Hank Aaron still draws a crowd

Hank Aaron hammered out more than an hour's worth of signed autographs at Roosevelt Field mall on Long Island on Saturday and admitted, with a chuckle, that it's wasn't -- "definitely not" -- the same fun as trying to hit a Sandy Koufax curve ball.

A couple hundred people, some dressed in the gear of the Yankees or Mets or Aaron's old Braves, brought baseballs, bats, caps, batting helmets, posters and shirts, many posing for photos shaking hands with the Hall of Famer, who declared himself thoroughly content that "my career's over."

He will turn 76 in February, his name and face still very much out there because of occasional autograph sessions and work with his Chasing the Dream Foundation, which provides 44 annual scholarship grants -- Aaron's old uniform number -- each to Boys and Girls Clubs of America and military bases around the world.

He attended Game 4 of this year's World Series in person, he said, not pulling for either team or any individual but naming Derek Jeter as an exemplary player of this generation.

But he was not tempted in the least to grab a bat and take a turn in the batter's box. "No," he said. "Never. "I looked at Joe DiMaggio (late in DiMaggio's life) when he threw out the first pitch," Aaron said. "It's kind of tough. You start wondering, even when you're still playing as you get older, 'Boy, did I ever throw that hard?' It's funny how youth will subside, and you'll feel a little older and things just don't materialize the way they did.

"Mother Nature takes her toll."

Aaron, dressed in beige shirt and sleeveless sweater and black slacks, is a bit thicker in the midsection than when he retired from baseball after the 1976 season as the career home-run leader with 755, a record since broken by Barry Bonds amid controversy over Bonds' reported use of performance-enhancing drugs.

Eric Levy, an employee of Steiner Sports, which arranged Aaron's appearance on Saturday, insisted to a reporter that no question be posed to Aaron about Bonds.

Some of the milling crowd didn't recognize Aaron, though cell-phone cameras were hard at work for those who learned his identity. Fans at such sessions, Aaron said, "sometimes want to talk about the home runs, I guess. Some want (him to include a '755' reference with his autograph), some don't." Typically, he just signs his name, "Hank Aaron."

Aaron's mother called him "Henry" and opposing players, out of respect for the danger he posed as the plate, referred to him during his career as "Bad Henry." But, signing all those autographs these days, "Hank" is shorter.