Originally Posted by Déjà Bru

Look at the joy on her face.

That's what got me all in the feels.

[Déjà Bru]

This is a multi-part episode, three nice stories in one, so stick with it. Also, get past how the 14-year-old kid started the fire by accident. Kids doing dumb things is part of their growing up. It's a wonder how so many of them survive.

From The Athletic

In a fire, their cherished Mike Trout autograph was lost. Then Trout got involved.

By Sam Blum

PETAL, Miss. — As a young kid playing Little League baseball, Aaron Campbell’s teammates jokingly nicknamed him “Mike Trout.” He played center field, wore Trout’s signature Nike cleats, and was singularly obsessed with the Angels’ all-time slugger.

Aaron and his father, Michael Campbell, bonded over traveling to baseball games and getting autographs from their favorite players. They had signatures from Trea Turner, Manny Machado, and Austin Riley among a collection of 76 baseballs displayed on a shelf in their southern Mississippi home.

Two years ago, over the Fourth of July weekend, the pair traveled West hoping to land a signed baseball from Trout. They went to Angel Stadium, but to no avail. Trout got within 10 yards of them, signed a few items, but the then-12-year-old Aaron left empty-handed.

“He just said, ‘Dad, I thought it was gonna happen.’” Michael recalled, thinking back on how he tried to console his son.

They drove to San Diego the following day, where the Angels were starting a new series. A pregame stadium tour took them on the field, all for one more shot at Trout. Aaron, normally shy, broke character.

“Mike Trout,” he yelled repeatedly. His father’s eyes widened. “I’m like, ‘Dang buddy, you’re shooting your shot.’”

Trout looked over and put up a finger, indicating an unspoken agreement between player and fan. He’d come and sign as soon as he could.

They waited, and waited, until the tour guide — who’d already allowed the pair to stay an extra 10 minutes — was forcing them to leave. Trout was still in the batting cage when Aaron threw a Hail Mary. “Mike Trout, they’re making us leave,” he yelled as they walked to the exit, hoping for a miracle.

Trout turned around, put down his bat, and ran over to Aaron.

“I was on cloud nine,” the kid said. “I was so happy.”

“I told him, ‘I am forever grateful,’” Michael recalled. “You’re my hero, because you didn’t have to do that. And you have created an even bigger hero in his eyes.”

Today, that signed baseball no longer exists. The Campbells’ home was reduced almost entirely to rubble in a fire on May 11.

In a picturesque suburban neighborhood, the ashen structure sticks out like a sore thumb. Windows broken, debris strewn all over the yard, orange police tape operating as a light barricade.

The doors are gone, leaving a clear view inside of what was once a home meant to raise their family. The fire started after Aaron returned home on that Mother’s Day afternoon from driving his family’s golf cart with his buddies. He parked it, got a drink, sat on the couch, and then realized a few minutes later that the cart had overheated — engulfing the entire garage in flames.

His parents returned home from a Wal-Mart trip to see the entire neighborhood out on the street, firetrucks next to the house, all helplessly watching their home disintegrate. Aaron and the family dog were taken in by another family across the street.

“We sat in that yard right there and watched it burn,” Michael said, pointing to a patch of grass with a direct line of sight to their home. “It’s so helpless. You want to go do something, you want to try and grab stuff. But it ain’t worth any of that.”

That included the signed baseballs; an autograph is just ink on rubber, a fact Michael reminded himself of as he tried to process the loss of their collection.

But an autograph can also mean so much more. For Michael, it represented a bond with his son. And for Trout, that autograph, and the many thousands he gives fans every year, reflect his understanding of their importance.

Which is why, after the fire, Michael Campbell emailed me, out of the blue and with no prior connection, to see if there would be a way to use my status as a reporter covering the Angels to get Trout a message.

It popped into my email inbox at The Athletic during the early hours of May 18, and bearing the subject line, “Wanted to see if you could help…”

Michael explained that he wanted to deliver for his kid. “I’m just a dad trying to do something for my son.”

My first instinct was skepticism. If you’re around Major League Baseball full-time, in any capacity, you understand the lengths crazy collectors will go to for autographs or any other type of valuable memorabilia.

Thankfully, Campbell left his cell phone number, address and his occupation — an offensive coordinator at Petal High School. Verifying his identity was as simple as looking up his number, making sure that it matched with his name, then checking the school’s website to see if he was really their coach.

It all lined up, and so I forwarded along the request to the Angels. Twelve days after that, a UPS package arrived in Mississippi with a signed Trout jersey. Aaron opened it excitedly, first reading a handwritten letter written by an Angels official, before holding up the jersey and audibly thanking his favorite player.

“I’m up here, and I can make an impact,” Trout said when asked about sending the jersey. “That’s important to me.

“I haven’t been through any of that, and it’s sad when stuff like that happens. And any chance I get to brighten a person’s day, a family’s day, I take the opportunity.”

There wasn’t much in the Campbell’s rental house to make it feel like a home. This is where they plan to live for at least the next year, as they evaluate whether to move homes or rebuild the one that burned.

The white walls were mostly empty, devoid of family photos. There was some standard furniture, making it feel like a less personal AirBnb.

Then, there was the space above Aaron’s bed. In a house devoid of personality, it was the one oasis of something human and meaningful: A shelf full of Atlanta Braves bobbleheads and a few signed baseballs, enough to make his space feel like a teenage boy’s bedroom.

After Michael posted about his family’s circumstances online, a like-minded community of autograph seekers rallied around them, shipping gifts from their own cherished collections.

“This is our hobby,” Campbell said. “This is what him and I do together.” When we’re sitting there watching it burn — we’ve still got the memories, but we’ve lost all of it.”

Thanks to those fans, and to Trout, they are starting to rebuild, ball by ball.

So much is made of Trout’s injuries, because he’s missed nearly 400 games over the last four-plus seasons. When he has played, he’s been criticized at times for an elevated strikeout rate.

And even when he plays well, he bears the brunt of the Angels’ decade-long stretch of losing. Will he request a trade? Why can’t they win with him?

His greatness as a player has given him a lot of burdens, but also something he realizes is a gift. The ability to make someone truly happy, simply with his presence, or the five seconds it takes to sign his name.

People come to Trout all the time with requests. Be it Angels officials, teammates, coaches or even opposing players.

In that way, signing a jersey for Aaron wasn’t special. The same day it arrived in the mail, Trout met with a lifelong fan who was battling terminal brain cancer. The fan’s daughter had emailed the Angels’ community relations team, and Trout readily agreed to meet.

For Trout, that is every day. But for Aaron, his moment was special. And that’s kind of the point. This small effort for Trout meant everything to a kid who had lost everything else.

“I always try to make a kid’s day, or make a family’s day,” Trout said. “Even if it’s something little, or something just as easy as signing a jersey.”

So, Mike Trout +1 and +1. The "like-minded community of autograph seekers" +1.

[Cobra Mgr]

Nice story. Hopefully word spreads & some of the previous signers send some autographed merch their way.

[Cobra Mgr]

Nice to see CoCo doing her best to forgive, hold no grudges & make sure everyone knows see has moved past the past.

[Cobra Mgr]

John Cena signs a photo

[Cobra Mgr]

HS coach informs his team of his new job.