They stood outside in the midwinter Milwaukee drizzle, waiting to catch a glimpse of the Utah Jazz. As players came out of the hotel, the throng of autograph-seekers descended, waving pens and calling names. One young man in his late teens positioned himself squarely between All-Star guard John Stockton and the door of the team bus. "John, sign this," he said. Stockton quickly signed.
"John," he continued, "give me a jersey. Do you have a jersey I can have?" Stockton kept walking."John," he persisted, blocking the way, "can I have a pair of shoes? C'mon, man, gimmee a pair of shoes." Stockton slipped around the fan and climbed on the bus with a grimace.
As the bus pulled away, a man in a Cadillac drove up, got out of the car and collected cards from several kids who waited outside in the rain all day. The man, obviously a professional card dealer, was paying them to collect autographs, which he could in turn sell on the booming card market.
"It just goes to show how it has taken the fun out of it," said Jazz All-Star forward Karl Malone. "It's definitely unfortunate."
The days of finding a scrap of paper to get your hero's autograph are nearly gone, replaced by the cutthroat sport memorabilia business. A rookie-year Michael Jordan card that originally cost as little as 50 cents in a pack is now going for $700. Cards signed by old-time athletes, or those whose autographs are difficult to acquire, can increase the value even more.
"Way back when," the Mailman continued, "it would make you feel great and make a kid feel great to sign an autograph on a scrap of paper. Now you've got to have a certain paper and a certain pen in a certain notebook. It's taken all the fun out of it."
Young children wanting a single autograph have been pushed aside by professional autograph-seekers, who collect as many signatures as they can, then trade or sell them. "It's totally out of control," said Chicago's Michael Jordan. "Everyone knows it's a business. A big business."
Each year the crowds get larger. In San Antonio and Portland, fans wait at the hotels until the wee hours, hoping to catch players as they come in on late charter flights. In Philadelphia they line the walkway to the hotel's front door, armed with basketballs, shoes, tee shirts, notepads and, of course, trading cards. Numerous hotels post signs banning autograph-seekers from loitering in the lobbies.
"You see some of them and it's not one thing they want signed, it's four things. Basketballs, shirts, pictures, cards, all that stuff - and at 3 o'clock in the morning. Sometimes you want them to give you a break. Maybe you're tired and you just played a game, or you lost and you're just not in the mood. But some people are still there waiting," said Jordan.
"I think what has changed a lot is that people are selling the cards," said Cleveland's All-Star guard Mark Price. "Most players like to autograph things for someone who wants an autograph for themselves. But a guy who sticks a notebook in front of you with 10 of the same card, you know they don't want your card because they like you. A lot of guys resent that."
Autograph collecting isn't a haphazard game of chance, now that money is involved. Fans find when and where the players' flights arrive. They stake out the hotels. They await at the morning shoot-arounds and when the teams arrive for games.
"The game is at an all-time high. You go around the league now and people have their books all laid out. It's so organized, like it's some type of business," said Jazz guard Jeff Malone.
During one Jazz trip in December, a man wearing a cast on one arm was at the team hotel in Charlotte, collecting autographs from players. Two nights later, the same man appeared in a Philadelphia hotel, seeking autographs from the same players.
Jazz coach Jerry Sloan insists a woman in Philadelphia has been asking for autographs every year has been in that city since he was a player in the 60s. She says she is collecting for a children's hospital, but Sloan shakes his head in disbelief.
"You see the same people consistently," continued Jordan. "And so then it's not fun. It's work. I don't mind signing for people, but when it's the same people then it becomes work. And it isn't a pleasure when it's work."
Karl Malone says fans will come into his sports apparel store in Salt Lake City and "buy 15 jerseys, then want me to sign them all so they can sell them at their card shops." The Mailman says he now signs most autographs with the person's name included, so the fan can't turn around and sell the item.
Many collectors have taken on distinctly militant attitude. Fortified with the latest information on player contracts, fans often feel it is the players' obligation to sign autographs. They awaken players on airplanes or knock on their doors at home. Stockton once had a old friend's father drive a school bus up to his house and unload the passengers.
"He was the first one at the door with a pen and paper," Stockton said.
Portland's Clyde Drexler says signing autographs remains a player's prerogative. "It's the same as always. If that person feels like signing, he will, and if he doesn't, he won't. Me personally, it's an honor to sign. But if we have a bus to catch or a team meeting, I don't sign. We get fined by the minute if we're late. Or if you're with your family at a restaurant, it's probably not the best time to sign."
Said the Jazz's Jeff Malone, "Sometimes when you get on the bus and you don't sign, people say things. I don't pay attention. You can't sign for everyone. If they're nice, I'll do it. But if they stop me while I walk, or push me, I'll just keep right on going."
"I don't think we owe anybody anything," said Cleveland's Price. "They might pay for a ticket, and we like the fans, but on the other hand, the players don't get paid by the fans. Most guys like some respect. But I see less of it all the time. Maybe I'm old fashioned."
Occasionally, fans will go to extremes for an autograph. San Antonio's David Robinson was driving a new Porsche away from a game one night when "a whole bunch of kids started coming up for autographs and pushing against the car."
When he arrived home, Robinson discovered a long scratch someone had put down the side of the car while struggling to get closer. "My wife was not happy," said Robinson.
Jeff Malone was eating dinner in a restaurant when a fan removed his shoe and put it on the table. "Sign this," the man said.
At Denver's Stapleton Airport, the Mailman was standing at a bathroom urinal when, he said, "a fan put a piece of paper in my face."
"I can't tell you what I told him," the Mailman said.
Drexler said he considers signing autographs "an honor," but has had fans "sit down at the table while I'm eating dinner and just start talking like they know me.
"They have great intentions, but they're a little inconsiderate," said Drexler. "Time with your family is valuable."
The crush of autograph seekers is the result of several things. Interest in the game is higher than ever, card collecting has become lucrative and players are harder to reach, due to improved security at arenas and the advent of team charter flying. Also, media exposure has made the players bigger than life.
Sloan says when he broke into the NBA in 1967, he was surprised anyone would want his autograph. "I really didn't know that kind of thing existed," he said. "I really didn't expect it, except in New York, maybe. I was shocked that people would even know who I was."
He continued, "Back then, kids got the autographs. But now adults will run over the kids just to make sure they get them."
Added the Mailman, "People have taken all the fun out of giving autographs for kids. They used to tear out a popcorn box or part of a grocery sack. Now they come in with their briefcases and you have to sign a certain piece of paper or a card with a certain pen."
The rush to get autographs can go from irritating to frightening. Jordan was nearly overcome at an autograph show in Houston when some 5,000 fans stormed past the handful of security guards. Tables were broken in the melee.
In Dallas, Jordan once walked 150 yards from the Hyatt Regency to Reunion Arena and ended up signing 200 autographs in the process. In Denver, a woman laid under the team bus, refusing to move until Jordan got off to sign an autograph. Teammates eventually had to coax the woman out from under the vehicle. And in Chicago, another woman laid down in front of Jordan's car, saying she wouldn't move until she got an autograph.
"I signed it, but I told her I was really tempted to run over her for doing something crazy," said Jordan.
"Jeff, John, Karl - people will do anything to get their autographs," said Sloan, during a December trip to Philadelphia. "Did you see the people when we got on the team bus tonight? Guys are sticking pens and papers up, they jam them in their faces. I worry that someone will get hit in the eye. It concerns me a little - people who will go to any extreme to get an autograph. You have to wonder what they'll do to get in your room."
They'll apparently do a lot. Jordan was in Denver in late January when he heard someone beating on his hotel room door. "I was in the shower getting ready for the game," said Jordan, "and I heard this yelling and cursing. Someone was shouting, `I need your autograph!' I heard someone shouting, `Let me up!' and `Stop, you're hurting me!' I peeked out the door and there were two or three security people who had caught the guy and pinned him down."
Despite changing rules in the autograph game, most players say they still don't mind signing for children who are looking for heroes. They just don't want entrepreneurs. "Nobody minds signing for a kid or a piece of paper because he likes you," said Price.
"It's still neat to see kids collect cards just for fun," Robinson added.
Said the Mailman, "My main thing is I still love the little, innocent young kid that comes up and asks for an autograph. I'm not interested in those collectors who come up with a certain card, have a certain pen and a briefcase. I love the little kid who comes up and says, `Mr. Malone, can I have your autograph?' "
Added Drexler, "I don't mind signing for kids, but guys with the briefcases? Take a hike."