THE SCENE, TORONTO, CANADA, a craft brew festival across the street from the Eaton Centre, a massive three-story indoor mall that gets one million visitors a week.

The Eaton Centre hasn’t much to do with the story, but I wanted to insert a reference to it because of its massive amazingness. It is the fourth largest mall in Canada with 330 stores covering more than 1.5 million square feet spread over several central-city blocks. If you ever go and see it some day, I want you to be able to say, “Oh, yes, I read about this place somewhere.”

The rest is a story of my four-part brush with comedy celebrity Tom Green, former host of the “Tom Green Show” in Canada in the late 1990s, which aired in the United States in 1999 on MTV.

I thought he was the funniest guy on television. Brazen. I couldn’t believe the crazy stunts he would pull on people. I tended to stand up to watch his skits so I could turn away or run screaming from the living room. A cow comes to mind.

If you like Johnny Knoxville and the “Jackass” movies, you’d like Tom Green, who came first.

The “Jackass” guys ripped off most of Tom Green’s stunts. Seriously. Check YouTube.

Tom’s career took a detour a year after his American debut. He got testicular cancer. His show ended production. He survived, filmed the surgery for a documentary, had a brief marriage to Drew Barrymore, but I never knew what happened to him. I always wondered.

Then I saw him in the crowd this summer at the Toronto Brew Festival holding a glass of Tom Green beer.

The festival requirement was that each brewery had to pair up with a company sponsor. Uber was there pouring beer for Hogtown Brewers. Beau’s Brewery picked up Tom Green, who is from Ontario. He was standing next to their tent.

Bud Donaldson and I were in our second hour of samplings when we saw him. Impulsively and overcome with joy at seeing him alive and well, I pushed through the crowd, stepped up to him, and gave him a bear hug. I said in his ear, “You were the funniest guy on TV. I’m so glad to see you’re okay.”

We separated, but I still had my left arm around his waist. I couldn’t let go.

That’s when he said, “Do you want to be interviewed for my TV show?”

“You’re back on the air? That’s great! Hell, yes, I’ll be on your show,” I said.

He reached into his coat and pulled out this massive professional microphone while nodding to his protégé who peeled off his backpack and hauled out a giant camera, which he hoisted to his shoulder. On came the blinking red light.

“So, why did you come all the way from California to a Toronto Beer Festival?”

I was still holding him around the waist. “I thought I came for the beer. Then I found Tom Green was here.”

Damn, I was witty.

“I was hoping for the cow, Tom, but you will have to do.”

At one point, an event employee in a pink shirt handed him two drink coasters and a pen.

He signed autographs and she slipped back into the crowd. He went on to ask me about my profession and family, standard questions. I hung onto him the whole time. I patted him on the chest several times. “I’m so happy to see you.” I really missed the guy.

Afterward, I had to sign release forms, then we went back to our wives, who were sitting above the brewers’ booths on an elevated platform for people who paid extra. We got pink wristbands and little sandwiches, too.

Before we could speak, Sue and Sandy said, “Look what we got for you!” They held up two Tom Green drink coasters, freshly autographed. “We had our waitress get these for you,” they beamed.

Bud and I looked at each other and grinned. “Thanks, guys. We watched him sign them. I just got interviewed for his show on AXS Television.”

Bud nodded. “It’s true. They were practically making out.”

Later I left the table for more tasting. Tom Green was ascending the stairs that led down to the crowd of 2,000 people. I politely waited at the top for my turn. When he reached me, I leaned in and said, “Hey, I meant every word I said. You were the funniest guy ever.”

He said, “Thanks, I appreciate that,” then spun around toward the crowd, whipped out the huge microphone at the top of the steps and addressed the festival audience. “All right, all you drunken, crazy bleepity-bleepers, let me hear if you’re having a good time!” Then he put his fist in the air. The crowd roared.

Holy guacamole, I didn’t know he was a central part of the festival. I just thought he was hawking beer. I stepped slowly backward out of the spotlight. He kept everyone laughing while I took the wheelchair ramp.

Later in the afternoon, at our table, Susan said, “Steve, your buddy Tom Green is behind you.”

I said, “I’m not turning around. I’ve already had three contacts with him. He’ll think I’m stalking him.”

Then Tom walked up to our table and hung out for 10 minutes. We told him of our planned visit to Toronto’s Second City Comedy Club in two days. He confided some advice for improvisation that he learned from interviewing Steve Carell. “Don’t think about what you’re going to say next. Listen and react. If you think about it, it will be out of context.”

I don’t know if Tom will ever use my footage. I don’t have DirecTV or Dish Network. I won’t get to see it unless he sends me a clip. That’s OK. I got to show my appreciation.

Steve Gibbs teaches at Benicia High School and has written a column for The Herald since 1985.