Recently The Philadelphia Inquirer has run several articles about retired sportswriter Ray Didinger's stage play, Tommy and Me, centered on Philadelphia Eagles player Tommy McDonald, a wide receiver on the 1960 team that won the NFL championship.
As a ten-year-old fan at the team's training camp, Didinger used to carry McDonald's helmet for him after practice. Many years later, the writer was instrumental in finally getting the player into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.
I had my own history with Tommy McDonald, a brief but memorable brush with the man.
Grant City, about a half-mile from my South Jersey home (billed when construction was announced as "the largest W. T. Grant store in the world!") was anchored by the sprawling "Grants" mass-merchandise store. It was a busy place where I often would go to hang out, check out the books and records for sale, maybe get a soft pretzel, or, if I had the forty cents, a hot-fudge sundae at the lunch counter The Skillet. One day in 1962, twelve-year-old me went there as usual, and was encouraged by some adults to walk up to where Tommy McDonald was sitting at a table for a signing of his soft-cover book, They Pay Me to Catch Footballs. An Eagles fan, I knew who he was. Tommy gave me a big hello, signed his book and, with a broad smile, handed it to me, no charge. I was the only customer I saw who was part of the proceedings, so the extremely light attendance might have been embarrassing for him. But the sunny demeanor and enthusiasm with which he gifted me the book were appreciated. Thanks, Tommy.
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