Only about 10’ away from me at a Starbucks in Miami. As I’m walking out of said coffee shop from an important business meeting, I catch him out of the corner of my eye. Sitting at a table with another man, having a conversation. I do a double-take. “Is that really him” I think to myself. Oh yeah. It’s unmistakable for someone who grew up about an hour from NYC as a 3rd Generation Yankees fan. Someone who lived thru the terrible 80’s Yankees and almost-good-but-not-quite-good-enough early 90’s teams. That’s the guy who sparked the first title in ’96 as a rookie and then won 4 more.

Meanwhile my customer I am meeting with is wrapping up our conversation with the normal fare of “where did you park?” and “what are the plans for the weekend?”. I think, at least. Pretty sure there was a minute where I froze and didn’t hear a word she said. I leaned over and said “well I parked way over there but I just realized who is sitting over there and I HAVE to go talk to him”. She smiled, said “oh, well good luck with that” laughing and we parted ways.

You see, I started the day about 45 minutes north of downtown Miami. In Boca for meetings the previous 2 days. I had a long day and somewhat long night before waking up and decided leaving 2 hours early for my meeting would be plenty of time to make it. So I eat my crappy M Lounge breakfast, grab a coffee and hop into my moderately OK rental car to start my journey. Estimated arrival time: 9:24 for a 9:30 meeting. Nearly 2 hours to get somewhere 43 minutes away. That’s cutting it too close for someone who is never, ever, late.

While merging onto I-95 (which has been under construction since 1942), I call my wife and check in on how the last couple of days have gone at home. School, sports, our entire house exterior is getting painted…you know, the usual. I learn that my son woke up and refused to go to baseball practice later that afternoon. “It’s too hard”, “I’m scared” he told her.

As if us Dads don’t already feel the guilt of being away from home, you throw that situation into the mix and it’s enough to send me into a full blown anxiety attack. My son’s at home and nervous about getting to go play a sport that all 8 year olds should LOVE: baseball. I am not there to talk to him, soothe him, or offer to be out on the field with him later that day. Why? Because my flight home does not land until 4:30 and Atlanta traffic will suck the life and soul out of me in a 1.5 hour drive home. My wife and daughter have a commitment that afternoon as well so baseball practice is looking less likely.

So I’m driving to this meeting that I am going to be late for. The traffic is getting worse and I start exchanging emails and texts with our customer asking to push our meeting to 10am and a different location. Great! Things are going to work out. I speak into my phone the new location in Google Maps. It takes me to the wrong Starbucks b/c I moderately neglected to confirm the address. I arrive, run to the bathroom while realizing I’m at the wrong place and jump back into the car to drive yet another 20 minutes to the right place. I arrive at 10:01 and apologize profusely. She’s cool, understands the traffic woes of S. Florida, and we have a nice hour-long conversation.

All the while I am thinking of ways to help her, help my wife get our kid to practice later that day, and if I drive fast enough to the airport – could I make the earlier flight home? As we like to say at Moderate Neglect: I got 99 problems but these 3 are top of mind. And that’s when I see DJ.

I open up my laptop at an outdoor table and start looking up earlier flights while pondering the debate of walking up to him, talking to him, what to say. Or, do I just leave the man alone? The latter, I decide, I would regret forever. This is someone I’ve admired since I was 15 years old and he was a Rookie in The Yankees organization as a tall, skinny kid from Kalamazoo, MI. Not someone who really gets nervous, I am shaking. I decide I will wait for a pause in his conversation and walk over.

I introduce myself, thank him for all he did bringing World Series titles back to NY, and start to go into a bit of a ramble about my son wanting to quit baseball. Would he make a quick video or at least take a picture so I can show my son? I forget to mention we had both just finished reading a kids book on his life (this would have likely helped my cause for a video but my moderate neglect of this important fact probably did me in). He thanked me for the compliment and cordially informed me he was in the middle of something but he’d take a pic. I made sure no one else around saw this to avoid a mob and grabbed a quick photo. I apologized for interrupting him, told him how much it means to me/my son, thanked him for his time, and went on with my morning.

I can’t imagine what it must be like to be that famous to where you can’t sit at a coffee shop without being interrupted all the time. I appreciated the fact he agreed to a photo and understand his reasoning for declining the video. It was likely a little too much of a request from the total stranger who barged in on his meeting. The man he was talking to was young - probably early 20’s - and seemed like DJ was giving him a lot of advice. Lucky guy I thought. Does he know the level of greatness he’s sitting with?

After texting nearly everyone I know the photo, I made my flight to ATL, ubered home and pulled in at 6:15. I told the story to my son with a slightly edited ending. This alternate ending had Derek telling me to tell him that he used to be scared sometimes too. And the best thing to do is keep working hard and believing in yourself. Our next practice is next Thursday. My son has agreed to give it another chance and go. No matter what’s going on that day at work, you better believe I’ll be there with him. One week you’re neglecting family for work and the next week you’re neglecting work for family. In the end, I feel like this encounter was meant to be. The rough morning full of traffic, change of plans, and Dad guilt all resulted in a perspective change that helped me explain to my son the importance of perseverance and overcoming fears. I’m not saying he’ll end up a great baseball player because of this, but that would make a hell of a story if so. Only one way to find out – get out there and give it a go.