Who Swept the Steroid Era Under the Rug?

Tom WilsoonMay 7, 2008

I start getting the I-can’t-turn-and-look-the-other-way itch again.

I managed to wrangle a brief mention in Sporting News. Asterisk sales spiked, but again, no effect on the national dialogue. No Asterisk Party. Voices remained muted. On I plodded, filling pizza boxes with foam asterisks. Ohio, New York, Illinois, all over the US flew the foam asterisks.

An article in the LA Times boosted Asterisk sales again. And the more asterisks I sold, the more the powers that be turned their heads the other way. Oh, I’m pretty sure they know we’re here. Why, just last week I went to Dodger stadium with a filmmaker.

I carried my bags of foam asterisks up to the outer edges of Dodger Stadium property. I proceeded to hand out the new and improved colored asterisks to those Giant-hating Dodger fans.

I was told I could not sell them without a vendor’s license, and there are only two places in L.A. where they allow street vending. Dodger Stadium was not one of those places. So I decided to give them away for free...I figured it would be good publicity and with our website—www.FansLoveBaseball.com—stamped on the new asterisks, fans could find out where to order for them for next game. Grassroots marketing...that’s where these things begin I’m told.

So I’m standing on public property, passing out free asterisks, meeting new friends. The ticket scalper to my left was friendly and helpful, and the guy selling bootleg hats to my right asked for one of the asterisks.

“Long live Henry Aaron!” he said.

“Yes. Long live the King” I replied.

“The Home Run King!” He shouted.

#44!!

And just at that moment a blue car pulled up. It was one of those real official looking kind of cars. And the uniformed lady on the passenger side was waving one of us over. Crap, I thought, the ticket scalper is gonna get it. Before I could blink they passed him, no...they’re after the guy selling bootleg hats!

And they stop. In front of me. Flash! A badge.

“You have to leave,” I’m told.

“I’m giving these away as a protest. I’m on public property,” I tell them.
Friends, let me tell you, I thought they had gone mute. The lady looked at the driver, the driver looked back at her...and for all appearances, they were stumped. Then without a smile the driver says...“You have to leave.”

“But…”

“Leave, you can’t be here.”

Now, I’ve always been one to respect the authorities, and I figured there was no upside to pushing any further, and it sounded like they meant business, so I packed up my asterisks and headed home...the two of us...my filmmaker friend friend and me, and he caught the whole thing on camera.

My friend says that the footage should go into a documentary called Kiss My Asterisk. He has a real sense of humor, and truth be told, I think he’s a Giants fan.