"If you could be inside my head
You’d see that black and white is read
Flying high again"
--Flying High Again, Ozzy Osbourne
Who ever knew a Southwest Airlines flight could be so much fun? A period consisting of 11 days of travel in just 25 total days came to an end last week with the most unique hour I've ever spent on a plane. First, however, I need to back up and give a long-overdue rundown of this crazy travel schedule.
July 25-27: Las Vegas Prep Basketball Showcase; Las Vegas, Nevada.
This one's been mentioned before--you know, the whole staying at the Wynn, doubling my money and watching some amazing high school basketball.
Highs: My room, Spencer Hawes, Lorenzo Romar, Kristen and blackjack.
Lows: Kristen not being able to operate a digital camera properly, thus preventing me from a pictorial memory of the game experience.
August 6-11: Mohegan Sun Casino; Uncasville, Connecticut.
The first time I've been present for one of our road shows, and a thoroughly enjoyable experience. We flew into Newark on Saturday night (the 6th), then took a couple 15-passenger vans up to Connecticut (I haven't been in one of those since the former life required me driving them, full of loud young people, to places like Redding and Mexico--don't miss that too much) and got in around midnight. Staying at a dirtball hotel the first night (Mohegan Sun was full until the next night, so they made alternate arrangements for about ten of us), we drove around looking for alcohol (I was obviously the ringleader of this quest) and quickly discovered that this state gets dry at 8:30 p.m.--no alcoholic beverages sold after that magic hour. There was, however, some stuff available in the hotel lobby, so we made a few trips there and back and basically just hung out in a pair of rooms (about 8-10 of us) until the wee hours.
After about three hours of sleep, Joel and I got up and headed out to Southington (a one-hour drive) with Rob Dibble to shoot a "Going Home" piece. It's Dibs' hometown, so we visited his old high school (with his old coach), his little league field, his house growing up and the firehouse where his older brother has worked for 25 years. Upon the conclusion of the shoot, Joel and the crew drove back and I proceeded up to Hartford, where I sat in front of TV monitors for two hours and fed all the stuff we had just shot to Los Angeles. Good times. Jetted back in time to miss our production meeting and then grab some (free) dinner in the employee cafeteria before crashing very early in my new, nice room at the casino. The next two days looked very similar to one another, as we shot two shows each night in the lobby of Mohegan Sun, following meetings throughout the afternoons. I got to interact with a great group of guests, supervising our roaming camera crew and literally running the tapes we'd shoot (of guests doing various things) out to the truck for air. A partial list: Jim Calhoun, Manute Bol, Ben Gordon, Lisa Leslie, Earl "The Pearl" Monroe, John Starks, "Oil Can" Boyd, Mark Fidrych and WWE champ John Cena. If you read Sports Guy's SummerSlam recap yesterday, you know that Cena is a "mediocre rapper" and I actually got to shoot him freestyling for us, using "Best Damn Sports Show" in the lyrics. Funny stuff. Tuesday afternoon we got to shoot a piece in the arena on the casino grounds, which is actually a pretty sweet facility. John Salley playing a version of HORSE (B-D-S-S-P, how creative of us) against two of the Connecticut Sun players. That's a WNBA team, if you wanted to know. I'll speak of this later.
After we wrapped show number two on Tuesday (show number four overall), I spent the rest of the night with this girl Ashley (something about that name I'm drawn to, I guess), who worked there in the hotel, walking around and seeing the whole place, then kicking back for a while. Got to bed rather late and up early to take another van into New York City.
Arrived at 79th and 1st (Chris Rose's brother's apartment) around 11 a.m., dropped off our stuff (there were nine of us who continued the journey into NYC; the rest of the crew went home) and walked to the subway station to head over to Yankee Stadium. Day game, Yankees and White Sox, Aaron Small and Freddy Garcia (I would have preferred Randy Johnson vs. Mark Buehrle, but what can you do?). Our seats were ridiculous (thank you, Jaime), fifteen rows behind home plate, right under the netting where that kid had fallen the night before, and the Yanks lost a close game. Though I was actually rooting for the home team (complete with my new hat, thanks to hat day, and my new A-Rod shirt, thanks to the roadside vendors), just being there was more than enough for me. All that history, the proximity to the biggest stars in the game, the fans--everything.
Took the subway back to Rose's and then took a much-needed two-hour nap to charge up for the evening. Showered up and five of us (me, Joel, Bardia, Rose and his bro) headed to the meatpacking district (evidently the new place to be in the city) for dinner at a little hole in the wall called El Faro. Since it only seated about 25 people and there were about 23 in our party (mostly work associates of Bob Rose, an executive at Court TV), we had to wait about two hours to be seated. The food was well worth the wait, Spanish-style, something with which I was not too familiar, but something I will not hesitate to eat again. So following this wonderful meal, we set out on a native-led tour of the local nightlife.
Spot number one: Haro, a Japanese-themed bar in the downstairs of the Maritime Hotel. Not many people there at 11, which was when we arrived, but we had a table and hung out for a little bit. I can see how it would be cool when it's full of people (this was a Wednesday night, mind you).
Spot number two: The rooftop bar at the Gansevoort Hotel, which had an absolutely breathtaking view of the city. Looking off one side presented a gorgeous look at the Hudson River and at New Jersey there on the other side. The other sides provided various looks at different parts of a beautiful metropolis. Drinks were a touch expensive (Joel paid $14 for a miniature Jack & Coke), but water's still free, so no worries there. Left here around 1.
Spot number three: As shady a place as you'll ever see, a place called Red Rock West. While the other two spots were upscale and trendy, this one was the dive of dives. Pool table, jukebox, bartender girls that a) wore far less clothing than their respective figures should require, b) possessed a microphone that allowed them to screech something close to the lyrics of the song on that 80's-blasting jukebox, c) got up on the bar on occasion to dance to said music (think coyote very ugly) and d) took out a belt on one occasion to whip a willing patron on his hind quarters. I don't think I could have made this place up, and it only got worse. After we had been there for an hour or two (Bob had raved about the place all night, so we had to oblige), sticking to ourselves, shooting some pool and ignoring those scary, scary bartenders, one of the video screens (there were two, pretty much just playing music videos on mute all night) started showing something a little bit sketchy. Big, naked butts on screen, leading someone to comment that a girls gone wild video was on. Not quite. Full-blown porn quickly followed, much to the shock of our party (and I'm sure, to the delight of some). That was pretty much our cue to depart, and it was after 3 a.m. by this point anyways, so there wasn't much resistance. To his credit, Bob was still raring to go. Knowing full well that his brother Chris had a car picking him up at 6:45 a.m., Bob's request at this point went something like this: "Okay, just one more place, and then we'll go have breakfast. Bacon and eggs sound good to anyone?" Wow. Not happening.
Bedtime finally came (Bob's family was gone, so I slept in his little daughter's bed, about a foot and a half shorter than me, but it was free, so no complaints. Got home to the still-new apartment (plenty of boxes still not unpacked from the move) and crashed.
Highs: Yankee Stadium, Ben Gordon, Earl the Pearl, Ashley, NY nightlife.
Lows: Dirtball hotel, a WNBA shoot I actually enjoyed (causing me to actually watch part of a game after I got back because I now know a couple of the players--it's painful)...so the low wasn't the shoot itself or the people involved, but the fact that something positive about the WNBA has now permeated my brain.
August 18-19: Best Damn Fight Night; San Jose, California.
Since this was going to be the best card we've had (three relatively big-name Olympians) and the best venue we've occupied (HP Pavilion at San Jose, where the Sharks play), I decided that I wanted to fly up and, go to the fight, whether I'd be working or not. Fortunately, they decided to send me up, not even knowing what I'd be doing, so I jumped at the chance. I had to finish up a promo for the show to bring with me on the plane (8:10 flight), so I was still on the lot at 6:50 and griping just a bit. Fortunately, traffic was very kind, and I utilized airport parking (the reallty expensive one right across the street--work-related expense) and made it in plenty of time. After a nice quick flight, Eric picked me up at the airport (he started practice last week, so he's already up there) and we went to get something to eat in downtown San Jose. After a glorious burrito, he had to be back in the dorms (coach-imposed curfew), so I met up with a couple buddies at the hotel and then headed out to see San Jose. A nice laid-back evening at a couple of local establishments (Joel went to college at SJSU, so he knew his way around) was followed by a good night's sleep, thank the Lord.
Up at 9 for a production meeting, then to another hotel for meetings with the various boxers, which was a very cool experience. Basically, we sat in a conference room (the producer Bob, Chris Rose, commentators Barry Tompkins & Rich Marotta, "sideline" reporter Sean O'Grady, Joel and myself) and chatted with each boxer for about 15 minutes, getting their stories, their strengths and their plans for the fight. So anytime you hear an announcer saying, "He told us he's going to...," that's where it comes from. Cool to have that info while watching the fights play out. Headed over to the arena shortly thereafter for a few more meetings (and lots of food) before real preparations began around 4 p.m. The fights themselves were incredible--I've never been to a fight of any kind (except for the ones where a hockey game breaks out), so that in itself made it unique, but the three guys we were promoting were great, two of whom should be stars someday very soon. Andre Dirrell and Andre Ward both looked awesome and will be forces in the middleweight divisions before too long, and Audley Harrison, a heavyweight, should get a shot at one of those belts within the next year. I'm stoked to see these guys progress. We got out right at 7 (when our show ended) and headed straight to the airport to get on the 8:30 flight (we were originally on the 9:50 version) and get home as early as possible. It worked, so we were on with about 20 other folks associated with the show, making for an incredibly entertaining flight.
I don't think I can accurately encapsulate the flight, but I'll give little bullet points, first of all listing who joined us on the plane: John Salley, James "Lights Out" Toney and a couple of his people, Chris Rose, George (the big boss), John (the boss), Roy Hamilton (a former UCLA basketball star who now produces these fights), and then me, Joel, Matt and Mike in close proximity.
- We got to pre-board with Sal, which is very ridiculous, but the ticket guy couldn't say no to our claims of being Sal's posse...
- Toney is one of the funnier human beings I've ever met, and was the most entertaining passenger by far: eating Whoppers he'd stowed on board (he's got a fight in a month, by the way), stealing Matt's I-Pod and refusing to give it back to Joel, telling me to comb my hair down because my forehead was blinding him with the reflection of the light, smearing make-up all over the wall of the plane (and yelling at us when we laughed at him about it), signing autographs for kids and sparring with one kid (even lifting the kid's fanny pack over his head at one point and declaring him the heavyweight champion of the world)...
- A very attractive girl sat directly behind me, and we quickly learned that she's a Clipper girl. Unfortunately, our obnoxiousness to that point had pretty much already ruined any shot that any of us had with her. Oh well, I'll just have to say hello when we sit courtside on Thanksgiving...
- Hooked up VIP passes to the AVP in Manhattan before the end of the flight, because the big boss was very gracious with our spur-of-the-moment request...
Landed, drove myself and Joel home, and then attempted to get sleep for a normal day of work on Friday...
So yeah, I'm finally into a normal week of work, at home, and enjoying my new place very much, though I'm sure I'd be enjoying it more if I was actually there. Hopefully this will mean a bit more time to blog, because it's something I miss--writing is an enjoyable activity, so the more the merrier. We'll see, though, habits are tough to break...
