AN autograph is nothing, it is often a hurried, illegible scribble that is slashed across a tournament brochure, it is splotchy initials scrawled on a hat. Years later, you pull out a ragged shirt, find a fraying autograph book in a cardboard box, and you can't even read the athlete's name. Damn, who was that?
Yet the autograph is everything to the fan (which is why you still have the shirt), it is the moment the athlete stops for you, connects with you, recognises you (as a fan). In this unequal relationship, it is a rare moment when the athlete gives back.
Whenever I think of autographs, I think of Cal Ripken Jr.
I've never met him, never watched him play baseball, but will never forget him.
As a young sportswriter, I remember reading about this player who would emerge from the clubhouse, even after a tough game, and sign for 10 minutes, 20, 40, an hour, two hours, lines of people waiting because they loved him and knew he wouldn't disappoint them, people who would talk to him and he'd talk back, not just look down and sign but engage them.
It's what I wish athletes would do more of, just reach out to a kid, wait a while and sign, even say hello. Not scribble on the move, do the old sign and split, with kids tripping and falling as they try and keep up.
Of course, it's not a one-way process. Fans have to be careful not to be rude and pushy, shouldn't thrust a paper in an athlete's face when he's having lunch and demand "address it to Tony", shouldn't just walk away without even a "thank you".
Everyone should sign for fans, not just winning athletes, but even losing ones. They tend to brush past spectators, and this seems somewhat understandable for emotions are raw and disappointment is heavy. Some days they're just not in the mood and that's fine, but some days they need to emerge from the locker room after a shower and sign.
Fact is, defeat hurts fans, too, but still they come, they pay, they watch, they support, and it is a loyalty worth 10 minutes of signing. Rafael Nadal did this at the US Open last year, he lost to Andy Murray, but still went and signed. Good for him.
In a time of recession, it is even more important that athletes engage with fans, even thank them. Hot days or snowy ones, fans show up. Hard days and bad days, fans show up. Sport is their distraction, their escape, their pleasure. If they didn't come, clubs would fold, tournaments would die, sponsors would bid farewell, and athletes need to recognise that.
Athletes need to step out of their cocoons, shake hands, have clinics, stop for a chat, go to schools, even occasionally banter with spectators (sure, you need your concentration in golf, but it's not quite brain surgery).
Smaller sports do this anyway, for they need support, and the ladies of the LPGA Tour (who are showing up in Singapore next week for the HSBC Champions) are among the easiest athletes I have dealt with.
Now footballers must do this, tennis players, formula one drivers, rugby stars. They cannot take it for granted that fans will come, they must sell their sports to us. If they stand and sign, 10 minutes, 20, 40, we'd think, this man is worthy of coming to see, worth investing our time and shrinking pay packet in.
And in hard times, something good may happen, the absurd distance between the athlete and fan may begin to close. And Ripken certainly would approve.