Shysterball, in the course of naming his favorite player on each MLB team, tells a funny story about his grandma supposedly living down the street from Alan Trammell:
As a really young player, he made his in-season home on Inkster Road in Redford, Michigan, two doors down from my grandmother's house. At least that's what my uncle, who still lived at home, occasionally worked as a roofer, and drank Stroh's all day told me. Once when we were visiting, my brother and I walked to the house in which he was rumored to live and knocked on the door. A woman in her 20s answered it. We asked if Alan Trammell was there, but she said no. At the time we assumed that he had already left for batting practice or something. In hindsight I realize that it might not have actually been his house, and that the woman, while taciturn to the point of being misleading, was technically telling the truth.I had a similar experience when I was a kid at camp, and this one girl who was a counselor had the last name "Welch." I asked her the first day if she was related to Bob Welch, then a pitcher for the A's, and she for some reason lied and said she was. The whole session I asked her how her cousin Bob was doing, and how she'd sure pitched great the night before. The last day she finally told me Bob Welch wasn't really her cousin. I sure was dumb when I was 10.
My wife, though, when growing up, really did live near then-Phillies shortstop Kevin Stocker.
LOL! great story!
similarly, I went to school with a guy who claimed to be Howard Stern's cousin all through middle and high school. I beleived him for a while.