In order to paint the truest picture possible of Rev. Bill Greason, then I have to begin by telling on myself.

I’m not too proud. I’m a reporter, and this story is too good — or bad, or embarrassing, depending on the perspective — to be forgotten.

Greason is the 99-year-old former pitcher for the Birmingham Black Barons. He’s more than that, though. He’s Birmingham royalty. He’s the senior pastor of Bethel Baptist Church Berney Points. He’s a WWII veteran who was one of the first Black Marines since the Revolutionary War. He fought in the battle of Iwo Jima and, after surviving that hell on earth, witnessed the American flag being raised over the Pacific island.

Greason has been an American hero throughout his life more times than I’ve eaten at Hero Doughnuts … and I love Hero Doughnuts.

Greason was recognized on the House Floor in Washington last Friday and will be an honored guest of Major League Baseball on Thursday when the St. Louis Cardinals and San Francisco Giants play at Rickwood Field. The game is being played at Rickwood as a tribute to the history of the Negro Leagues. It’s the first MLB game of record to be played in the state of Alabama, but it’s more than that.

“MLB at Rickwood: A tribute to the Negro Leagues” is the signature event of the season for Major League Baseball. It’s being nationally televised on Fox. There are events planned throughout the week leading up to the game. In preparation for the big event, I joined colleague Creg Stephenson at Bethel Baptist Church Berney Points for an interview with Greason last week.

It was one of the biggest thrills of my career.

And I almost blew it.

There was a mix up, and we initially went to the wrong Bethel Baptist Church. Not once. But twice.

True story.

The interview was scheduled at 2:30 p.m. At exactly 2:29 p.m., while standing in the heat outside Bethel Baptist Church in Collegeville, four white guys realized they were at the wrong place at the right time.

The conversation went something like this.

“Y’all know there’s another Bethel Baptist, right?”

“Oh, no.”

We called Greason and told him what happened. He was already waiting at the correct church … his church, the one where he has been a pastor for 52 years, the one in West End located at Berney Points and not the famous Bethel Baptist in Collegeville where Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth was a pastor.

“Oh, no!”

Listen, y’all, I love Birmingham, and I mean I love it to the absolute bones. I have literally written a book that included whole chapters about the legacy of civil rights in the city. I am from Birmingham and I am proud of Birmingham’s role as a world leader in civil rights. I have been writing about the history of the Negro Leagues for years. I’ve spent whole weeks at the downtown Birmingham library pouring through old microfilm of Birmingham’s Black newspapers. All that being said, my confusion — my mistake — explains in perfect, painful, cringe-worthy, innocent detail of just how separated by race the city of Birmingham still is to this very day.

They say there are two Birminghams. It’s true. I can’t explain it any other way other than, you know, that I’m a complete idiot.

Of all the white things that I have ever done in my life, confusing Bethel Baptist churches in Birmingham and blowing an interview with Rev. Bill Greason ranks even higher than that time I dressed up as Vanilla Ice for a sixth-grade lip-sync competition … and won.

Here’s the thing, though. Greason waited for us.

When we called 99-year-old Greason on the phone, and told him what happened, and said we’d get there as fast as we could, 99-year-old Rev. Bill Greason, who fought in Iwo Jima, who was awarded a Congressional Gold Medal, who played baseball with Willie Mays and Roberto Clemente on the same team in the Puerto Rican winter league, who just last month fell over in his church and bruised his face and had to be taken to the emergency room, that Rev. Bill Greason waited for us.

We even stopped by the Bethel Baptist church in Homewood on the way, and still he waited.

At 99 years old, Rev. Greason still gives sermons at Bethel Baptist Church Berney Points. We finally arrived at the correct church around 3:15 p.m., but then didn’t begin the interview until around 3:45.

Still, he waited.

We talked for 45 minutes. He remembered things from his childhood in Atlanta. He talked about the war. He recalled in painful detail what it was like to be called up to the St. Louis Cardinals, but then to not have a single player on that Cardinals team volunteer to ever play catch with him. Greason was an amazing pitcher. The Cardinals blew it just about as badly as I thought I had blown my interview of a lifetime.

Rev. Greason has been interviewed hundreds of times throughout his life. National publications and television networks have been lining up to speak with him leading up to the game at Rickwood. He waited for me when he should have left me in the dust. That’s Rev. Bill Greason. That’s an American icon.

I wasn’t even worthy to be in the same room as Greason when I arrived for that interview. He made me feel like I had been his friend for 100 years. What do you ask someone of such singular greatness? First, I asked Greason what he’s learned about life. His words should be in the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

“How to treat people,” he said. “Treat people right if you want people to treat you right. And if you can’t get along, get away. Don’t force yourself. Don’t take advantage of anybody.”

I then handed him a baseball, and asked him to show me the first pitch he’d throw Buck Leonard.

His right hand went to the two-seamer, and then he smiled. He didn’t have to say anything at all.

BE HEARD

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Joseph Goodman is the lead sports columnist for the Alabama Media Group, and author of “We Want Bama: A Season of Hope and the Making of Nick Saban’s Ultimate Team.”