My first year or so out of college, Pete Rose was doing a meet and greet at a local casino and we managed to arrange a one-on-one interview.
It didn't go too well.
I only had 5 or 10 minutes with him, so I tried to do more of a news angle. Hall of Fame weekend was the following week, so I asked him what it was like seeing guys he played with like Schmidt and Nolan Ryan go into the hall while he's left out. Later, I asked him something about the gambling allegations.
He didn't snap or anything, but his answers were a little testy. I don't think he liked some young punk from Podunk throwing things like that at him. And, to be fair, my questions were probably as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face.
After the interview, I followed him and the casino PR guy upstairs for the meet and greet. It was around a blackjack table, and all of Pete's small talk with the PR guy -- for the entire hour -- was centered around gambling. Not on sports, but just playing blackjack, poker, whatever. It was kind of creepy. If I had had more experience, it's pretty obvious what my lede should've been. Instead, the story was pretty shirtty.
At some point, I asked my editor if it was OK to get an autograph and he said sure. My dad was a huge Phillies fan and I thought it'd make a great birthday gift. The card I brought with me was a pretty worthless card from one of those Toys R Us Fleer sets from the late 80s, but Pete kept saying how the autograph was going to decrease its value. He did sign it. But I'm not sure I earned a place on his Christmas card list.