 So the entire time that I worked in San Francisco, I'd see Willie at the ballpark, but I never talked to him. I wouldn't walk by him. I'd walk near him. I wouldn't make eye contact with him. I didn't want to bother him because everybody else did. And then one day, I'm walking up the tunnel in between the two clubhouses, and Willie's sitting there on a trunk. They have these big trunks on wheels that they use for the equipment, and Willie's sitting there. And he had a guy with him. His name was Tiny. He was Willie's...