Joe,
As you know, Howeird is a jock sniffer from way back. He still caddies and runs errands for Mike Schmidt and does the same for Charles Barkley. Well, when Schmidt was elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame, about 10 buses were chartered to take fans up from Philadelphia. Schmidt decided to invite Eskin as his pissboy and run errands and such. Well, my father-in-law, Rich Ashburn was elected on the Veteran's Committee vote later that year (and 40 more buses chartered) so we all went up for the ceremony and the weekend of our lives.
My father-in-law broadcasted for the Phillies and wrote newspaper columns (really good ones, too--we're going to compile them in a book) and saw every game Mike Schmidt ever played. They were pretty good friends (Schmidt didn't seem the outgoing type, unlike my f-i-l), and had a lot of mutual respect for one another. Well, we're sitting at the member/family dinner the night before the induction and everyone is in a wonderful mood. One of my great thrills was sitting with Buck O-Neil that night. Anyway, Schmidt comes over and gets a whole lot of autographs from my f-i-l for his family--he forgot to get mine. There are no autographs allowed at the hotel during the weekend, but obviously this was different. Anyway, we have two boys so my wife, who knows Schmidt and his wife, went over to his table afterwards to get some things signed. Well, like a cat...one with a huge arse and short legs, Howard jumps in to block my wife from Schmidt's table. He lays hands on her and says in a very harsh tone that there are no autographs allowed in the hotel and she shouldn't bother Mr. Schmidt during the dinner. Well my wife doesn't know who in the world this jackass is and replies that she has no idea who he is but he had better take his hands off her and that the dinner is for members and their families only and he better get the heck out of her way before she called security.
We hear the disturbance as Schmidt's table is right next to ours. My f-i-l turns around and sees Howeird and says he's been meaning to talk to him. Howeird comes over happy as can be. My f-i-l said to him that his shorts needed ironing and that after he was done ironing Mike Schmidt's knickers, would he mind coming over to his room and do the same. Well, Howeird's face went from smile to dispair. My f-i-l, who very rarely got angry, stood up and said to Howeird that if he ever talked his daughter that way again, he would regret being so rude. Howeird left the room with his fat tail between his short stubby legs. I was glad to see him put in his place, out of the company of us all.