"Please excuse, John" -Reggie Jackson, #44

Exhibit A

June 18, 1977. Yankees - Red Sox, Fenway Park. Starting time, 2:38pm.

In the sixth inning, Reggie Jackson, is taken out of the game. He walks in right field, steps down into the dugout and takes on Billy Martin, the Yankee manager who just pulled him out of the game. They're in each others  face. Chests bump. Hands pump in the air and on national television. Neither is backing down and they have to be pulled apart.  Elston Howard plays ump. Scratch that. He's more like a ref and pulls the apart. If I knew more about the technology I'd put a widget right here so you could look at the tape.
Reggie, Reggie, Reggie.

April 17, 1978. Reggie - Barnes & Noble, 5th Ave & 49th ST, NYC. Game time, noon.

“Hey, Frank…”

“Yeah.”

“Reggie Jackson is signing books at Barnes & Noble today at noon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go.”
"Let's go."

Memo to the staff:  I would like the entire agency in the Conference Room at 11:45 A.M.  –Bob Schmidt.  Bob is one of the owners of the ad agency I worked at. He's kind of like Reggie. He even wears a lot of pinstripes.

 You don’t want to crowd Mr. October at the plate or in a bookstore.

We're standing in line.  After about an hour we're at the head of the line.
Batter up.
John: Hi Reggie. 
(I'm not sure if he said hello or if even looked up)
Reg, I risked my job to be here. (I show him the memo) Can you write me a note and get me out of class like they do in school?

Barnes & Noble security: Mr. Jackson is only signing books, books bought here today. 

Reggie looks at the security person like he threw at his head.  Nobody tells Reggie Jackson what he can, or cannot do.

Security: Give him a book to sign or move along.

Strike Two

Reggie glares at the pitcher of that sentence. He digs in. (My take has always been Reggie has a healthy problem with authority.)

Reggie:  Give me that thing.

The security guard takes the piece of paper out of my hand and hands it to Reggie.  He’s dazed – security, not Jackson.

It’s not that Reggie is The Bambino and I'm Jimmy, the kid in the hospital with two days to live. It's just that no one tells #44 what to do.

So, because he was told not to, 'The Straw that Stirs the Drink', as he once stirred up trouble by calling himself, asks me, "What do you want me to write?" As if he's asking me if he should take the next pitch or swing away.
Go for it, Reg. You're the guy who got us here. I give him the sign.

He writes, "Please excuse, John"  -Reggie Jackson #44
As in 44, the gun. As in the 44 Caliber killer.  
(see Exhibit A)
Like Jackson does, I watch the ball head for the stands. I trot around the bases and tip my hat...all in my head. But that's ok. I'll take it.  It's a home run anyway you look at it.

The security guard told Reggie he couldn't sign anything but Barnes & Noble books.  That's what opposing pitchers did, they dared him to hit the ball. We know how that worked out.  Now, the security guard now knew how that worked out, too. 
The opposing team's manager came over, took the guard out of the game. He headed for the showers.

Safe at home. Frank and I were excused from the meeting, since going to see Jackson was a quirky thing to do, since Reggie was a Yankee, since the Yankees are a dynasty and are New York, and since we asked Reggie if he'd give us an autograph for Bob, the fellow who wrote the memo about the meeting in the first place. 
We got that autograph. And Frank and I got a story to tell. About the time Mr. October hit three home runs on three consecutive pitches in one World Series game at the Barnes & Noble Bookstore. In April, no less.