I lived in Los Angeles from 1980-1993. I made a lot of great friends there, started a long career, played music in damn near every club, heck, my kids were born there and my Dad lived out his years there. Guess that makes me part Angelino.

Back in those days, Tower Records and all of the big record labels had season seats, so I could pretty much go to any game I wanted. For several years in the late ‘80s, during the Dodgers’ glory years of Fernando, Pedro, Orel, Sax, Gibson, Scoscia… Opening Day meant a limo to the park, box seats behind the Dodger dugout and free food. According to my ticket stub collection, I went to over 30 Dodger games in 1986 alone (I lived 10 minutes from the park, so I’d go all the time, even if it was just for an hour before heading to a concert).

But my favorite Dodger Stadium memory happened in the 1st inning of Game 6 of the 1985 NLCS. This turned out to be a game of infamy for the Dodgers, the “Jack Clark game”. The Dodgers were leading 5-4 with two outs in bottom of the 9th, one out away from forcing a game 7, when Mr. Clark hit a heartbreaking 3-run homer. Three outs later, the Cardinals celebrated on the Dodgers field.

But back to the first inning…

Spoiler alert – Kenny G performed the National Anthem (we all took a knee for that one. LOL).

So, I’m getting settled in to my seat right behind home plate – IN THE UPPER DECK – when a guy approaches me and asks for my autograph.

I’ll say that again. A guy approaches me and asks for my autograph.

MY autograph.

I say, “Um… I’m not all that famous, Chuckle. Chuckle”.

And the guy replies, “I respect your privacy, just need a quick autograph and I’ll let you enjoy the game”.

And I say, “No seriously, I don’t think I’m who you think I am”.

But this dude is now all in. He can’t back down and folks are starting to take notice (“DOWN IN FRONT”).

He says, “I really don’t want to make a big fuss. Just give me that autograph please”.
Finally, I have to know. “Um… Who do think I am?”.

And he says…“You’re Kenny G”.
Me: “Um… No, I’m not”.
Him, getting frustrated… “Yes, you are”.
Me: “Seriously, bro. Do you think that, a) You play the anthem and then get seated IN THE UPPER DECK?! and, b) How do you suppose that I got up here this quick?!”

Then I actually pull out my wallet; show him my freakin’ ID and say, “Look. I’m not Kenny G”.

I swear to God, he looks at the ID and says…

“I get it. Stage name”.

Completely humiliated, he finally says, “Well can you just sign your name?”.

And I “autographed” his ticket stub.

True story – this I swear.