| Poetic justice. The Sign Man gets to ride in the Mets victory parade.
October 21: The Little Old Signmaker Takes a Bow Nobody, not even the Mets, came from as far back as Karl Ehrhardt. Karl Ehrhardt, the people's representative, rode in New York's ticker-tape parade for the Mets yesterday. Karl Ehrhardt is the Little Old Signmaker of Shea Stadium. It all started for him in 1964, the Mets' first season in Shea Stadium. Ehrhardt and his friend, Charles Taylor, came out to Shea one night with a sign that read, "Welcome to Grant's Tomb." The sign poked fun at M. Donald Grant, the busy man in charge of telling owner Mrs. Charlie Payson what was happening. Ehrhardt is a 45-year-old commercial artist from the Glen Oaks section of Queens. An ex-Dodger fan, he was bursting to make his statements about the Mets. The Mets just didn't appreciate his wit. That was no surprise. A sense of humor has not always been the Mets brass' strong point.
Would you believe they tried to suppress the banners that first started popping up at the Polo Grounds? It was only when the customers refused to be suppressed--there were some in the left field section of the press box ready to petitition the American Civil Liberties Union to take up the banner cause as a freedom of speech issue--that Mets management began to see that the banners were a joy. Banners are so widespread now, don't be surprised if one turns up in the Kremlin with the exhortation, "Let's Go Czechs." When Ehrhardt's "Welcome to Grant's Tomb" banner was spotted, a Met employee named Mat Burns went out and tore down the banner. Ehrhardt left, but he would return. This is the way it always is with the great ones. Ehrhardt came back with another sign that read, "We Scribble While Mat Burns." With all due respect to all the wonderful signs Ehrhardt has devised, I don't think he ever has topped the genius of "We Scribble While Mat Burns." That was the beginning for him. Given an eager push by the crème de la crème of the press box ("You guys made me what I am today--a nut'" he says) he went on to bigger things. He devised the famous "Stiff" and "Super Stiff" signs for Eddie Kranepool. ("I am going to donate the original 'Super Stiff' sign to the Left Field Grab Bag," he says.) Eventually, the house TV cameras began to look for him. He made the newsreels and the magazines, and even earned $150 from Macy's when they used his picture in an ad celebrating the Mets' pennant victory. And in the parade through the crowded streets of New York there was Ehrhardt--hot-diggety-doo--in the middle of it, riding in one of the open cars and holding up the signs that had entertained multitudes. It would be nice to say that the Mets--Eddie Kranepool in particular--had asked him to take part, but that's not the Mets' style. It was somebody from Mayor Lindsay's office who had the inspiration of involving Ehrhardt. As his car pulled away from Whitehall Street on Broadway, Ehrhardt reached into his tabulated file and pulled out the sign, "And Away We go." On up to City Hall and then up to 42nd Street he gave the citizens of the metropolis his best: "Hoooooray". . . "Beoootiful". . ."Wunnerful, Wunnerful". . ."Outta Sight". .. "First". The crowd spotted the man in the black cardboard derby hat with the orange band and they immediately knew who he was. "The sign man," they shouted. "Atta way to go, sign man." Ehrhardt said, "This is fun. I've never worked out of a car before." Within a few blocks he was worried. "I'm going to blow my repetoire in one block," he said. But every block was a new audience and Ehrhardt gave them what he gave them at Shea. Actually--and he is the first to admit this--he found it easier to work when he could make signs knocking the Mets. But even he couldn't knock them this year. "You Guys Are Too Much," says a 1969 sign. Ehrhardt sat with the Mets at City Hall, at Bryant Park, and he went to the mayor's reception at Gracie Mansion where Kranepool glared at him. He was given a New York City Seal, tie pin and cuff links, and a New York City tie, just like the players. (He gave the tie to one of the bat boys). In the middle of it he said, "Anything after this will be anti-climactic. I'll hang it up after this year." A master realizes when he no longer can top himself. Ehrhardt is nothing if he isn't a master. If he hangs it up as he says, the best to him, but you know how it is with the great ones. They public keeps insisting they come back.
An explanation is in order about Ehrhardt's comment that he would donate the original "Super Stiff" sign to the Left Field Grab Bag. That was a madcap enterprise of mine in which I distributed to readers at the end of the year much of the chazerai--a noble word meaning trinkets, oddments such as programs, athlete's wear, free tickets and the like--that was collected by me and other members of the sports department. I did this via a questionnaire soliciting opinions and essays from readers. It was a rascal's way of gaining reader loyalty you can be sure. Let it be noted as well that Ehrhardt was back at his sign station along the third base line the following season and a few years after that. The great ones can't give it up.
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The Mets players finally caught up with the fans. |
The Crazy Bunch of Kids Own 1969 
