Remembering John Steadman

We’ve now morphed into a digital, visual world where too many people in my business make the story about themselves. It’s rather sad, in my humble opinion.

But I remember someone who was much different. A longtime Baltimore sports writing legend, the late John Steadman was loved and respected by just about everyone, especially this person.

I accidentally met him about 40 years ago during my first year as a Pikesville High student. Things were not going well, and I needed something good to go my way.

I saw him sitting alone in the stands at an Orioles game one night late in the 1977 season. In the third inning, I wandered over to ask for his autograph. He saw my nerves and invited me to sit down. So I did and stayed for the rest of the game.

At one point, he asked if I followed the Colts (they were in Baltimore back then, for our younger readers). I told him I sure did. He asked if I ever went to the games. I said our family had season tickets but we didn’t keep them after my dad died a few years before.

He wondered if I had been to any games since then. I told him I went to one but that’s all. He said that Sunday’s game against Buffalo would be good since it would be for first place in the AFC East. Then, Steadman asked if I’d be watching/listening to it. I said I always did. He asked if I wanted to go at all.

Now, I didn’t grasp why he kept asking me all these questions. But he then pulled out two tickets to the game and asked if I wanted them. They were on the 50-yard line.

I went to the game and loved it. Fast-forward 20 years to when the Ravens came to town. I told one of their front office people about this – I did post-game quotes for them, still do, as a matter of fact – and he asked me to write a story on it for their program to be given out on the final day at Memorial Stadium in 1997.

So I went to Steadman, who I knew by that point, and told him about the story. He said he remembered the whole thing. I just smiled – thinking he was simply being polite – and he paused. Then, he said something like, “We talked for a long time that night. I was glad I gave you the tickets.”

He really did remember.

And I’ll always remember him.

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