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Of escorts and nightlife -- San Diego -- New video screen at FedEx

Art

By Art
in The Stadium

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Art

Art

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I THINK I've been awake for several hours, but I'm not entirely sure.

Murphy swears we ARE in the press box and I'm alive and talking to people. I'm not entirely sure.

I'm looking to buy a house here. I may already have.

Talk soon :). And NO I didn't HIRE the escort. I'm a married man and I prefer to cuddle with Murphy.

Live stuff:

Bruce Allen just turned to me and said, "You (man I do not know in the slightest). What you're going to do is take a picture of me, Billy (Kilmer) and Sonny with this phone." I love these trips sometimes.

As usual I stay quiet when the team sucks, especially when it sucks quite as bad as it now sucks. When I have nothing good to say, I prefer to swallow it and not lend leadership to the, "My GOD THIS TEAM SUCKS," crowd. We all know what it is. Tomorrow it'll be something new at least.

From an information exchange perspective this was a very productive trip to this point. LOTS of great inside stories about lots of great topics. Sadly none can be shared here, but there's lots of flavor to lots of recent history.

On the field Gano just hits from 60 with room to spare. Twice.

The person in charge of such things just took the bait when I said I hear we're getting video screens like the tiny ones here. He sais, "Are you joking. We're getting a new one. 100-feet." NICE boys.

The roll:

Friday night -- The garage door doesn't open, locking my wife's car in and mine out. This is not totally relevant save for the contrast to come.

Saturday, 8 a.m. -- Outside to start the car to warm it up. It's -17 REAL temp. The truck does not like having to sleep outside. It makes many sounds I'm reasonably certain mean a repair bill to come. But, the girls have to go to swimming so the wife can't take her car so it's mine and a three hour early arrival at the airport.

Saturday, 8:45 a.m. -- Dropped off at the airport. Big girl assures me she'll take care of mommy while I'm gone. She knows to get her juice and candy when her sugar is low. And she adds, "And chocolate chips." Injury in Mills Manor means ice packs, band aids and chocolate chips. Wife is in good hands. "I LOVE YOU AND GOODBYE." The little one always at top volume.

Saturday, 1:20 p.m. (Pacific) -- On the ground. San Diego's airport is bright. Airy. Sunny. Murf is on the way. It's 75. I'm literally baking in the sun. From -17 to 75 and I feel like I'm going to die. And people here were wearing sweat jackets. It's a soft society.

Saturday, 1:50 p.m. -- At the hotel. Right on the bay, overlooking the naval station, some WWII ships and the Dole ship. Some several million dollar yachts. Lots of active water sports. And so damn sunny. I now know enough about team hotels to rate this one pretty highly. It's going to be an entertaining trip.

Saturday, 2:45 p.m. -- Text from the Larry. They are on the ground. Bennigan's research urged. Remarkably, average reviews. High prices. Water or booze in exchange for clothing items. One place "test charges" you if you start a tab. $200. We reject the Bennigan's idea. At least until tonight as Murf has mentioned it 32 times since I started typing this.

Saturday, 3:30 p.m. -- In the workout facility. Curtis Gatewood is working out there. It took me quite a while to figure out who 56 was. Larry comes in. Getting the blood moving. Czarniak comes in. Distracting, but lovely workout outfit.

Saturday, 5:30 p.m. -- Text Snyder henchman Karl Swanson about buying him a drink. He's already on station on the upper patio smoking. Sonny, Sam, Murf and Larry all find their way outside. The greatest humor in the world takes place at these times. Sam was engaged and with it. And when that happens there's going to be inappropriate hilarity. It starts with Sam discovering Murf is a military veteran. He wonders if he was in Vietnam. Murphy is 32. No is the answer. And we discover Sam WAS in Vietnam. I did not know this. It was some SERIOUS bad ****, Sam starts, when Sonny interrupts, "Sam, you were there on a USO tour or something with Johnny Unitas and Frank Gifford." I am almost in tears from laughter when Sam defends his Vietnam station with, "But we were surrounded by them, they were everywhere." Them may have been referenced in ways I shall not write with specificity. Sam tells us that they didn't like Gifford so they put him up front "Where the generals sit."

Saturday, 7 p.m. -- Talking a little football. We need to stop praying and start playing. I continue to openly speak of Tuesday's new coach announcement TRYING to get some confirmation. NO one there will say anything in return. Means something is up. In three years I'll know exactly what :). Sam demonstrates the team running plays noting the offensive line is giving it away every play based on their stance. It is for these sits that I will do this as long as the team says it's ok. Sonny's going out with Billy Kilmer. Sam's staying in as usual. Besides, Billy's still mad at him for the GREATEST hit of his career on Billy down in New Orleans. Karl is staying in too. But I'm telling him he HAS to go out. And my charms work. He's coming out.

Saturday, 8 p.m. -- With Bennigans out, we must decide where. On the coast. Sushi. Murphy finds the Fish Market as an option. Our bartender is named V. The jokes write themselves and, indeed, a V word was used to discuss her the remainder of our stay. She says Blue Pointe. We go to the concierge. He suggests Taka. Men in that position KNOW. So we get a cab for the five block walk. The cabbie was new to this great country and his cab as he didn't know where to go, so he asks the valet, who looks at him like a moron and says, "It's on fifth and G man. Come on." We drive and stop. Cabbie says we're there. We're not. Clearly he got tired of not knowing. We pay and huff it. I can tell you that San Diego night life is like NO city I've been to. The district is packed with crowds. Apparently San Diego has a local legal code which taxes fabric on skirts if they cover one's butt because few actually did. This was offset by San Diego's apparent tax break for high boots. It is hard to walk in a straight line with the scenery and Karl caustic about being dragged out to a sushi bar which doesn't appear to exist.

Saturday, 8:15 p.m. -- We find Taka. 30 minute wait. Blue Pointe is next door. 30 minute wait. On the way here 10 places had people on the streets coaxing customers in. We retreat. Lovely blonde hostess, high boots, remarkable bottom is where we eat. OH, it's Italian. Whatever. Sitting outside next to a table of cougars, one proudly displaying her recent enhancements. The old wise men take the table looking out to the street, leaving Murf and I staring at them and the enhancements. Not a total loss though.

Saturday, 10 p.m. -- Drinking wine, chilling out. Gary Fitzgerald roaming the streets. Forced to sit with us. Some of the finest conversation ever, as Gary sits there amazed I keep talking. I suggest to Karl that if Snyder cares about his image he has to do something to improve it. Explaining to fans that there's a pot of money for this and for that and from here and there and they don't mingle won't work. Explaining that cutting ticket prices means cutting revenue sharing dollars for visiting teams, who get their biggest payday of the season with us given our stadium revenue, meaning serious internal league complaints, won't work. I say, "Cut ticket prices $10 a ticket. Period." It doesn't matter if you can. Just have Snyder come out tomorrow and announce HE will pay $10 for every ticket out of his own pocket as a gesture. Ultimately only winning will fully cure the ills of a fan base fatigued by the status of the team.

Saturday, 10:30 p.m. -- Leave Italy and start walking back. A cigar and wine bar? IN CALIFORNIA. SERVING DRINKS. And allowing smoking. This is am amazing thing. Karl, Larry and I go in the humidor. Gary and Murf quietly depart. One poor female patron had apparently broken all her buttons as her blouse was low enough to reveal navel. Couples here. My wife is not coming to San Diego with me and coming here. Tragic. Enjoying a very expensive and nice cigar. About halfway down, we move back to the hotel. It's a short walk. Larry is fading. But we go to the hotel bar and order up some drinks. V is still here. Larry quickly bugs out. A lovely little creature is at the end of the bar ordering tea. Karl is trying to roust somebody at a club where you pay $450 for a bottle or something. I can't follow the concept. Lovely creature sits next to me. Starts talking. I've been working out apparently. "In my work, I get to meet lots of people." "Really? What is it you do?" "I'm a personal companion. Escort." Ahh.

Sunday, Midnight -- V is still here. Larry quickly bugs out. A lovely little creature is at the end of the bar ordering tea. Karl is trying to roust somebody at a club where you pay $450 for a bottle or something. I can't follow the concept. Lovely creature sits next to me. Starts talking. I've been working out apparently. "In my work, I get to meet lots of people." "Really? What is it you do?" "I'm a personal companion. Escort." Ahh. I haven't been working out THAT much. I'd been talking about my wife and kids until now, to assure the random chick hitting on me didn't think I was hitting back. Now I can drop pretense. "I can't **** you. My roommate, who's been to Vietnam, is sleeping." I find my inside jokes to complete, somewhat daft, strangers incredibly fun. "Would he mind?" "Yeah, probably." "For $200 more he could join in." "Nah. He's intimidated by the size of my ****." "I'm not." I'm sure :).

Sunday, still after midnight -- Having fully established I can't pay her super low fee to bang her, I tell her since she's working, she can find someone else. But she stays. Says her prospects aren't high there that night. So, she sticks to me, the apparent TOP prospect in a bar full of losers. Somehow this is not as fun as it ought be. Having to force conversation with a woman who could care less about what I'm saying and seems to think I'll mount up on top of Murphy if she just sits there chatting with me. But she's easy on the eyes, so I tell her all of the Skins stuff. Poor dear actually looks sad at the MILLIONS above her head that she can't get to. But, I'm pretty sure she'd have made a run at Snyder had he been there at that moment. I learn all about the personal companion business. No pimp. Why share. She has the town on lock down. Nothing can happen that bad to her. Up scale establishment. She'd know my room number. She has friends. Doesn't need to pay for protection. I suspect she has ways of paying. Her hourly rate is more than my wife's attorney rate :).

Sunday, 1:45 a.m. -- Blogger and TV boys hit the spot. Apparently personal companion sidekick decides she won't make a run at blogger as he introduces herself as a friend of mine who's in the real estate business. I taunt blogger for a bit about the fact I could be doing his job. It's a taunt that never gets old. They leave. I'm WAY too drunk. Escort says something to the other bartender, then tells me the bar is closing and it's ok if we go outside to the patio. She worked it out. I tell her I'm a guy into cuddling after so nah. She assures me she'll be back tonight to make another run at me. And leaves. I sleep.

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Art

Art

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What kind of new avatar are ya thinking?

One with big teeth or a big jaw. Can't decide. Big teeth is obvious, but this team never does the obvious, does it? Who knew Vinny was leaving and Allen was already hired? EVERYTHING points to Shanahan. To me, that means Cowher.

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TK

TK

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One with big teeth or a big jaw. Can't decide. Big teeth is obvious, but this team never does the obvious, does it? Who knew Vinny was leaving and Allen was already hired? EVERYTHING points to Shanahan. To me, that means Cowher.

How about I just make you an avatar of a toothbrush for now. :)

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Art

Art

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Now that no one is in the press box the internet is snappy.

The season is over. Thankfully.

It was a brutal run. So little good or hope existed. What happens next immediately provides "hope" again, which should charge us all up a bit. But the team needs to be remade not just with a new coach, but a new focus on football being that which is the most important thing.

Bruce Allen is a known football guy who brings credibility here. The next coach is almost certainly a name brand with a pedigree. Snyder, for what flaws people perceive, remains a guy who can get any guy he wants to work for him. If that's Shanahan or Cowher or someone else we'll know soon enough.

It has been difficult to enjoy the team of late.

At least we get a little relief from that soon.

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Art

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:doh:

You do not have to like it, but you can not deny it to be true. When Gibbs left suddenly two years ago there was nothing out there available that any of us really liked, save Russ Grimm. Getting Zorn wasn't a sign no one would work for Snyder so much as a sign no one was there.

Now the team is setting the pace on the next guy and will line up who it wants and it'll happen, as it always does when Snyder has a guy in his sights. Bruce Allen has had contact with a lot of people, should Shanahan not happen, but, that Snyder got Allen and Allen will get Shanahan puts to rest, forever, that no quality people would want to work for Snyder. On that, he gets a nod from us all, because clearly he's good at that.

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McD5

McD5

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You do not have to like it, but you can not deny it to be true. When Gibbs left suddenly two years ago there was nothing out there available that any of us really liked, save Russ Grimm. Getting Zorn wasn't a sign no one would work for Snyder so much as a sign no one was there.

Spags?

How many coaches turned us down Art?

And how many other coaches have mocked Synder, and us, publically?

Holmgren for starters.

And Cowher too.

You have given Dan way too much credit for years now. Both in football knowledge and management, and now in popularity.

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McD5

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Dan got Vinny to "resign" to get Allen in order to get Shanny. No need to :doh: Art's comment which is basically spot on.

But why even get Allen, if Dan could have had Shanahan all by himself?

Because the hiring of Allen was a requirement for him to work in DC?

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Spags?

How many coaches turned us down Art?

And how many other coaches have mocked Synder, and us, publically?

Holmgren for starters.

And Cowher too.

You have given Dan way too much credit for years now. Both in football knowledge and management, and now in popularity.

Spags was never offered the job and was not a guy we wanted. We did like Meeks, but for a certainty what happened with Spags was he knew leaving we didn't like him, so he protected his reputation by saying he wanted to stay with the Giants.

Marty mocked us in public.

He coached us.

We wouldn't go to the Holmgren tree after Zorn, or he'd be here instead of Allen.

We may actually get Cowher. I realize it's probably Shanahan like everyone else, but the Skins have ALWAYS been good about keeping people off balance in coaching hire situations. Hell, any hire really.

If everything points to Shanahan it tells me someone else. But, that was under the uber-secure regime of Cerrato and Snyder where nothing leaked. Allen is a football guy. He has contacts everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if the Shanahan stuff is as hot as it is because he's more open with information to his many football friends.

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But why even get Allen, if Dan could have had Shanahan all by himself?

Because the hiring of Allen was a requirement for him to work in DC?

Because getting a Shanahan may have required getting an Allen first. Or giving all power to Shanahan, which none of us would have wanted.

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