Walter Payton talked to me!

I apologize for all those who have been waiting for me to write something. I just can’t think of anything to write. Actually, that isn’t exactly true. I think of all sorts of things but I’m never in a position to write those thoughts down. Then since I didn’t write anything down I forget all those wonderful thoughts once I’m in front of a computer. I knew that I was going to be in front of a computer for the next 6 hours so I thought I might try to remember something to write down. I thought I would share one of my claims to fame.

I grew up watching football with my Dad and because I grew up in the 80’s I loved the Chicago Bears and more importantly I idolized Walter Payton. I didn’t idolize him in the sense of building wooden or stone figures of him and worshiping them. Although, I did set aside every Sunday afternoon to see how he performed that week and anytime there was a bye weekend for the Bears I was saddened. So, I guess I did worship him. I set aside a particular day, his stats were my bible, and I had numerous football cards of him that I stored very carefully and only took out on special occasions kinda like an idol. That all sounds pretty religious to me. So I stand corrected (self-corrected) I did idolize Walter Payton in the way I didn’t originally think I idolized him.

Anyway, I was more than upset in 1986 when William ‘Refrigerator’ Perry ran a 2-4 yard run for a touchdown during the Superbowl when Walter Payton never scored a touchdown in the game. I mean the Bears beat the Patriots 55 to 10 you would think the best running back of all time could be given the opportunity to score a touchdown in the one game where every player wants to be. Walter Payton retired in 1987 and in an emotional knee jerk reaction I found a new team to pull for. I followed/worshiped Walter Payton not the Bears. Although, to this day I still see how they are doing kinda like a step-team. Which I guess makes me a step-fan. Now on special football holidays I will have to split my time between my two teams. It’s all so complicated now. I advise not getting involved with other teams. Just pick one and keep that one till you die. It makes life much easier to deal with.

I’m getting on a tangent here. Around 1995 I found out that Walter Payton was going to be in Wichita at a Lawn and Garden show. I don’t know how I found this out because at the time I couldn’t care less about lawns or gardens. But being the worshiper of Walter Payton I saw my opportunity to see this great man and I took advantage of the situation. I went into my closet and retrieved those coveted football cards. I had these cards vacuumed sealed (with the same vacuum sealer that my Dad and I used to dispatch some unwanted puppies. That isn’t a funny story so I won’t share that one, but just a part of my strange upbringing) so I had to open the bag that had the rookie card and second year card. I don’t think I can fully explain the emotions that were envolved with this action . . . so I’ll try. I spent a great deal of money on these cards and looking for them was a passion of mine as a boy. Actually, it was more of an all consuming drive. It wasn’t quite like the Star Trek fan freakiness but as close as you could come without actually painting myself black and getting a tight curled fade. I was around 20 years old when this was happening and Walter Payton retired from football in 1987, so for 8 to 10 years these cards remained in the package behind the doors of my closet and hidden behind a bunch of other stuff. Mr. Payton was only going to sign 1 autograph per person and I had two cards that I wanted signed so I got my brother to help me.

I’m not sure what Walter Payton was doing at a Lawn and Garden show but regardless of his reasons my brother, his wife, and I got there early enough to beat most of Wichita. We later found out that Mr. Payton was only going to sign a few autographs and then they would turn everyone else away. The enthusiasm was pretty high for myself and my sister-in-law who happened to be the self-proclaimed “Biggest Bears Fan Ever”. My brother could not have cared any less. (He wasn’t into football therefore not into the Bears therefore not into Walter Payton. He liked burning things and shooting rabbits with his blowgun). We stood in line for what seemed like an eternity. There were all sorts of people but mostly older people and guys explaining to their children why it was so important to spend hours in a line that led to a man that wasn’t Santa.

The guy in front of me had a Bears football helmet that had a few signatures from other Bears like Gale Sayers. My brother’s wife was in front of my brother (she was holding her own 8X10 glossy photo) and my brother was in front of me (he was holding my Walter Payton second year card) and I was next holding the Rookie card. It was great, I was beaming, my sister-in-law was beside herself and my brother was just beside the both of us. It was a lot like the movie “A Christmas Story” and my sister-in-law and I were like Ralph’s little brother (“Oh, wow a Zeppelin!”) and my brother was like Ralph while wearing the ‘Deranged Easter Bunny’ outfit. It was quite the sight.

The anticipation of actually communicating with what I now realize was my deity was nerve racking. I was also nervous about my brother mishandling my football card. I’m pretty anal about most things and during my football card days was learned the fine art of being anal. But to my brother’s credit he knew of my paranoia and did everything flawlessly. I was very grateful. However, as I extended my card to Walter Payton, with my ear to ear grin, I got a punch in the gut. Not a literal one though. I handed the card to him and said something I can’t remember, it is all a blur now, but I do remember Walter Payton’s response. How could I forget, the man I worshiped for so many years was talking to me? He said, “Didn’t you already come through here?” Did I already come through here? What do you mean? I would have to beat all of Wichita twice and still get in line before the cut off. None of this actually went through my mind though. I just thought this is crazy Walter Payton is talking to me.

So, I did what I do in most uncomfortable situations I think of something funny to say. My humor didn’t fail me either as I said, “No, I haven’t been here before. But you know us white guys we all look alike.” He laughed heartily and looked up to his body guard and said, “I didn’t say that, I didn’t say that” while laughing. If I remember right his body guard was laughing too. And in some of my more warped recollections I remember everyone in line and at the entire Lawn and Garden show laughing and explaining and reexplaining to those around them the great joke I told to a living legend, but I only remember that when I’m becoming conceited.

This was just fantastic here I am standing in the presence of my boyhood hero and I told a joke that he actually laughed at, and he wasn’t laughing to just be nice. I actually caught his funny bone unexpectedly. He signed the card, shook my hand and was just really happy. I like to think that I made his day. Oh sure he was really honored to be signing the same helmet that Gale Sayers signed but after hundreds of signatures I’m sure a good laugh was like a breath of fresh air or a cup of cold water on a hot day. I think I floated away from his table and into my brother’s car. It all didn’t sink in till later on that I made Walter Payton laugh at one of my jokes. I wasn’t just another faceless fan in an endless line of people I was the white guy that made a funny racist joke.

I have put those cards back into their vacuum sealed bags but due to childhood trauma I haven’t been able to bring myself to use the vacuum sealer again, and it’s broken. So, the cards remain open to the air and all the damaging chemicals in that element.