Another Reason I'm Weird: Ted Lilly

I've met a fair amount of celebrities in my life. I worked my way through college waiting tables, and occasionally we would get someone of note coming in to eat. I've met athletes, musicians, dignitaries, actors, and thoroughly embarrassed myself around at least 80% of them. I don't think any such encounter was more awkward though than when I met Ted Lilly.

I was living in Davis. I went out to have breakfast with a good friend of mine named Jordan; I think it was on a weekday in October or November. As we walked to our table at the Davis IHOP, I passed by a man and got that jolt inside my head. You know that feeling when you recognize something, but you can't put your finger on where its from? This hit me hard. As we sat down, I asked my friend a question and didn't listen to the response unfortunately (I apologize, by the way, Jordan.) As he talked, I began rummaging through my mental archives to try and figure out from where I knew that face, but I couldn't figure it out. To my great benefit, Jordan suddenly had to take a call, so I was free to ponder without interruption.

There isn't a good way to creepily keep sneaking looks at the guy two tables down in an empty IHOP, but I did it anyway. My nature often compels me to figure such things out before I can go on, so I was determined to figure it out. I went through my mental processes. I figured it had to be someone whose face I saw on a daily basis that I could recognize him out of context at a moment's glance. Was he a friend of the family? No, that wasn't it. Was he a musician? No, I don't look at album covers enough. Was he an actor? No. He was a baseball player! He was Ted Lilly!

I imagine most of you don't know who Ted Lilly is, so let me give you some background. Lilly was a late round draft pick by the Dodgers in 1996, who started with the Expos in 1999, and played for the Expos, Yankees, Blue Jays, Cubs, and most importantly, the A's. Lilly was a member of the starting rotation when the A's made the playoffs in 2002 and 2003, and I was a big fan. Lilly is somewhat the epitome of "Solid but unspectacular." He'll probably never win the Cy Young, but he's a good #2 starter, or a great #3 starter. Every winning team needs a Ted Lilly to be a rock of consistency when the team scuffles. Combine my love of the A's with a recent pension for picking him up in my Fantasy Baseball leagues, and I knew it was him. I quickly looked him up on what primitive version of the internet my Motorola RAZR phone had, and confirmed my suspicions.

Just then, Jordan came back in, and I told him what I had figured out. Jordan, not being much of a baseball fan, thought it was neat, but didn't really care. I, on the other hand, was somewhat freaking out. As you can see from the picture, Ted Lilly is a normal looking guy. He's also a normal acting guy, as I'm not sure how many pro athletes would eat at the IHOP in the offseason. As I pondered these things, he got up to leave with his friends. I jolted myself to an alert status as I had to figure out what to do. Would I introduce myself? Would I simply allow him to go about his day? No, I had to talk to him. I had to absolutely confirm my suspicions. So with a mix of resolve and nerves, I sauntered up to him in the otherwise empty IHOP, and asked him:

Me: Excuse me?

He turned around slowly, with a plain face. "Yes?"

Me: Hi. Umm. This might sound strange, but...are you Ted Lilly?

Him: "Yeah, how's it going."

It wasn't so much of a question as it was a statement. How's it going. He didn't think it was special, even if I did. Unfortunately, I hadn't really thought my cunning plan through past the first step. To use the South Park model, my plan went something like: 1) Inquire about Ted Lilly's Reality. 2) ??? 3) Profit. It wasn't foolproof, but regardless, I had to improvise step 2. There are a number of acceptable follow ups here. "I'm a big fan!" "I followed you when you were on the A's!" "You pitched great this year for the Cubs!" Any of these things are fine. To expect anything of such normality from me, though, is folly. I went with something unique:

"You're on my fantasy baseball team!"

Think about that. The reason I admired him was because his digital presence inflated the numbers of my virtual fake baseball game. To speak nothing of his actual baseball ability, which was good, I instead pointed out how his digital presence was to my profit. It wasn't until a few minutes later, after he quickly excused himself, that I realized how weird that was. You, Ted Lilly, are a great asset. May I shake your hand? Oh, you don't want to join me at my table and enjoy Belgian Waffles? I don't understand, but wish you well anyway.

I don't think a lot of people would recognize Ted Lilly at the Davis IHOP, but leave it to the one guy who does to totally make it a laughable experience. Oh well, at least I got a story out of it.