Tom Sherrill was on television Wednesday giving a live interview beamed out to Southern California, Las Vegas and Hawaii. He was happy to do it, but he didn’t ask for it.

Earlier in the evening, Sherrill got to place the official game ball on the mound before the Angels’ game against the Houston Astros. Didn’t ask for that, either.

The 29-year-old Air Force staff sergeant from Pomona didn’t see any of this coming when the 500th home run ball of Albert Pujols’ career landed in his hands April 22 in Washington, D.C. Sherrill didn’t want any autographs, photographs, game tickets, plane tickets, swag or fame. He was content to give the baseball back to Pujols and go home empty-handed.

“A lot of people have been asking ‘What did you get?’ as if something is owed to me,” he said. “I didn’t ask for anything.”

For better or worse — all better, it seems — he’s received plenty.

Don’t be fooled by any marketing gimmicks: The last month of Sherrill’s life has been the ultimate fan experience. It all began with a stroke of luck, but it wouldn’t have taken on the life it did without Sherrill’s innate humility.

The serendipitous story of how Sherrill caught the baseball has lasted a bit longer than 15 minutes.

Sherrill, a life-long Angels fan who recently moved to Colorado, was visiting the Washington D.C. area when he happened to notice the Angels were in town to play the Nationals. The night before, he bought tickets to the game. Pujols was sitting on 498 career home runs.

In the first inning, Pujols hit number 499; in the fifth, he clubbed number 500 to left-center.

The fate of a baseball hit into the stands is a fickle thing. It can carry fame, injury or nothing more than a nice memento, which is what most baseballs become at the point of retrieval. The 500th foul ball of Pujols’ career, for example, wasn’t officially recorded. Pujols probably wouldn’t want it anyway. Good luck selling that ball on eBay.

The 500th home-run ball is different. Only 25 players in major-league history have reached the milestone. That makes it a historical artifact, an object of envy for private collectors and museums. Only the holder of such a souvenir gets to dictate ownership.

Another fan, Chris Gordon, was in position to catch Pujols’ home run. It went off his hands and into Sherrill’s.

“As soon as I caught it, (Gordon) came up and hugged me and said congratulations,” Sherrill said.

They’re friends now. A few minutes before delivering the game ball, Sherrill took a picture from the field at Angel Stadium with his phone and sent it to Gordon.

“He’s just a good guy,” Sherrill said. “It’s hard not to be friends afterwards.”

Sherrill met with Pujols briefly after the game to hand over the baseball. He didn’t want an autograph, but Pujols signed a few for Sherrill’s friends anyway. The next day, the Nationals invited Sherrill back to the ballpark, where he met with a few more Angels players.

Since Sherrill was wearing a San Diego Chargers T-shirt to the game — that’s his NFL team — the Chargers offered him an on-field pass for when the team plays in Denver this year. OhYeah!, a nutritional supplement company that counts Pujols as a sponsor, sent Sherrill some protein shakes.

“I’ve been drinking that stuff like crazy,” he said.

The best prize of all was Wednesday. The Total oil company paid for Sherrill, his wife Brenda and their daughter Kaylean to fly to Anaheim from their home in Colorado for the game. All because of one baseball.

By the time Angels broadcasters Victor Rojas and Mark Gubicza interviewed Sherrill on the air during the game — they offered him tickets, too — Sherrill was ready for his 15 minutes to end.

“It was nice,” he said. “It was fun to live it, to be a celebrity for a couple days. Now I’m ready to go back to my normal life.”

Sherrill’s normal life involves serving a country of more than 300 million people, a job for which he receives no fame, fortune or swag. But somehow, for the few of us who have dreamed of being in the right place at the right time to catch number 500, retrieving a baseball made Sherrill a hero.

Odd, isn’t it?

“I never really thought about it like that,” he said. “It doesn’t really change anything. When we sign up to serve, we know we’re doing it not for the fame and fortune. When I caught the ball, you could see my excitement. I knew the TV cameras were there. I turned and looked right at ’em. It’s hard not to know.

“I’m OK with this. I don’t mind that I got fame for that rather than for the Air Force.”